Tag: love

Hiya sweeties! I’ve been very busy, schoolwork, schoolwork and more schoolwork. (Read: SOMEBODY HELP! SOS)

Anyways, it took me forever to write this post, partly because I was so invested in reading this book called “Deep Work” by Cal Newport. I highly recommend it even though, I’m not done with it yet.

Today, I’d like to talk about something very dear to me: words. Since I can remember, I’ve always had this fascination with words. Words, words, words. They were my chemicals in a science lab. I could play around with them, not take myself seriously, take myself seriously, experiment with what works for me and what doesn’t and just generally hone the craft of writing.

Around last year, I finally got the courage to call myself an artist. A writer, a poet. It was a terrifying process, labelling myself. When you’re a writer, you see, you wish with every atom of your being to be called a writer and yet, you don’t actually call yourself one. Why? Because you’re not sure if your writing is even counted as valid or worthy enough for you to be called a writer. Fortunately, I got through that alive.

But today, suddenly a thought struck me: I call myself a writer but am I really living up to it?
I had become a hack who never wrote but fell in love with word : “WRITER.” I realized that writing only when I want to scribble all over the notebook is not ever going to make my writing take off where I really want it to go.

I really believed I was doing something. But I’m not. Writing, right now, is something that I play with over the weekend. I don’t want that.

Writing is one of the things that calls to me. I wanna write and write and write until I’m drowning in my words, submerged in them to the complete point of no return.

After the realisation that I wasn’t really accomplishing anything, I had this ache to write. It didn’t even had to be a good piece. I just had to write. So I did. I painted out 500 words of a scene that I had in my head. And, I thought, this is what I want to do. I want this. Everyday, I want this. Just one hour of uninterrupted writing while Jazz plays in the background.

After this connection with my emotions, I felt like this is something that needs to be shared. I found a profound connection when other people my age were still struggling to explore the world.

As a young writer, I take it as my duty to be as honest and as prolific as possible. I hope that I can finally live up to the name I’ve given myself, a writer.