I’m a Writer, Really
At this point, I’m left without a choice but to accept that I am a writer. Because sometimes, I wonder.. if I’m not a writer, then what else am I? If I’m not gonna write, what else am I to do? If I can’t be good at writing, where else could I be good at? It actually takes a lot of courage to admit these things to myself (which I have to do every single day by the way).
I am what most people would call a jack of all trades, master of none. Let me explain further.
Back then, it was Web Design that I was seriously pursuing, and I’d spend hours and hours self-studying my way around it, making myself familiar with Adobe Photoshop, Frontpage (jurassic era) and MX Dreamweaver. My pursuit, however, only allowed me to go as far as creating cute blog layouts for my own pleasure and enjoyment, and for friends and online contacts who, perhaps, were just supportive rather than impressed with my work, hehe. I design, by not really.
I’d want to be a guitarist too, but my rockstardom didn’t reach farther than the four corners of my room. I play mostly piano, which I do in church, and once in a while, with friends. Playing these two instruments is an art I haven’t mastered yet. Often, I find myself wishing that I’m better at them. Oh, and I sing too, and I could pick up a mic and sing along with a videoke just right, or blend in anytime with our church’s praise and worship team, but my vocal aesthetics is not enough to take me places. I’m a musician, but not really.
Now, I dream of pursuing serious photography. I have seriously thought of investing on a DSLR, with the hopes that maybe, just maybe, I could excel in this particular field and be confident about it. But, as expected of me, I still haven’t made the essential steps to pursue this because more than the financial investment I have to consider, I still fear that just like web design and music, I would probably just end up wallowing in mediocrity and wasting my money. Such pessimism I have, yeah, thanks. Hehe. I’m a photographer wannabe, but not really.
And then there’s writing.
Sometimes I wonder why after all these years of writing, I still have to convince myself that I am a writer. Writing is not like something I tried to pursue, I just found myself doing it. And unlike web design which I had to work out on, I didn’t spend hours consciously harnessing my writing skills. And unlike playing the guitar and piano on which my parents made me take lessons for, I didn’t take any particular subject or training that contributed to my writing now.
Writing for me sort of just happened. And I didn’t really think I excel at it, it’s just something I had to do. Because if I don’t write, I can’t seem to imagine myself doing anything else. Because I love doing it (even though at times it doesn’t love me back). And because sometimes, I hate doing it too (even during those times I have no choice but to do it).
The existence of this love-hate relationship with writing makes me convinced that I am a writer. I must be one. I mean, aren’t all writers love writing and hate it too at one point or another?
Now, that I'm in college, I'm taking up creative writing. Now, I have more reasons to accept reality and believe that I’d most likely spend my entire life doing this. But let me tell you more about that another time.
I am what most people would call a jack of all trades, master of none. Let me explain further.
Back then, it was Web Design that I was seriously pursuing, and I’d spend hours and hours self-studying my way around it, making myself familiar with Adobe Photoshop, Frontpage (jurassic era) and MX Dreamweaver. My pursuit, however, only allowed me to go as far as creating cute blog layouts for my own pleasure and enjoyment, and for friends and online contacts who, perhaps, were just supportive rather than impressed with my work, hehe. I design, by not really.
I’d want to be a guitarist too, but my rockstardom didn’t reach farther than the four corners of my room. I play mostly piano, which I do in church, and once in a while, with friends. Playing these two instruments is an art I haven’t mastered yet. Often, I find myself wishing that I’m better at them. Oh, and I sing too, and I could pick up a mic and sing along with a videoke just right, or blend in anytime with our church’s praise and worship team, but my vocal aesthetics is not enough to take me places. I’m a musician, but not really.
Now, I dream of pursuing serious photography. I have seriously thought of investing on a DSLR, with the hopes that maybe, just maybe, I could excel in this particular field and be confident about it. But, as expected of me, I still haven’t made the essential steps to pursue this because more than the financial investment I have to consider, I still fear that just like web design and music, I would probably just end up wallowing in mediocrity and wasting my money. Such pessimism I have, yeah, thanks. Hehe. I’m a photographer wannabe, but not really.
And then there’s writing.
Sometimes I wonder why after all these years of writing, I still have to convince myself that I am a writer. Writing is not like something I tried to pursue, I just found myself doing it. And unlike web design which I had to work out on, I didn’t spend hours consciously harnessing my writing skills. And unlike playing the guitar and piano on which my parents made me take lessons for, I didn’t take any particular subject or training that contributed to my writing now.
Writing for me sort of just happened. And I didn’t really think I excel at it, it’s just something I had to do. Because if I don’t write, I can’t seem to imagine myself doing anything else. Because I love doing it (even though at times it doesn’t love me back). And because sometimes, I hate doing it too (even during those times I have no choice but to do it).
The existence of this love-hate relationship with writing makes me convinced that I am a writer. I must be one. I mean, aren’t all writers love writing and hate it too at one point or another?
Now, that I'm in college, I'm taking up creative writing. Now, I have more reasons to accept reality and believe that I’d most likely spend my entire life doing this. But let me tell you more about that another time.