Tuesday, September 9, 2008

Off my chest

I’ve forgotten the joy of just writing things down.

It came to a point where it’s okay not to blog anymore. It’s okay to just off the recorder and let life zoom past. It’s okay to wipe the lens while everything happens around you.

If life sucks, let me immerse in a never-ending gaming frenzy. Preferably those games that tuck my brain cells safely away and cut the leash off my adrenaline too. It’s all action and no time to think. Apparently, dashing in restaurants while cursing all the babies (only Diner Dash-ers can feel me) or dressing up models with crazy-looking but admittedly redundant clothes (squeal it with me, Eileen: “Jojo Fashion Show!”) takes your mind off the shit in life faster than you can say “f----!”

Gaming is fun, but its not fulfilling. At least, unlocking the frilly apron does not make my day (I rue the day it does). Writing used to be fulfilling. It used to be one of the very few things that I can do without breaking anything. But now, writing breaks me.

Writing became an exhausting affair, mostly draining my self-esteem. Starting every piece of writing with a bang used to be a little challenge I give myself; now it’s become compulsory - a criterion that I am less and less able to fulfill as days go on. Everything I write seems lame, unimportant, unworthy of the time. Cutesy games beckon, and I followed dreamily into a world where my words do not matter, and there are always someone who writes lamer lines (“It’s cool to serve ice cream yoghurts! Get it?”).

The very passion that helped me to heal through pains, make sense of issues and put a grin on my face is now merely my tool to survive assignments and occasionally, writing jobs. I still want to write, so badly. The good old days when I can just churn out line after the line; I miss it terribly.

I take this too seriously, I admit. When you put all your eggs in a basket, you’ll be careful about who sees your basket; lest they realize that you actually have too little eggs.

I need to let go. I need the peace which only He can give. Life sucks these days. Too much unnecessary drama. Too much hatred going on everywhere. Too much broken promises. Too much bad energy. Too much things that shouldn’t even be here at the first place.

It’s too much. I’m gonna bundle them up and give them to God. Sort it out, please. I’m drowning, they are choking, and we just need your hand, the very hand that you pulled Peter up from the water and said “why did you doubt?”

Please grant her the happiness that she deserves, Jesus. I love her so dearly. Please give us the peace which only you can give. You promised, God, two thousand years ago. Someone wrote it down and now it’s the best-selling novel in the world.

Please come for your imperfect children down here. We’re all messed up and I think some of us ate our bibs.

I don’t make sense. But it doesn’t matter, as Eileen will justify it perfectly.

4 comments:

vic said...

*hugs* i know what you mean, mum. i guess that's why my blog's abandoned for so long..too few 'eggs' to show off? xP but yes, hardly writing just for the joy of it anymore has diminished my verbal prowess and ability to say what i mean, even in writing. kudos to you for sticking to it even when cute games beckon! ;)
Now, gimme Jojo's Fashion frenzy!!!

Hafutota no JE said...

I think every writer will come to a point in life, stop for a while, and start asking him/herself; where did it go?

And I think it's inevitable. I think, and somehow i guess i know, it's all part of that path in writing and story-telling. I believe every writer eventually feels it ebbing, see the hole in the paper close, see it become shy and reclusive and avoiding. And then the world picks up and they get swept away.

And I always feel that this is sort of the point of the path where the choices started branching. It's either braving through, and taking the extra edge to pave away, or walk away and realise that it's been a beautiful dream.

I think it was Phillip Pullman who once said that every writer has to be the most stubborn person in the world; and while i understand that to each writer is his/her own credo, i also think that it's true. I think that writers should really go, "to heck with this, even if i'm not writing as well, i'll get it down."

the best thing about writing something is that you can always rewrite it. you can always make it better. that's what i feel. A writer shouldn't be afraid to always show the basket, few eggs or not, because not everyone actually have eggs to show. Not everyone has the basket.

And it's all about adding eggs into it if there aren't enough, and as far as i know, you mostly need someone to tell you that.

(My apologies if I annoy more than I advise)

teh ais limei said...

>> Vic

You sure you want it? in the middle of exams?? *dangles game in front of vic*

^^ well, i think now you actually blog more often than me. how to get rid of mushrooms in your fridge also can write until so funny. wanna take over our family business of wielding the pen? XD

>> Jee

Thanks for writing such a beautiful reply! Nope you don't annoy =) How can you annoy when you have taken the time to read my long ramblings and give an insightful reply, in the middle of exams somemore?

Well I guess I'll want to brave through (gingerly though, lest I break ALL the eggs in my basket [and no vic, thou shalt not be naughty about my use of idioms XD]) Mainly cos I won't be contented with just abandoning this passion, even if it flickers more often than it burns. Oh, and because it wasn't that much of a beautiful dream - in my beautiful dream, i get paid big bucks traveling all over the world to write *dreamy look* =P

Ah well, let's soldier on, wielding pen (or isit keyboards now?) and shouting nonsensical war cries. Any takers? ^^

Anonymous said...

darling what's wrong?

*warm hugs and kisses*

-Eileen-