Writing is ...

The realization hits different when you have known everything is going so much better. One moment, you are sure the odds are going in their right places. You have expected luck, for once, to come knocking on your door and it did. It relished your negative battles... somehow. But in that momentary bliss, say amidst watching your favorite series or taking all the time to finish your midnight snacks—right then and there, you have come across a sentence from the internet that made everything a blurry snap. Suddenly, what you thought is fine handed you over the relapse button and you were smashing it real hard.

I figured eventually that I'm not the only one who feels this way. I have seen this exact quote before but I hadn't paid any attention to it just yet. But now, it's another thing. It's a different kind of uneasiness because I know the truth that lies in this phrase might probably contain ruination. Or maybe something close to that.

It made me think. What am I most passionate about? Maybe if you have been writing metaphors and trying to make sense in your wordplays all the time, you will say writing. I am passionate about writing. Writing with underlying meaning made my soul alive more than ever. That's true. But in my mind, I am just a burning poet enough to write just a portion of my mind but I cannot make a world out of it. I remember dreaming back then about finishing a book of my own, getting all motivated and inspired by the several authors I admire, and attempting to bring that dream to life countless times a year. Until I realize I'm not for it.

However, in the corners of my scared mind, I say, “Maybe not now. Maybe I need more years, knowledge, and courage from myself, to make it even real.” That's why whenever my friends tell me that I should just try, I can only look far ahead. Because I tried, I know, and it only led me to this day.

It's food for my ambitious heart whenever I watch kinds of stuff related to it. The relief of sweating and beating your moves out is what I love the most. The dread of practicing for days and just drowning in your anxious thoughts whenever the day comes. It's as if dancing for the crowd you created in your head. And at that moment, I must say it's not what I was made for. I can dance but not dance to auditions, competitions, or any stellar stage without melting to shame. That realization is like the endless heave of breaths I'm trying to catch every after a dance routine. No broad willingness could ever make me step up no matter what. And it's exhausting.

It's fun and all that every time they hand me the microphone over karaoke sessions. As if I should just swallow it for the world to hear me when I sing. But I wouldn't do that, of course. It's only a hyperbole phrase that is trying to console my silent troubles. When I'm bored, I sing shamelessly in my room or at least record it and keep it rotten until I would find it after three years. Only to delete files of it. But what made my feelings valid like any other fanatic, were the many music artists—even K-pop idols who brought me comfort through their music. It is an embrace to my heart, knowing how to sing and recognizing my voice. But it's frustrating too when I have long shut down my insecurities inside a jar no one has ever seen. Whenever I think I have made progress, they come out with much better force than my denial.

So I stay back and abandon that uprising hope. That tiny self-esteem that held on to me for a talent known to many isn't endless. It's not enough to carry me to contests and performances. Leaving me only knowing without potential.

Oh, I know. This is my favorite. Before even writing, I do theme/concept editing which is known to many of my age these days. I did it for about a year and a half during my participation in an online group. I have gained knowledge and experience from it and so far, it's a memorable capability that I have embedded in the roots of my brain. I probably won't forget it. Something about creativity, patterns, and colors adds up to my sanity. Despite it being so time-consuming, it is the type of calm you would want to be lost into. There was even a time when I planned to pursue a program related to it in my college admission. But then, many circumstances made it short-lived so I eventually lost the will the continue. The thought of reaching something uncertain made me back down as usual. I had to close that phase of my life too.

Many dreams, many hobbies, and things I want to learn for myself. Be good in games, painting, numbers, public speaking, socializing, academics, sports, literature, arts, finding happiness, dodging the downside of life and so much more. I have found ardor even in the smallest things of a life so practical. Even gaining a tiny skill, a drop of experience, and bits of knowledge. All that and being good at many things but never the type to excel at something. Because passionate hearts just don't mean a summit to something I have to own. Sometimes it's in the middle of everything but not behind it all. Settling for what's enough was a scary route I had to take on. Much more overcoming it but only to be back at square one because I have spent my best days for something that is not for me no matter how I want it.

So believe me when I say how this phrase made me only think. And anxious. And wary. And gray. It made me feel all the other words to describe just the ordinary me. I thought of what exact passion I have lost and grew tired of. I thought of the exact things I did back then that I could no longer recognize in my skin. Is it the talents that I am not capable of sustaining? No? I think what I am is about only being good at things. I have keep it that way 'til all the passionate spirits in me are consumed no longer.

But I realized there was one in these things that never abandoned my entirety. That's what writing feels like. Writing is being devoured whole like a famished paper. It is a stain in the valleys of my blood. Maybe despite being an average girl, the only thing that keeps me open more than my urge to find purpose in many things is writing. I'm no longer good at the things I used to be passionate about because I have found my soul in these words. And maybe it's not so bad at all, maybe it will compensate for the dreams I so want to achieve. To write is as boundless as ambitions. Maybe I don't have to finish a book. Maybe I should someday.

But you know what matters? It's the ability to still bare my mind with a story through ordinary words. No number of pages will prove it but only the beauty of my mind. Maybe through this, I will be sane again. It will all be better again.

@rks.wuhdrelis

_{A warrior of liberty. With ink stains on her mind and soul. Maayong adlaw! This page contains the information you might want to know about the author. She goes by the name Arques and is under the username @rks.wuhdrelis. She lives in Cebu, Philippines, and is a proud Bisaya. She is a listener of music and is currently drowning in the rhythm of her pop-punk playlist. And she reads too, either depressing or hilarious books. Words from MJ, btw.}

_{Arques is an 18-year-old girl, on a mission to her dream college and a writer wannabe is her reputation. There's a thin line between writing and music that enthralls her mind to scribble every time she has a chance to. To write is to dream and to dream is to be free. Except for nightmares, she believes so. She fancies writing prose poetries that is usually about childhood, life, love, tragedy, something peculiar, or even unnamed emotions. Stay tuned! TBE.}