Again.
I did, most of the time but mostly on the back of the current notebook I am using. Honestly, I have plenty of them. Whenever my eyes laid on something which the cover piqued my interest, yeah! I buy on impulse but I never rued one bit of that decision, to have my hands on those notepads and notebooks. They are the silent witnesses of the crazy world I live in.
The line is taking too slow to be served but this gave me a chance to read book and now, writing something out of an ordinary Tuesday. I looked at every face in the bank and posting question on the air on every forehead of each human being present, "what is your story? Can you be my protagonist? One of the passersby? Antagonist?" I believed every man has a story to tell, albeit, not all is given that much thought by a writer.
I am writing another novel which I already claimed to be finished before Valentine's day. Not because I have exuberant dinner date or something, I just want to submit this for an editor to read on or trash, who knows.
But yeah, I am writing again but unlike before, I've gone primitive just like how this dream started. I bought spiral artistic notebooks made of 60% recycled paper pulp and soybean printing ink used for the lines. Also, I am using .4 ball point pen and all set. I knew from there this writing will not cause burden on our environment.
I stared blankly at the spaces on the pads, like they were mocking me for having thoughtless concept. I never had a plot before. I just wrote groping from memories that glimpse of idea which passed by. It wasn't even pre-conceived, I wrote according to the kick on my gut that yeah I have to write it down.
Presently, I prepared for this. Had the inspiration when I argued with my significant other about happiness and consciousness and I took my phone and wrote the synopsis. No ellipsis, only period.
I am writing. They said you don't have to write complicated ones but what does google stand for if you cannot browse everything, or, there are still the presence of public libraries which has been my harbor for knowledge since I started reading.
I will be pushing right through a sharpened point, I will finish the story even if I'll grow callous on my middle finger again. Writing on the phone or writing on papers has no difference, at all. The ideas flow from one source. And I intend to pour out wisdom and decency this time.
I am not writing because I want to make a living, I am writing because that is who I am. Writing has been a lamentation of my soul. And if I continue denying this ability, I might cease to exist.
I am writing sans reticence because if I will, I will be lodged in a blank space and hollowness which will drag my soul to deep grief and I'm not sure if I can be able to step out.
I live because I need to write and I write because that's how I live.
