Writing for me is like physical exercise. I tell myself that I should start writing as soon as possible because if I don’t, I’ll regret it later. I told myself this over 2 years ago when I signed up for Tumblr. I was so proud that I actually typed out a post and shared it. However, after reading and comprehending what I had typed as my first post a few days later, it discouraged me from trying to form a habit of writing every day. I thought the paragraph was cheesy and overdone. Now, after taking creative writing classes in college I’ve come to realize that no matter what I write it will always sound corny to me, but I’m slowly starting to embrace it. Maybe that’s how I’m suppose to begin by awkwardly making my way towards the path of habitual writing. My updated definition of success isn’t to be great, but to simply write.
I blast my favorite music and sing as loud as I want. There are other times when I will watch a movie or a funny YouTube video. If I’m not in the mood to do any of the things I just listed, I also talk to my parents or my older sister about what’s bothering me.
It begins with writer’s block. I feel as if I’m on a ship without any sails, just sitting there, stranded in the middle of the ocean. How did I even get here? I couldn’t even remember. But I know one thing for sure and it’s that I came out here for a purpose, only that I have yet to discover what that purpose is. Eventually an idea hits me of how I can move my ship by using what I have available on board, for instance making an oar from broken floorboards and some rope. Even though I feel as if my ship isn’t moving, I still continue to row. After many exhausting hours of rowing, I lay myself down to rest as I’m gently rocked to sleep by the waves crashing against the sides. As I close my eyes I hope that my dreams inspire me or at least give me the strength to create a better tomorrow by bringing me closer to my destination.