Why I Write

Posted: July 6, 2012 in Uncategorized
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This was supposed to be an essay. A friend told us (me and my other friends in the Literati) to write why we write and I came up with this. In the end, there are things that I discovered. First, I write but I am not a writer. Second, I make poems but I am not a poet. And third, how do I call myself, then.


Why I Write

A newbie or a novice, you may call me that way in the arena of writing. Learning and discovering new things, which are ingredients towards better writing, are inevitable along this path. Discouragements and criticisms as well are like sharp stones scattered on the road that can prick the sole of the foot anytime; and it hurts!

I don’t quite remember the time when I started writing. All I know is that, as a young boy, learning my abc’s tickled my desire to reading. However, the things I read were the kinds of “Kwento ni Lola Basyang” stories. I even rented my classmate’s story book for a day or two just so I can read the stories.

Living in the farm, since my dad brought us to the farm to live, was not easy. My only console was listening to radio; the absence of electrical power denied us the fantastic world of television. Every Sunday afternoon, there was this particular drama of Bombo Radio, Angelito Celestial, which I was so fond of. This was a story of a boy angel and his star who go to earth and help the people. The exciting thing about this drama was that, listeners can send their stories about Angelito and they will air it. I was excited then, and attempted my first story. It was a success, although, I was not given the chance to send it.

Stepping to high school opened the avenue to writing poetry. I just, one day, started writing poetry. It was through poetry that I courted my exes, although, confidence with what I had written was something I really needed to discover then. It was also during that time that I became fascinated with Filipino pocket-sized books. Why Filipino only? Because my English comprehension sucked! (Well actually, it still does.) English was way too much for me. I can’t digest English words and cannot put word-meaning in context. Even during reports, comprehension of what I was reporting was something I really had to spent time with. For my four years high school life, if I’m not mistaken, I only had read two English novels, thick ones.

Today, writing is something that is part of me. I just cannot help myself write. I can better express my thoughts through writing than through speaking. Through poems, I can say what I want. Through stories, I can build my world of fantasies. I just write. I just simply write.

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