Blog Birthday Soon.

And before you know it, almost 12 months has passed.

Writing centers me.

I have blogging to thank for bringing me back to thoughts and words. I’ve always written sporadically (letters, emails, the occasional poem and essay, the rare diary entry, writing for work) but I’ve always been at home with the written word – mine and others’. I was born a bookworm. I did take up journalism in college, on the principle of taking the most obvious and easy route.

I didn’t do my diary entries religiously though because oftentimes life happened too fast, no time to scribble. Or in the grip of a painful moment, or the middle of a circuitous and guilt-ridden process, I just didn’t want to pen a final word. Writing requires honesty and up-frontness with one’s self. It doesn’t work to do PR with your spirit.

Then too, when I started working with words, it became stressful. In fact when I discovered another field, I let it – writing – go (though the skill came in quite handy in writing reports and proposals.)

I thought it was time to develop other aspects of myself. But I missed the point.

Writing centers me.

Now I know.

I mostly write to put down funny thoughts or to unclutter my mind. Blogging works because I know that when I let go of a thought or an idea or an event by writing it, these stuff of mine still exist somewhere, pinned up on the information highway. My own little billboard. It’s letting go at peeking distance. Like you know that in a parallel life somewhere you’re living the life you would have lived had you made the other decision.


Or I write as rumination. A question tickles me and I write down all the varied thoughts I have about it, like would you move a million miles for love? At the end of writing, I am satisfied, having thought it out in full. Amusing sometimes how having written it all out and posted, I promptly lose my attachment to the topic or the theme, no matter sometimes how people react or get a good discussion going. It doesn’t matter anymore, it’s done.

It’s also like collecting the mundane stuff written on differently colored post-it notes and putting it all in one box. The mundane and the divine.


I miss that old URL/ blogspot address.
The mundane and the divine is me :D but I had to move because I don’t really want to be read by everyone around me. Just those who need to or like to for the right reasons.

Or sometimes I post stuff I want to put out there. If you want to find it, it’s just there. Follow your nose.

Even so, I hold that many things are too sacred to be put into words, simply because the sum of the words is not equal to the sacredness of the experience or the wish. Hence, some things will never find their way here. Or maybe it’s also about respecting other people’s privacy.

Be that as it may, we are different from moment to moment, and my last moment may no longer be true. I mean, read me but don’t hold me to it :D.

And if in the process of writing, I may have tickled your funny bone, sparked your own questions, pushed your buttons, and entertained you, that is my bonus. The fifteenth month pay like a gentle kiss to the forehead.

Tsup.