Writing.... is part of my life, part of who I am. Writing helped to define who I am, writing helped in my struggles reconciling flesh and thoughts, between what I appeared on the outside and who I really am on the inside.
I grew up as an awkward person, using my body to resist typical norms and practices, yet at the same time, being affected by it. My refusal to sensualize myself as a teen, my appearance always looking lost and un-transcending the borders of a child and womanhood, was a sort of resistance to the pressures around me that told me what I should conform to. Yet, these very acts I put on myself, put a strain on me as I observed the reactions people had towards me, and I felt, at that point, rejected and hating on myself, hating on the world. Writing, drawing, dreaming, was that escape into my own world, where I could be myself, above flesh, into the world of human consciousness, larger than life.
The days of blogging are almost over, visual technologies advanced so much that visuals are texts today. Videos and pictures depict daily life. Sometimes I still struggle over "millennial" styled pictures where I cannot appreciate how the picture is in anyway related to the caption. But as I move along with #insta trends, and busy-ness, I stopped writing. I started painting, baking making other stuffs. But something felt missing. I cannot seem to find completeness in the things I create, without words to reflect who I am.
Words are life.
My writing and thought processes also needs to be honed. Since I am doing a PhD, writing is essential. I need to learn to write daily, write efficiently, improve the way in which I express professionally, academically. I need to be deft with words, so that it can come out of my mouth beautifully and coherently.
This post commences the start of journal-ling my thoughts, (as I depart from posting on Facebook), to let my readers aka friends and family get a sense of how I am doing, what I am doing, whats on my mind without me having to explain to them only when I get back home.
