Time has given its verdict. I'm destined with essays and the utter use of the mighty pen. Of course with the technology nowadays, I'm sticking with the easy keyboard instead (save the trees!).

Back when I was in elementary I used to say only the geeks love words, sentences and paragraphs. I never really took my time to go to the library and discover for myself what kind of magic these books have over these so-called geeks that they love writing so much. I'd rather do Math or play patintero and jack stones.

Like a normal elementary student, each Language class we were required to write paragraphs about random topics. Remember the formal and the non-formal theme notebook which is the size of a drawing book? I dreaded to write my heart out that time despite how our energetic teacher encouraged us. To make my 5-sentence paragraph look long I tried to use two lines as I drew the seemingly enlarged and exaggerated words along the page. It was a style of the typical dawdler but I was proud of what I did. That would be enough just to get my grades done. One shocking incident happened though. My teacher loved my work! I said to myself she must be crazy. She must be in her most desperate attempt to lure me into her microcosm. The next thing I knew, I woke up inside the library A PARTICIPANT IN AN ENGLISH WRITING CONTEST!

I didn't win though. My greatest competitors were the geeks I was talking about. And boy they sure loved filling up every bit of space a tablet paper has as I just sat there watching them, dazed, not knowing what to write or how to begin. For one thing, I had a really bad handwriting and certainly my dawdling style didn't work at all. The saddest part of it, due to my childhood naiveté (I actually mean stupidity) and inability to grasp or even care about the world, I didn't know what the theme is about ("What the hell is global warming?!") so basically my work wasn't as readable and essential as a competitor's work in an English writing contest supposed to be. It was a mess.

It was the most frustrating event in my early childhood years but nevertheless, as nostalgia took me back in awe I realize it opened my eyes to the wonderful world of journalism. I wanted to know more. I wanted to write with passion. I wanted to be a geek.

High school became my training ground in the field of writing. In my personal sojourn, I saw myself growing and gradually maturing into the Freelancer Geek I craved to be. I met and have been good friends with the same people I branded weird back in elementary. I helped finish a really cool short story for an English class project. I became an active writer and layout editor of newspaper-making projects in Journalism class. I formulated some scripts for group or class plays. I wrote poems, essays, and various literary pieces that finally in my senior year, from a copyreader I was appointed associate editor-in-chief with my co-geek best friend as the editor-in-chief in our school publication The Agnesian.

Sadly we didn’t produce any paper the whole year despite the relentless nights and skipping-classes-for-publication-related-and-invented-excuses days we almost lost our lives to. I guess we were bound to enjoy the antipathetic stresses of a student journalist merely for the sake of experience because after everything we did the world suddenly sucked. It was an issue between our budget for the printing and reproduction of our hard work and the new principal of our school. I wonder where it went and why it wasn’t followed up but one thing’s for sure, the world moved on and so should I. I got me a The Agnesian service award during graduation anyway.

College was a different picture than high school. Way different. I continuously forced myself to love and commit myself in the art and science of nursing. I convinced myself I needed this odd kind of covenant with medicine in order for me to go abroad and earn dollars. However, in the long tedious process of education, I failed to notice I began disregarding my other skills. I started having the most grotesque symptom of an erratic scribbler, the writer’s block.

I had the writer's block for almost three years now and it gave me quite a lag in the development of my inner scribe. Each time we were tasked to write an essay, I'd be too in a hurry and straight to the point like the average and the obvious instead of playing with words and constructing my piece to full detail and expecting a higher grade.

I keep a diary to spare that part of my brain that loves literature from ulterior deterioration. Oftentimes though, despite having a personal journal to capture my college moments, I’d be too tired to even think of an opening sentence. I’d be too mysterious and brief with my story so my brother can’t understand what really happened when he comes meddling with my personal life. And that journal remains brief in every date of every page. Almost as if I killed the world detail in my mind dictionary. I failed to tell my story as detailed as I wanted to read about it 50 or 60 years in the future.

I even missed intentionally the opportunity to join our college publication The Vital Signs. The moment the publication’s adviser announced the upcoming auditions, an inner spark of hope made me want to grab that chance and be an instant officer of that club. But then at the back of my mind, the desperate devil kept on whispering, “Additional stress…Your friends are not joining anyway that’ll be boring right?...You’re too lazy you can’t even study in advance or review enough to get exams perfect what more with another responsibility?” And the ever echoing, “Don’t…don’t…don’t” continued hovering above my head until I realized the auditions were over and a new set of staffers were declared. Oh well. Rant.

Wonder what suddenly hit my head, took over my body and commanded me to create a purple-themed Blogger blog site? Would you believe it’s Boredom? Well, believe it or tell me “Wehh di nga?” but yes, boredom over the summer vacation triggered this reawakening of my inner scribe. I’ve proven my own destiny with writing that despite the lazy moments and the three year old freakin’ writer’s block, I still have it.

And now I just finished writing my first post. I missed this so much. ^_^