I can clearly remember when I started writing, and more importantly I remember why I started to write recreationally. In my middle school days, I remember that I thought of writing as a chore, and I avoided the sight of a pen and paper unless it was a matter of life or death (to my grades, no less; which sometimes can actually lead to either life or death). But then, I got acquainted with poetry, with which, even then, we had maintained a casual relationship.
Over the years and the ascending levels of my English class, my skills have improved. Teachers and classmates alike threw around labels, such as gifted, talented, or natural. Though, I never really payed too much attention to stuff like that; because to put it simply, I never held writing as a niche - only a tool.
Oh, how times have changed. For one, I stopped arguing for clean energy and now I preach the gospel of the drill (though I’m slowly making my transition back). For another, I’ve grown to love writing. It has become my escape into my dreams and my visions. Writing has given me a rare outlet to express my feelings, which were pretty dark and melancholic, looking back. I fell in love with writing, and I like to think it has grown to love me too.
But now, the million dollar question, “Why did I start writing?” I could probably bullshit my way through how my long relationship with writing evolved to new heights and we held hands forever and ever, but really only one thing comes to mind: my older brother.
At the same time, my older brother has been evolving as a writer as well. In fact, he actually wrote his own pieces, which gained acclaim from all over Facebook, as he was a pretty popular guy – and he still is. As for me, I was a different person back then, which in this case was my sophomore year of high school. I was goofy, nerdy, and socially awkward, to say the least – sometimes I still am, but on a lesser scale. I figured that if I start writing, I’ll somehow magically become “cool.” Nevertheless, I began to emulate him entirely; but along the way I found a home in this writer’s state of mind. After a few trial pieces, I became completely absorbed into this idea of expressing oneself through the pen and paper – an image that has haunted me before is now one I hold dearly, now that I’ve let down my defenses.
Eventually, my journey as a writer took me to tumblr, where my career flourished and my skills matured over the years. I started writing essays on topics that mean something to me, all the while reconnecting with my love of poetry and lyricism. Verily, I’ve established myself not only as a veteran writer but also as a man, matured and primed.
I am grateful for the tools tumblr has given me to convey my emotions and my thoughts. And for this reason, I have decided to part ways with my blog. As I continue to mature and grow as a writer and as a person, I will find another way to write about the matters I deeply care about, all the while keeping my personal pieces to myself, except in the cases of popular demand. Nonetheless, as I close the chapter of tumblr, I will begin anew to find my place as a distraught, confused, shameless writer in this world.
Thank you, tumblr community and thank you, friends for your support.
Until next time.