Why do I write? I can’t say that I’m writing for my friends. That’s too presumptuous, and probably, would seem arrogant that I assumed somebody is really reading this crap. I can’t even say that I’m writing just for myself either. That’s hypocrisy. I’m not writing for the good of mankind or for world peace either. I guess, to be safe, I’m just writing because I love to write. Just as Seinfeld love to speak about nothing, I do love to write about nothing.
Lately, I haven’t written anything that I devoted my time into. I think my last is when I’ve fallen in love with someone. Now, the tide has changed and the lukewarmness in my desire to write continues.
For myself, I’m trying to figure out the reason for these numbness and sometimes fondness in writing. What triggers this love of mine for writing? Are there seasons? Do I love to write when I’m happy or when I’m sad? When do I feel inspired?
Lately, I’ve heard of this wonderful song. It is a religious song which I think is quite pleasant to hear again and again. “O Hesus, hilumin mo aking sugatang puso nang aking mahango kapwa kong kasing bigo”.
Now, surprisingly, I think I’m making progress. I’m beginning to write again.
By the way, I don’t want to write about the same things twice. But sometimes, you just love to write. I’m not sure if I wrote something about this in the past. If I did, well I guess I’m on that same season now. Hopefully, in the future I can write about something interesting and worthwhile.
