Writing

Recently, I got an e-mail from a professor about a project. It was terribly long. You can tell that the man, a handsome brilliant fellow whom I respect and admire, has no life and has too much time on his hands. Hidden within the clutter was this: "You're a good writer. Promise you are not going to waste your talent."

If there is one thing I have committed myself to, it's writing. I've had several phases in my life, times when I was completely obsessed over something, only for my interest to pass suddenly and without warning. Writing though has become the one single passion I have had for the past 10 years.

Make no mistake though: it is a love-hate affair. I love it when I think I'm doing good (like when I got that comment) and I hate it when the words refuse to make it on the blank page. But difficult as my relationship with her is, I think writing and I, were bound for life. Friends come and go, I jump from one job to another, but my relationship with the written word will continue for years.

A lot of writers would understand that when things become confusing, writing can be your best friend. Writing has always been my salvation-- I need it when I feel tired, when I need to put things into perspective. Some people cope by drinking, partying all night, or just eating. For me, I write. Okay, I eat as well.

Whatever happens, I will always write. For myself. There is no need to make promises.I cannot imagine life without it.