Saturday, September 1, 2012

Rediscovering

After yesterday's rediscovering, I tried to look for more of my old writings to know the kind of person I was then and see how much I've grown. I was never much of a factual writer, as I was drenched in all things fiction. All my writings tended to be of ideal scenarios that have never and may never come to life. A lot of these things end up forgotten in one of my notebooks or in another blog, and I don't know why I never got around to sharing it on here. Maybe I was just being lazy. Or maybe I was waiting for the right time? I don't know.

Photo taken from  http://weheartit.com/entry/8399554
Inspired from the photo above, I wrote this on the 31st of March 2011:
I wish we could just lie here and read each other’s minds and hear each other’s hearts. No need for silly conversations and acting all cool on the outside. We’d have each other’s raw thoughts and feelings to assure us of this moment, of this time together. In this moment, we are not two bodies in search of convergence, but one soul living with burning passion.
The first few minutes after reading it, I wasn't quite sure if it was really something I've written. I tried to look it up on Google to make sure, but I couldn't find a match. The first three sentences felt like mine, but the last one was somehow foreign to me. Did I write this half asleep? Maybe. It took me a while to remember (or confabulate) that it is indeed one of my work. I then felt like maybe I could end up writing a cliche of a young adult novel. (insert eye rolls here)

On one of my short story writing binges, I came up with a snippet that I intended to expand when I had the time. I never got around to doing it, and now I don't think I ever will. It's a dead end. Reading it again makes me cringe a little on the inside, but I think it's worth sharing before it's completely forgotten.
A Mistake I’m Willing To Make
I love you. I know I shouldn’t, but I do. I’m defying all my self-imposed rules, and I don’t even care. You are the first puff of smoke and the last drop of alcohol. You are sinful yet unmistakably delightful. You make my knees of stone wobble like jelly and my putrid heart is renewed like spring’s first blossom.
In the end, I know, you’ll only break my heart and crush my soul, but right now, I don’t give a damn. Make me feel like shit, I don’t care. Just let me love you. For now, for this very moment, let me embrace this insanity.
Although I still find myself writing bites of fiction every now and then, somehow it's just not the same as the ones I used to write. Themes have changed, the writing voice has changed. I realize that maybe my writing has evolved in some way. It has changed because, well, I myself have changed.

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