Aug 4, 2012

Gift of the Written Word

When I was a younger teenager, I used to write a lot. Mainly fiction. I kept a few physical journals, several Livejournal accounts and a few blogs. Up until I was 20, I used to update my blog 8 to 10 times a day. My imagination ran wilder than a masterless horse. I used to have a way of communicating a whole lot more and I used to have a lot more stories to tell.

But as I get older, I began to be a little more reserved, less of a storyteller. I can't figure out why exactly. I don't like to think that I have just exhausted my imagination and gave way to the real adult life and ways of thinking.

For the past 6 weeks, I have taken on an online screenwriting class from UCLA. It is probably the best RM2000+ I've spent so far. But I noticed as I wrote my midterm and especially final year paper, I began to face some difficulties. Mainly in expressing and explaining certain points. I couldn't find the words.

And it makes me sad. My dad always said that I have this gift for words. But I fear I might have lost it as I got older.

After dropping out of MMU, the six months I spent at home was when I did the most of my writing. Fiction mainly. But when I finally went back to school, my writing was restricted to academic writing. In the first semester I had written a 200-page report for Sociology and it made me realize that my professors are never going to read it page to page. So I began to write shorter reports, shorter essays. The reports and essay still delivered my points, but it was in a more... simple language. Simply because I had group members that needed to read it to understand in order to do presentations.

Not to say that they were dumb, not at all. But I realized that some people might just not get to where I was going with the reports.

But in my eyes, I see it as what it is: I got lazy.


I hate to admit that I've gotten lazy. I want to be able to write and create better stories for people to read. I want to be able to pick up a book again and read and expand my imagination in order for me to write my own stories. But it's even harder to pick up a book and finish reading it nowadays because I just get incredibly exhausted.

I want to write again. I want to be able to put together words that will invoke an emotion in a person - make them happy, make them upset, provoke and disturb them in ways that I used to know how.

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