I discovered how spontaneous I have become in the last two years since the pandemic snatched the normal lives out of us. Depending on how you see it, it could either be a curse or a blessing in disguise.
But, no. I’m not here to dump anything about the pandemic. I have dealt enough to narrate in this little online space what I went through.
I’m talking about my passion—writing.
I’m one to admit that I lost my touch. I was a pile of ideas back then. The fervor and the excitement every time my fingers began to tap the keys to create a paper of my downloaded thoughts? Temporarily gone for several years.
Now, I am back. Hopefully for good.
I don’t have certain goals nor quotas. Just the right amount of inspiration to pen my thoughts. I don’t want to force myself either. That would be a disservice to myself. I would write and share my unchecked, bursting thoughts into a tiny space called IG (and Facebook) Story where you could monitor who’s seen or reacted or replied to them. I thought to myself, “Why shouldn’t I go back to where it all started?”
Now that I’m almost at the brink of bidding farewell to my chaotic 20s, I felt like I’ve evolved over the years. The way I write now, the way I’d stylize my words, and the manner of carefully and properly treading the waters of being politically correct.
Everything did change.
Last night, I happened to come across one of the older episodes of a certain local podcaster while having my dinner. The topic was about how to stay motivated. While it does not literally touch the boundary of being inspired, it kind of sparked inspiration in me. Sometimes we need inspiration to stay motivated.
Given how inspired I have become in the last 12 hours, I spontaneously went back to try to salvage my previous writer form. Only this time am I more refined yet much simpler.
I hope this resumes the lost passion I once had. Knowing that there are a few who come to read and listen to my loud thoughts on paper, I have a great feeling that this is a good start.
A long-awaited return.
Since '92 