San Biag Ko: Failings...

©2010 Johnny Domawa 

All Rights Reserved

I am a writer. Or at least I aspire to be. There is something about the written word that makes me hunger for more. I am not a particularly good conversationalist and thus my thoughts are more or less trapped inside my mind. The only way I could release them is to put the thoughts to paper, or in this case to digital words.

I knew however, from ever since that writing as a profession here in the country is like wishing for the blue moon. It is something only a privileged few can ever aspire to have as a profession. Well, one can become a news reporter but given the state of news reporting here in the country, you might as well lock yourself in a closed room and delude yourself. So I chose a different path.

Yet now, despite long years of denying the urge to write, I realize that it is the one thing that I still dream of. Time flies with the tapping of the keyboard and the thrill of finishing something fills me with a warmth that I thought I’d never be feeling again.

It does not mean, however, that the chance of me living off my writing is better. In fact, one might say that this reality has not changed at all. Literature in the country is dying. The time of poets, novelists and the like is over. They are drowned by twitter feeds and facebook status updates. The silent afternoons spent with a book have been replaced with the daily dance routines with live media. This is the truth of things.

There is something that has changed, however. I have accepted the fact that there is no money to be made in writing but I could not also put my back to it just for this reason. What matters is that I enjoy doing the things I value the most. Strange that it took me the better part of 29 years to realize that. And though facebook and twitter may have conquered the consciousness of everyone, perhaps I could use them to reach a few eyes. That in itself would make it worthwhile.

We have reached the age where we need to reestablish ourselves. Gone are the carefree days of youth when we can say that we’ll just flow with the current. The time to take stock on our lives is here and there is a need to come to terms with the reasons upon which we chart our life. For me, it means revisiting the ideals that I once harbored in my youth.

I’ll probably never be a novelist or a renowned poet. Chances are, my literary pieces will vanish and fade as the years pass by. But that does not diminish the newfound vigor that inspires me to revisit that part of my psyche that once filled me with unadulterated bliss. I’ve reconnected with the wide – eyed youngster of yesteryears and I realize that I am happier with this rediscovery.

Life will grind onwards. Events will either conspire to dash all hopes and make life miserable or it would move towards a bright future, or just grind on in monotonous cadence. Whatever happens though, I can say with conviction that I would face it with my reconciliated self. And there is no better grasp of self than the knowledge of one being at peace with every facet of one’s nature.

Life does not play out as we plan. It takes detours or other directions different from how we once envisioned it. Sometimes it tramples us underneath, sometimes it elevates us to new heights the depths of which we have never foreseen. And sometimes it becomes a dull repetitive experience that drowns out our will. Sometimes we surrender and just let it be or fight and end up bitter. No matter. That is the tapestry that is called life. Sadness and pain inevitably entwine and hold us. But we can choose not to be drowned by despair.

After all, life is what we make of it…