Write What's Right

I've always wanted to write. I've always wanted to write. I've always wanted to write. I thought so. Just because I love to read, I thought I can write. They say when you read your horizon is expands. You tend to know more things and describe more feelings even those that you haven't experience before. You tend to materialise things that you've never imagine. You tend to make dreams come true. You tend to expect something you never had. And just because reading has influenced me this much, I thought I can write. Primary days were tough. I thought I can write. I thought I can be part of the student publication and do some commentaries my favorite journalist does. I thought I can disgust teachers with evil intentions. I thought I can expel students who go to riot. I thought I can carry out student welfare. I thought I can write. Instead, I was chosen to run as a representative of our Class for the Student Government. I thought I would win. Just as I thought, it didnt't happen. I didn't win. I didn't know you have to be pretty and popular, rich and cynical. I didn't all these. Yeah, I know. But I wasn't paying attention. Life didn't end there. I became part of the Varsity team instead. That, I never wished. But it happened. It was given to me. I thought I can write. I really want to become part of the newspaper. From reading, then writing. Then speaking. Now, I wanted to voice out what I feel. How I feel. How I perceive things. I know I can do it in writing. Then I'll speak out what have I written. I want to verbalise words. I want to give them life. I thought I can write that's why I once again tried my luck to join the publication. Hell yeah, I think I am one of those millions hopefuls who wants to embrace 'luck'. Same scenario. I didn't make it. Student government. I failed. Varsity team - I made it. Academe - I fulfill it. But I still wanted to write. Maybe I wasn't good enough. College. I took the exams to become part of the student paper. Tell me something about yourself; how would you react to criticisms; editorial board interviews and all that. I made it. Finally. Wooohooo! I think I can write! Shortly after they announced the passers, I was in awe. I was thinking - can I really write or I was just lucky? That's when I start to question myself. I thought I always wanted to write. Now that I have the full opportunity to do it, why does it make me sad? Because I feel that I am not prepared for it. Yet no one is prepared for something. No one has been given the task that is perfected the first time. And so I thought. Now, I can really write. That's an excuse whenever I write a rubbish article. Four years of writing. Fourty eight weeks in a year of reading a 40-page Inquirer newspaper. More than 4000 hours spent to edit and revise articles before it gets 'killed' by the editor-in-chief. More than 40,000 minutes wasted staring on a blank wall trying to come up with an interesting article. That was fun. Because I can write. I thought I can write. I did. Four non stop years of delivering heated conversations and information; editorials and commentaries. I tried to use highfalutin and outlandish words. But it never worked for me. That wasn't me. I tried to impress others - in which I succeeded. But I annoyed myself. Because that wasn't me at all. I used simple words and simple ideas. Yet, with big impact. I used normal language ordinary students can understand and make up. I used minimal numbers of adjectives and concentrated more on the dynamic action words. Students understood. Students cared - not on me, but on the news that I have written. That made me an effective writer. I thought I can write. I really did. Now, I still read. I still talk. I write - once in a while. Or I will formulate it in my mind then I'll forget about it. Only now I tried to be technical. More technical. Wants to make sure I am not misunderstood. That I can still deliver the message across. Effective communication, I always say. I thought I can write. I'll put it in my blog. And if you have reached this part, then you have wasted more than 10 minutes of your life reading this.