Most of the times we write to take note of things, like what we wanna buy and what we need to buy, or our goals and how to accomplish them. Others even carry a planner or just an old plain notebook for keeping track. But there comes a time when we feel like writing just because we want to—to a friend, to a family member, to our partners, or to ourselves.I find writing for me, to me, and by me satisfying. It happens when emotions are in its extreme. At moments when I have a huge problem and my heart hurts so badly that crying isn’t enough. Or when I feel like I’m in seventh heaven and I need to put it down to remember coz pictures aren’t sufficient. At those times, I found myself writing. And I don’t need a particular paper to take them down, sometimes even the back of a scratch one would. I just know that it has to be somewhere.
The letters I made, I keep in my drawer. I plan to read them in the future to see what happened. I’m sure some of them will make me smile while the others will make me cringe, or curse even. It’s a time to reflect and evaluate life. Maybe it will change my mind entirely or will make me do things I didn’t pursue. Whatever happens, I just know that when I open those letters again, realizations will come pouring in. Perhaps I’d be filled with the same emotions, like being there once more.
We blog to express, share, and communicate. But some things we wanna keep to ourselves. Writing on paper gives us a different kind of feeling than typing on keyboard could bring. I don’t know about you but I feel more alive when I know that what I’m making becomes immortal. We forget, yes, but choosing to write is choosing to cherish. And that already makes it beautiful.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt Pens and Pencils.