BEYOND THE EMPTY WORLD

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“I have never experienced this way before

I’ve never think that I will fall

Like a flower, that blooms in the spring

Imagining what tomorrow may bring＂

It sounds funny why I was able to write this passage from a poem that I actually wrote. Honestly, it’s not what you’re thinking—that so-called love thingy between two persons. No, it’s not, really. It is just a product of my imagination in which I try to bring to life. I am very certain that I fell in love with it. The way it removes my sorrow, the way it makes me fall a thousand times and the way it changes me, I love everything about it. I can convey a thousand words through writing. It’s like writing becomes my partner in life. Writing constantly amused me—reminiscing through the use of my own terms is such an immense sentiment I could ever receive. Remember Samuel Clemens—best known by his pen name Mark Twain who is one of the most original and gifted American writers. He had “produced his share in this world; he had outlived most of the people he cared for; the world was in a bad way and he was not averse to leaving it.” He did these things through writing. He even plagiarized his childhood because of writing. When his wife died, he wrote that he knew what the soldiers feels when a bullet crashes through his heart. It’s still amazing how writing can help you to tell your agonizing pain. And it will always be astonishing how writing can change your life in a split second.

Sometimes when you don’t want to utter a single word, you sometimes choose to write it—since you felt that perhaps you can express your feelings through this. That somehow your empty world could be put into momentous words. You can even opt your own world. You can desire who you would want to be. Either the villain or the heroine, the protagonist or the antagonist and the good or the evil. Concisely, you can do everything through writing yet, writing can’t do everything for you. That’s the painful part—when you can’t even exist in the world you have created. Seems like your world will collide whenever you read your work and you just sigh because it’s just there—and you think that it will also end there. Remember your favorite story you have read? Perchance you thought that you are the character there. But when you finished reading so, that is when you felt the feeling of suspense or dissatisfaction. Like writing, for the meantime, you felt the feeling of great happiness not until you finished it. Still, be thankful because it filled the gap of your loneliness.

Writing had known my hideous presence. Believing that one day I’ll wake up and find that I’ve written half of the millennium out of the blue. I am simply dreaming of it but I have no intention of being into fame. When you love what you’re doing you are not expecting something in return. You are contented, indeed. Your passion will always be your best weapon if you know when and how to use it. Am I foolish to fall in love with it?

“I know I don’t have the right to be mad

Thinking it, I turn out to be sad

I accept that you don’t belong to me

But I’m dreaming that somehow, we are meant to be.”

I can build a castle in the sky. My life journal. This is my world.