The Writer in Me

Modified 1-Dec 2004, 5:45pm:

THIS POST SUCKS. I AM NOT A WRITER AT ALL.

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Writing used to be my passion.



I hate that I said "used to be."



When I was at the crossroads of my life, namely while I was deciding on a course to take for college, I weighed all my options. Believe it or not, Math was my first love, my first talent. I was first "discovered" for my potential in Math. I remembered joing the MTAP competition during my earlier grade school years.



By sixth grade, however, winds began to blow in another direction. I suddenly found myself a member of the Young Writer's Club and wanting *desperately* to write for our school paper (in Seton -- but they only allowed high school students then). By the time I entered high school and switched schools (went to St. Paul) -- I felt like a full-pledged writer. I competed in essay writing and poetry writing and joined the English Writing Club. I joined the school paper (Paulinian Link) and started contributing features and literary articles. By the end of high school, I was Literary Editor and I received awards for Campus Journalism and Creative Writing.



I remember in high school, friends often ask for my help when there is a writing assignment. I also remember their feedback everytime a (mushy) piece would get published in a new edition of the school paper. I still believe our literary magazine (Humanae Vitae, SPCP LitMag 2000) is one of the better literary magazines that the Paulinians have seen. These things, among others, reinforced my belief that I am indeed a writer at heart.



And so I took BA Organizational Communication in college. Needless to say it was communication-intensive, both oral and written. I loved loved loved my course.



But now I'm afraid the winds of change are blowing once again... this time, I do not want to follow it. My present job requires minimal creativity, let alone requires minimal writing... and I am afraid that I will eventually kill off the writer in me.



This blog is actually an effort to revive that part of me. I know she's there, somewhere, struggling to be free. But... for now, I have to be practical. To stick with the job until I'm stable enough to move on and find what I really want to do... if I still haven't found it in Maersk.



So, ok... I guess I had to write this piece to convince me that Teng the Writer is still alive and kicking.



So scratch the first statement.



Writing is my passion.