Sword Pen, Anyone?

(lifted from my friendster blog)

I have a deep fascination in literature but I find it very exasperating not being able to put my thoughts into words at times. I started my blog recently through my husband’s encouragement not to put my aptitude into squander. He stalwartly believed I am bestowed with a gift after reading my innumerable epistles. Big thanks to him for letting me salvage my rusty brain and long lost confidence. Honestly, I didn’t look forward to be applauded in my endeavor but I feel indebted to my unwearied readers who adore my panache. I’ve always been self-effacing whenever people thinks highly of my capabilities. Candidly speaking, it won’t take me so much time to write an article like this if I really had the gift. Having said that, I never fail to remember my high school classmate who never strives to study but when it comes to writing he constantly produces awe-inspiring essays on the spot. I also had a colleague previously who effortlessly turns her thoughts and emotions into brilliant prose and poetry without burning midnight oil. Those for me are the epitome of bona fide gifted writers. In fact, I just discovered more of them in my new found leisure pursuit of reading featured blogs in friendster.

You might think I am playing meek but I will be adamant to say I’m just being ingenuous. Yet no matter how I concede that I don’t have the gift, I outspokenly think I have the potential that requires substantial assiduousness. What made me say so? Modesty aside, I’ve won first places in essay writing competitions during my high school days. Back then, winning is a must therefore I tried hard incessantly so as not to thwart my mentors. I only swayed with the conception that I can be a nascent commentator when I garnered second place in an editorial writing contest in a Press Conference attended by private and public schools in my province. I was telling my fellow contender that I didn’t give my best as I bluntly wrote down whatever came into my mind about our subject (Marcos Regime) when out of the blue my name was called to receive the award. It was utterly unexpected that my exaggeratedly active lachrymal glands made me whimper.

I was then obliged to partake in Regional Press Conference which exposed me into a broader perspective of journalism. I was overly motivated to write more often to the extent that when I feel terrible for doing ghastly things, I’d write to my mom saying I was remorseful and I ought to be chastised. Being branded as the mischievous brat in the family, my mom thought that was silly of me. It can’t be helped as it became my (bad) habit. Each time I don’t have the nerves to say something in person I’d write a letter as an alternative.

At a snail’s pace, my penchant for writing brought me sweet conquest as I was able to touched people’s hearts through my unassuming compositions. I’ve never seen my dad shedding tears until I delivered my high school graduation address which I wrote myself. I implored my adviser I’d rather write my own than frantically memorize a piece written by a connoisseur that may even trigger my stage fright. It took me several days to finalize but it was worth every drop of tears that flowed in my listeners eyes. It was one of the most unforgettable days of my life. I painted warmhearted reminiscence for my spectators that landed me to be invited as guest speaker in my beloved alma mater in elementary six years later. I decided to use English-Tagalog-Ibanag in my speech giving a special consideration to my audience. I was commended for keeping my feet on the ground and was told that if my dad is still alive, he will be very proud of me. Evading a heartrending recollection, I clandestinely thanked my mom for passing me her proclivity in writing.

To my treasured faithful readers, please accept my gratitude for believing in me. I owe you every crumb of my triumph. I wasn’t born to be a writer with all certainty but I yearn to continue writing every now and then (as long as time allows me to) not to brag about myself but to inspire, touch, — and sanguinely move people’s lives.


  1. pssstttt teary eyed here, you are so humble and I "heart," you more for that..sigh...

  2. i am sure your dad is very proud of you Che, as we do too :) keep on inspiring and touching people's lives through your words