Eight years is a long time. It’s a commitment. To say that this amount of time has flown by would be inaccurate. To be honest, my writing has gone through so many transitions and I know it’s not over yet. Eight years ago, I started this blog. I remember not knowing what to write about or how to say things or who would read it. Unbeknownst to my past self, this blog would prove to be very valuable to me and it has very little to do with those concerns. I have gained insight on how things are.
Even before I push the “publish” button, there are steps in the background that I cherish so much. There have been countless times in which I get up really early or stay up realllly late and feel inspired to write poetry (or at least what I consider poetry). Or just take photographs. In recent years, I started my interviewing series and it’s been so enlightening to research various fields and learn about the journeys all these people have gone through. People have always been interesting to me. Maybe I’m trying to piece together meaning. Maybe I write just because I feel like it.
I remember hearing about how a friend of mine had passed away from an illness I never knew he had. Writing was my way to have closure. To make him real and his last words last. I guess that’s where I want to be now; to write & create authentically and honestly. To be human.