In college, I was constantly obligated to submit
reaction-slash-reflection papers for my speech and theater classes:
double-spaced, one inch border on all sides, Times New Roman, 12 pt, with a
minimum of 500 words. We were graded for expressing our honest opinions whether
they were right or wrong. How great was it that we were free to narrate the feelings
we had when we watched a play or a movie? I did not fully appreciate the fact
that we were required to rant and be praised just for our very detailed way of
ranting.
Being part of the corporate world for a year and a half
already, my creative juices have greatly depleted. I lost my passion to write
because I saw no point in pursuing this hobby. What was the use of being artistic
when we already use templates for e-mails every day? This all changed a week
before when I met with my high school friends.
My former classmate thought of bringing out our high school
yearbook. He read the article I wrote about our class and I do not remember
forming the sentences he spoke. I was amazed—not because the article was so ingenious,
but because it brought back so many memories that were not captured by videos
or photographs. The power of the words I put into paper was exhilarating. I
could not have imagined that the paragraphs I wrote when I was fifteen can somehow
affect me six years later. Who would have thought that being able to document
the way we played shagidi shagidi shapopo
and ping pang pong would come in
handy in the future?
We all have the capacity and liberty to write and yet we
underappreciate this opportunity. I have decided to write again without the
help of templates but with thoughts—honest and unadulterated judgments that I
can read decades from now and will probably disagree with. I can create a time
capsule without needing to bury anything tangible. I will write again not
because I am mandated to do so and not because I want to earn from this blog
(although who am I to say no to cash). I am writing because I wish to look back
and remember how the way the 21-year-old version of me thinks. I want to be quoted and
be able to surprise myself one day. All I need are words—powerful, influential
words that can stir a memory.
I am still getting my muddled brain to get rid of all the
cobwebs and rust. This post is far from creative but, hey, look at that! This
post is at least 500 words long and did not include any e-mail template. How’s
that for getting back on track? J
Let me end this post with quotes from one of my favorite books, The Spectacular Now by Tim Tharp, from which I got the new title for my blog:
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