“Value solitude greatly for everything that pondering can unearth, out of the piles of thoughts of the human mind, and out of those feelings scattering on the floors of the heart. Do drink to the pleasures of hearing out the beats and voices of other souls who are looking at the same sky: in discourse we do not only exchange ideas, we become either foes or allies at finding the rightful place to take our stand and fight.”
For the past two years, writing was more than just a passion for me–it has been my life. It is what I have always liked to do, but it was also something I always had to do. Being a bummer I have all the time in the world to muse, so excuse that this blog is filled with my blabbers.
When other people ask me what I do for a living, I am wonted to say that I am a call center agent, which is true enough if to look at where I get a monthly salary out of spending eight hours of my every weekday/night and somehow it pays the bills. But I am the kind of person who has a life outside of work.
And of people who are my own, they need not ask the same question–they know the truth out of the wasted pens the garbage picker always finds on my bin and the stockpile of paper filled with many scribbles (which are mostly illegible to curious eyes) on top and underneath my desk; if not, by the time I spend keying-in words on the computer. Despite that I have more than enough work in supervising the account assigned to me, I would always find time to write and write.
At home, music is my father’s greatest interest, and my mother’s, mathematics. The eldest sister will pay you attention if you are speaking, thinking, and having food. The elder brother loves communal events and the outdoors while the younger of him is hooked to computers and science books, but they agree on soccer, table tennis, basketball, and chess. Altogether, everyone in the family supports me in my writing endeavors. The last child born next to me after a decade, I fondly call “Shadow” for always wanting to be almost everywhere I go (but she is actually the more sociable and I am the more recluse of us two so when we are together she usually speaks before I do so I am like her echo or alterego).
From high school, I belonged to a large circle of friends, and not everyone of us are deeply interested in letters and words. Others have a passion for fashion, others in music or arts, and still others of miscellaneous sorts. Nonetheless, I have never ran out of support from them. They always poured it as necessary, I never felt I wanted of any. It filled me with enough confidence to pursue writing in college. It was there where I first found delight in community with people of similar interest.
In my present company, I first worked as a writer. I did have a writing partner and there were also other writers like us in the office, but the environment was not much of help–I was back to being a lonesome writer no sooner than about a month. Then there were changes that had to be made. I was given the task of overseeing an account and occasionally, I was on the phone. Later, I had to give up writing tasks.
Then, not long ago, some work colleagues and I became a team, and we did work together as writers. For work, we wrote technical and field-specific articles: far from the thoughts of my midnight musings and the style is also more formal than what you would usually find on this blog. I do get paid for my writing services, and my earnings out of those endeavors are what can be called pin money, which supports my lifestyle quirks and largely funds my food trips, art ramblings, and pilgrimages. The feeling was different this time, for before we worked together, we were already friends. We also keep our own blogs , but still our main interests vary largely. One writes about sports, the other music, and I was more inclined to write of literature and philosophy.
I seek the community of people who do have the same interests as me–not a mere sameness of activity, but a cosmic oneness–yes that same force that keeps the world together in the midst of life’s complexities and diversity. I do not know how else it can be described, but that is it for me. Soon as this realization hit me, it was then that I began to explore the world again and dare to stand before others to communicate, learn, and share with others who are on the same road and are moving towards the same destination. This is how I continue to live, and of more that I will be experiencing ahead of the road, I hope to affirm my existence.
I will travel and I will read and I will listen and I will discourse and I will write as much as I can.
Read more: Musings of the Midnight Writer: Sharpening the Pencil
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