The laptop is ready for me to pour my soul out, but it seems like I can’t put my thoughts into words anymore. My hands are shaky… my heart is heavy… I want to cry out of frustration but I can’t!
I wanted to say more but they won’t believe me.
Why would they believe someone who is using a fake account for the sake of her privacy over a pretty girl who’s definitely using her real account? Why would they believe the truth from a person like me?
I didn’t know writing could be traumatizing…
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High school ako nung nahiligan ko ang pag-babasa. It excites me and more importantly, it made me feel safe from myself; from my thoughts… from my messy mind. My hopeless romantic self is already contented by just reading stories.
Nag-simula akong mag-sulat nung hindi ko nagustahan ang ending nang isa sa mga paborito kong manunulat. I have to write it to ease my mind. Of course, I gave credit to the author and the author’s work. Then I started writing poems inspired by a song, or from the movie that I watched, or when there’s a support character that got my attention. Mostly, I write for my peace of mind.
But all the words that I wrote remains in me. No one ever read it… no one was able to read it; I did not let anyone. I don’t know, maybe I’m unsatisfied or I’m just afraid that they might be able to see right through me.
Not until I found this website wherein you can be a writer anonymously. Well, it’s actually up to you if you want to be anonymous or not. In my case, I want to be the-girl-with-a-messy-mind. I uploaded my personal poems and some of my short stories there. Surprisingly, there are people who reads it and somehow likes it. I didn’t bother to promote myself.
Kung sino lang ang maka-diskubre ay sapat na.
I was really glad that there are people who likes my words because I really think I’m so bad at it. I wasn’t aiming for fame. I just want to know if there is someone out there who can appreciate my works and can understand it.
Anyhow, with my small audience, I upload my works with no feeling of fear or pressure. But little did I know that one of the audience will ruin my passion.
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It was summer.
Ang init, pati ulo ko ang daling mag-init. Hindi ako makapagsulat nang maayos dahil puro masasakit na salita na naman ang nagagamit ko. When I opened the website to check my profile, I noticed a message; it was a compliment for my uploads. I was really glad about it because usually people will just leave a comments on my uploads to state their opinion and some will just message me to read theirs.
You said that you like my dark poems and my cliff hanger short stories. You even suggested that I should write long stories. You said that my uploads kept you entertained on your boring summer. Your message made my day.
That summer, we exchanged messages; mostly regarding to my uploads. You asked what’s the meaning behind my poems and why my short stories end that way. I never had someone who is so interested with my uploads, it somehow excites me. I obliged to answer all your questions because I somehow I trusted you. I trusted you since you didn’t hide your identity, so I guessed there’s no harm telling you things. And then we became virtual friends… so I thought.
In the middle of the school year, you asked me a favor. You asked me if you could borrow one of my poems. You needed it to pass one of your subjects desperately. Since I thought of you as a friend, I said yes of course. Friends help each other, right?
Your teacher love the poem. I was glad because a professional loves my poem! But was a bit sad for you got all the credits. Still, I was happy for you because you passed!
