A story to tell

I cleaned my room last Saturday. It was long overdue that's why it took me the whole afternoon and early evening to finish it. Though the room wasn't that dirty, going through my stuff took a lot of my time. I went through old photos, letters, books, notebooks, etc. It was fun!

Then I chanced upon my old notebook. A precious one, as I wrote my short stories there. I read them one by one, kaya lalo akong ginabi, hehe!

I used to write short stories back in high school. One story I wrote got published in the school paper. It took one long page - that long, yet it was published! It was about rape, injustice, etc., very hot issue back then. And all my teachers praised my work. So it got me to write more often. Not in so much as to get published but to pen all the stories stored in my mind.

I used to think my life was boring. I was a good girl, not into drugs or alcohol, had the perfect bunch of friends, did well in school, etc. No excitement at all. So I would escape into my finely woven fantasy land.

I've created a lot of characters in my mind, each playing different roles, each has a story to tell. I've thought of them all. Good, bad, protagonist, antagonist, young, old, rich, poor, etc. I've seen the world through their eyes, felt what they feel, saw what they see, heard what they hear, etc. They became real to me. I figured I might forget them one day so I painstakingly wrote their stories in that notebook.

In college I stopped writing, primarily because I was swamped with school work. I didn't want to lose my scholarship so I focused on my studies. Yet in my quiet moments, they keep me company. Sometimes, I would allow myself to be drifted back into that fantasy land I've created so long ago to escape my reality. But I know it won't last forever.

Gradually, that fantasy land vanished. Maybe because I've outgrown such childish dreams/thoughts. Or perhaps, I became more interested in real people and their stories. Or, I've finally learned to deal with reality. Whatever the reason was, that land was just a distant memory. Until last Saturday.

The resurrection of the notebook inspired me to write again. This time around, I know it isn't about escaping to another person's life anymore but a yearning to tell a story. Perhaps my story.