Writing and Me

Once again I’m being attacked by that thing called “psychological feeling of inadequacy”. F. Landa Jocano paired it with "disorientation" in describing us Filipinos, I think.

The disorientation half hasn’t caught up with me yet which is a good thing. The last time the two ganged up on me, it cost me two years in oblivion thus explaining some of the many wired reasons for my two-year hiatus from college.

I’ve been feeling so inept lately that I was seriously contemplating on shutting down my blog—my blog which I swore to maintain and nurture since December last year. That’s almost nine months of leisurely time spent online. I’m tempted to give it up because I strongly feel that I have no future at this writing thing. That writing is a gift I am simply forcing upon myself.

Bottomline: I feel that I suck at writing.

An insecurity which isn’t at all handy especially now that I’m teaching kids to write.

It helps that I lost the Wika2007 contest (Such sore loser, am I?). Then there’s the fact that I haven’t posted any decent universal piece (an article that doesn’t revolve around me, thus its supposed universal appeal) since, I-don’t-know-when. Plus, my inability to publish one of my works in any piece of paper that circulates bugs me.

Not that I am demanding that I be glorified. The thing is, I just want a special distinction that’ll let me know that I make sense and that I can, in fact, write.

I was about to boycott writing all together which wouldn’t be hard since I’m experiencing writer’s constipation anyway. But see? I’m writing again.

I worry that if I don’t, I’d be disoriented. I wouldn’t know what else to do. Eventually, I’d be lost again.

Right now I can’t think of a brilliant alternative to writing. I fear the day will come when someone, something or an event will confirm my fear—the time when I’d be slapped on the face with the “truth” that, despite my efforts, I do not have a place in the writing niche.

God, that will surely hurt!