what makes us

last night, i was chatting with koo about.. well, about something personal.

she felt that whatever she was doing (on not doing) wasn't enough. so i told her to write. my exact words were "WRITE. because that's what were made of. WORDS make us."

it is amazing how i get poetic in times like these (well, times when i am into the conversation, i guess, is what i mean). but I'm actually writing this blog post to correct myself. this morning as i checked my twitter account, i found that koo tweeted these words to her followers and if somehow, her followers get to see that and believe that, i want to correct myself.

we are not made of words. we are not made up of JUST words. we are words and memories. things that happened, things that we remember, things we wish not to remember. that's us. and how we string them together as words, how we relate to other people how it happened, how we wish it would've happened, or in the worst cases, how we wish it didn't happen.

we are a body of words and memories.

unfortunately, those words and memories are not always happy ones that we fondly recall or write. sometimes they are sprinkled with pain and dashed with tears.

but i will still say write. write even if no one is reading. write even if the grammar is wrong or the syntax is incorrect, even if no one else understands what you want to say but yourself. write. and when you're done, write some more.

write until the ink from your pen has cried the tears that your body refuse to dispel, until you get carpal tunnel from typing all day long at the computer. until your vision is blurry from staring at the monitor so long. write until you cannot anymore. then write some more. record your thoughts, speak into a recorder, have someone write for you. write. because really that's what we're made of, that is what memories and words make us - writers. (or in my case, wannabe writer)

so write.

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