Someone new asked me something I haven’t had to answer for a while, “So what makes you a writer?”
With the demand to impress while barely out of wakening stupor, I replied as much as my creative juices could manage.
Words drawn from thin air are the cloth and my brain is my sewing machine. With inspiration as the thread, I end up with decent enough stories to tell through strings of letters people could read.
And I should’ve stopped there but silly me went on and added an alternative retort:
So i write. Because I write, I’m a writer. Verb to noun relationship: I’m the doer of the action. lol
Not my finest.
I was feeling nostalgic about this website out of nowhere so I began reading and backing up my composition in an email thread. It was then that I realized the reason for my mood. Apparently this blog was born 5 years ago exactly (yesterday lol).
So many things have happened since then. The nature of the content here changed a few times reflecting such events. I keep going back to this blog just to get that sense of things from way back. That’s the beautiful nature of web logs, I guess. And I’m very thankful that wordpress is still around.
This one’s another yearmark. I miss writing here. Maybe I’ll pick this up again.
How do you measure the distance
between two hearts?
Is it time apart or silence’ depth,
The count of arguments,
The weight of doubts.
And the when
Is it not the very question itself
That marks the beginning
of yet another end.
Kin by pact forged by fate,
souls of all walks,
together treading along
the same uncertain path.
Brotherhood of friendships
found, lost, and recovered;
unlikely and yet a perfect fit,
pieces of a puzzle board.
Spokes of Fortune’s wheel.
What is luck but one’s attraction to the meaning whispered by the world.
Is it not just hearing, pointing, and connecting dots in the air? As two things are bridged by circumstance, you, nothing more than the innocent bystander, notice that you are standing in the middle of it. Vaguely with the realization of a concept that eludes those without, you are simply present and nothing more.
Merely the luck that defies the typical are loud enough to be heard by those around and are called out to attention.
This is luck, in its simplest nature.
The Daily Post
Third From the Top
The third post in my Reader is Thought Catalog’s “8 Ways You Make Life Harder Than It Should Be“. The third sentence is about a concept in personality psychology called ‘internal locus of control’ which could be related to Willliam Ernest Henley’s words: “I am the master of my fate.” The brief definition of the jargon reminded me of the movie Lars and the Real Girl.
The underlying theme as presented by the trailer of the 2007 comedy-drama is fairly intriguing. 27-year-old Lars Lindstrom, whose personality is bordering anti-social, starts suffering from a delusion – he introduces an “anatomically correct”, life-size doll to his brother and sister-in-law as his girlfriend. Seeing this as an opportunity to open up the Lars’ cloistered self, a psychologist urges the concerned couple to go along with his condition. Soon the entire town is let in on a community-wide effort to tolerate, and eventually, accept their strange visitor.
The movie depicts the ability of a person to bring about change in his life through unexpected and often misunderstood means. Even with his altered perception, the protagonist slowly wrestles issues about his past through the unexpected help of everyone around him.
As explained in the introductory paragraph of the referenced link, the counterpart of the internal locus of control is the external locus. For me, the movie that first comes to mind for this concept is the 2006 comedy-drama-fantasy film Stranger than Fiction.