My Love for Writing

I discovered my love for writing by accident. I didn't know that I wanted to write. Back then I thought I just wanted to read good books. I began writing when I was in high school. We were asked to compile plays, poems, essays etc.  There were no public libraries then, and no computer or internet yet. At least commercially. It was in the late 80s (Commercial internet such as world wide web became available in 1991). And so research was a little difficult.  I had to find poems and plays and short stories with limited books I could find. And then a thought came to me.  The teacher didn't say that it has to be written by a famous author. And since I want to finish my project right away, I began writing my own poems and essays. And that's how it started. Having found a new "talent", I joined essay writing contest, speech writing contest etc.

I was a writer and editor of my high school newsletter. And I was tasked to write our class prophecy by my English teacher, for our last issue of the newsletter before we graduate from high school. I asked all my classmates what they want to be in the future. I listed them down and wrote a story about us meeting many years later, fulfilling our dreams.  (Sigh) I wish I still have a copy of that prophecy. So I can read it again. And smile while doing so. I have lost touched with some of my classmates, and I have no idea if they became what we "prophesied". But I'm pretty sure I wasn't what I wanted to be 26 years ago.  In that prophecy, I was a famous international writer, going back home for a class reunion and meeting all my former classmates.

I set aside my dream of being a writer during college. When you are loaded with science subjects left and right, you don't have time to just relax and think of stuff to write. Once, I wrote an essay, and asked some classmates to read it and make comments. Poor them.  Probably couldn't say no to me. Hahaha. But that's about it. Unless you count my thesis. Lol.

Now you would wonder why I didn't take up Creative Writing. Or Journalism. Or any degree to make me a professional writer. Honestly, I don't know why I didn't. I didn't want to be a journalist, that's for sure. And I'm not so good at  writing fiction. I just want to write stuffs I like, things I experience, facts I know.

Then I got a busy with my job. Which I enjoyed at that time. And now I realized why. Because eventhough it was on veterinary field, part of my job was writing. I wrote letters, presentations, product labels and fliers. But its not the same thing. Im still not a writer. And since I was enjoying my job, I forgot my dream of being one. But I would write poems here and there. Mostly intended for people I wanted to say something to. Words would come to me running. And I had to write them down right away, even in the middle of the night. So I won't forget them. I usually write poems about something I feel at that moment. Something I want to express to the person I want to give it to. And then words would come. I kept some poems. Some are lost.  Some posted on Facebook.

But it was not enough. Part of me wanted more than just writing poems. The ultimate dream of somebody like me is to be able to publish a book. But I know that's not within reach. For now? But I have to write something. Just something. I have seen a lot of celebrities who has their own website, where they write their own blogs. I wanted to have one. And so when my cousin mentioned to me about blogspot, I was so excited. I couldn't help myself. I couldn't wait to go home and write a blog. It's like I'm finally doing what I really want to do. I'm finally going to have my own blog. I could write endlesssly. My mind was spinning, different topics popping left and right. I had to calm down and decide what I want to write first. And since blogspot approved my blogname as cristinakitchen, I thought I should write about food. That's why my first blog is about bento lunches. Which is one of the things that keeps me busy these days.

Up to now, I'm always excited about writing blogs. The joy of publishing it. But this doesn't end here. Who knows what's in store for me? I can only hope. And dream.  For dreaming is free. And limitless. But for now, I can't express how happy I am for being able to write blogs. And share it to everyone.