June 19, 2011

  • Writing has always been my personal therapy. I write and write until I'm not sad anymore, until it heals my wounds, and makes me feel better. It's the only place where I don't hold back, and let go of all my emotional turmoil and trouble. Writing gives me comfort when I'm broken, lifts me up when I'm down, and empowers me when I'm weak. While writing can be therapeutic and soothing, it makes me feel vulnerable at the same time- defenseless and exposed.

    Although my writing is often saturated and filled with ambiguity, I can't help but feeling exposed, revealing myself to people, and letting them see the emotional, fragile side of me. My emotions and thoughts are out in the open, disrobed, and helpless. To me, writing is like falling in love, fun and exhilarating, but it also makes you put yourself on the line and wear your heart on your sleeve, leaving you feeling unguarded and unprotected at the mercy of the person you love.

    Metaphor and ambiguity have always been my best friends when it comes to writing, but recently, I wrote about something that's very dear and personal to me in great detail. There were unresolved feelings floating around within myself so I decided to write to sort things through, and put a rest to it. It has gone on long enough. Writing about it was a big leap out of my comfort zone, and it made me feel vulnerable, like I'm bare naked, stripped off my armors, putting myself on a pedestal and subjecting myself to people's critical judgement and assumptions. That made me nervous, almost as if I'm standing in front of a boy, asking him to love me...It was my first time writing about my personal life, and it will also be the last time...My first, my last and my final tribute to losses and broken dreams - a broken relationship.