Waiting

For the meantime, there is nothing else for me to do but wait. I wouldn’t call it laziness or plain procrastination. I hate to call it that way. I’m on a search like a predator for my right and true writing voice. And the best way to do that is searching by not searching.

I will just take my time feeling, seeing, observing, and, yes, waiting for the time when I can finally write everything that I learned. I can afford this since time is still on my side.

There’s no need to rush things up. Right now, what I’m building up is the foundation of the things that I will write. There’s no need to rush and write crappy stories and ride on the bandwagon of what is trendy today in the local literary scene.

Yes, I’m gonna watch the sprouting young creatives force themselves in in the local scene. I will just be content waiting for my rightful time to come.

I’m near of calling myself a writer – the real writer I mean. What I am waiting is what I’m gonna write about and how I’m gonna write it.

One day, I’m gonna wake up and would start pounding on my keyboard and really write.

What I can glimpse at, as of now, of what I would write soon are stories that will uplift and keep the spirit of my readers up; stories that will make them feel no pain but understanding; stories that will make the dust of stars in their veins pumping and make them realize that they are sons of God, precious cargo without doubt.