*verdad

for as long as time is aware of it, i have been dreaming, hoping, wishing for a literary achievement. but failure never failed to cross my path as a writer. it has been too long since i have last been recognized for my writing and i feel like my skills in it is slipping into the dreary oblivion.



competitive writing has never been my niche. i only won a competition once and i don't even know if that was really because of my ability or just mere luck. after that, cobwebs covered my writing hand. i know very well that writing should not be regarded as an outlet for selfish indulgences in winning tilts but rather as an outlet for expression. however, we can't deny the fact that being recognized once in a while can serve as a great motivation for anyone. and not being recognized made me feel that i did not belong in the world of literary arts.
last year i entered the sci-math competitions essay writing contest and defeat once again looked me in the eye as if killing every ounce of the passion that i had for words. not being included in the top three made it even worse. this year, when my adviser asked me to join again, i was hesitant to say yes but because i needed the extra grade, i agreed.

the sci-math essay writing contest required me to join the school level first before i could enter the division level. i wasn't worried because the facilitator told us that the top four will advance to the next level and i was sure i would be included. after the school wide contest someone had told me that i won first place, so i was obviously hysterically happy. but when i was called together with the other qualifiers, i learned that the information was false. i was only, officially, fourth. it struck my ego like lightning would strike a helpless tree.

well, at least i can compete in the divisions level. i went to and fro the ST building for the cliniquing; trying so hard to improve my writing but my coach did not seem to like whatever i wrote. as a consequence, the remaining fire for writing i had burning inside me had vanished into thin air. not to mention the anxiety that was attacking me because of my competitors who were really very able opponents. this had finally made me lose hope of qualifying in the top three at all.

the time has come. i walked in the room labelled: essay writing contest. i sat down on one of the dilapidated armchairs and waited for the facilitator. before i took hold of the pen and scribbled on the paper, it conditioned myself that no matter what the results, win or lose, i need to be grateful that i know how to write at all. right then and there, i started writing; keeping in mind that writing does not exist to arouse frustrations but to satisfy intellectual thirsts, vent caged emotions and serve as the medium to impart ideologies.

i wrote and wrote and wrote until i forgot that i was writing.

it was then that i realized that i was thinking too much of winning when writing offers much more marvels than the sensation of worldly triumph. writing brings you to a world wherein anything is possible, where nothing isn't real. and that was what i forgot; that i was born into a world of literary sanctuary, where millions of combinations of words bring life to a writer's soul. and that was when i dubbed myself a true writer.