why do we write? i feel i haven't really exhausted the answers to this question; and perhaps, never will. its a recurring question in my mind that presents itself even in the most unlikely of situations.
i was at des' wake last night. having arrived rather late (pasay to araneta avenue wasn't exactly like going to your neighbor for a late-night chit-chat; and buboy was already thanking the friends and colleagues in attendance) i chose to stay on the sidelines; i was supposed to give a message as one of her friends, as the institute contacted me earlier in the day. with no one to represent her circle--everyone they had contacted will come from far-flung places, father than my pasay, i felt i had to do it even though i feel i am not worthy to be in the position to be doing such an honor. with people slowly trickling out of the venue, i was among the few who stayed awhile to be with des. among the batchmates i saw was jo-anne. she was there at the start of the necrological service and told me bits and pieces of what happened leading to des' demise. i told her i never thought this whole batch reunion thingie would happen in an occassion such as this. and what an occassion indeed.
having said my prayers and condolences to des' family, jo and gentle ate dinner at a nearby chowking. she had so many stories about our batchmates--where they are now, and what some of us are up to these days. i felt i don't have much to say, not in the safe and pleasant category, anyway. so i elected to be the listener. way deep into our dinner she asked, " so what are you doing these days? " harmless little question it seems. i answered, "i'm into blogging." she replied, "well isn't that kinda throwing open your life for the public to pick on?" i answered, "well not if you go by another name." that whole conversation led me to this present pondering.
why do we write? writing releases pent up emotions. it makes you at peace with yourself and the world. yet again, it could be because, as one blogger-reader have put it.. we write because we are unable to remain silent... or something like that; and my mind is never silent. i feel i still have so much to say. but just the same, i feel i've ran out of energy to do so for now. so they are there.. ideas rambling inside my head waiting for yet again another momentum. another spark of inspiration.
and so on this, the 60th post, the green backseat ends its first season. thank you all for sharing a bit of your gentleness on this site. feel free to visit http://gentlepoems.blogspot.com/ for your poetry needs hehehe. stay tuned for season two. when? when this weary, gentle soul felt the urge again to do so. and that could be tomorrow. or.. i dunno.