Long time no see, readers! Its been a wild ride this summer. I've found myself in various places and came to know many faces. I was travelling around Italy for a time and because there's so many details that I want to remember, I kept jotting them down in my personal journal, every night, every break, every train ride that I can. As a personal challenge, I don't re-read anything that I write in my journal. I let my emotions take control and proof-reading would make it unoriginal.
Nights ago, however, I broke my promise and decided to read some of the previous pages- not all- but some as far as March or April of this year. It's quite fascinating, really. Not my life- but fascinating to experience my emotions a second time through my own words. Of course, there are a lot of spelling errors, some grammar mistakes, some lipstick stains here and there- a tiny smudge of eyeliner that probably got there by my clumsiness. But overall, there was something deeper than I found in these smudged pages. And this was it:
We are never the same person twice. We are constantly changing from the person we think we are, and the person we ought to be, to the person we really are. Each day introduces a new word, a new emotion, a new face, a new book, a new friend, or even a new dream. These written journals were different everyday. Sitting here, reading my own life's story through my own words- wait, not my words, but the words of the person I was that day- can make one think he's being deceived. There is so much to dig for in between the lines. But I know better than to dig up in my own dirt.
Writing gives you the power to create a reality you want your readers to become acquainted with and then believe solely in. (Even if the reader is your future self.) Whoever I was on May 15th, knew that the Cindy I'd be today, wouldn't care about the little negatives; I'd only want to remember the achievements and the things that made my heart smile that day. I look at the last couple pages of my oh-so-beautiful handwriting and realize that there is an unchanging subject within these inked sheets. Reading words that almost seem foreign to me, I note that there is constant emotion through the curves of each letter, a sigh in every dotted 'i' and a name- a name that seems too familiar, even now. I skim through the words and see his name, a place, a time, a feeling, a question, and then it ends with a promising line...a lingering hope for tomorrow. Tomorrow was always written anew.
Tomorrow is a word heavy with hope itself. But we hope that there exists a Tomorrow and we beam at the thought that Tomorrow will be Today's better half. We focus so much on the coming twenty four hours when sometimes the answer likes within the present. Whatever happened to making Today count? We have all these blank pages, so why don't we fill them up with happy memories- happy words, happy phrases- happy stories. Don't we want to look back at our lives and smile at the good things that happened to us? Don't we want to re-read our life stories the way we re-read our favorite novels and say, "Sh*t, that was a good book."
I will write every day until I can't no more.And I will carry hope with me, small enough to fit my pocket but big enough to share with others. I will always look forward to having my fingers smell of ink and have paper cuts here and there because it gives me hope; hope that my story will always have the good pages after the bad, sad ones; hope that one day my great grandchildren can read my life and use it to meditate and live theirs.
Every good book has its tears and smiles- and always hope. Hope makes everything beautiful. It makes one sleep at night. I visited Juliet's house in Verona during my trip and Hope was all around me. Girls kept leaving notes for Juliet and couples swore their undying love for each other under Juliet's famous balcony. They all wore it; hope for finding true love, hope for staying in love.
To end this post, I'll quote a book that I'm reading and came across just a few hours ago- literally. It goes like this "Please always remember, the secret of survival is to embrace change, and to adapt. You see, you cannot draw lines and compartments, and refuse to budge beyond them. You have to maintain a fine balance between hope and despair."