WHEN WITS DIVERGE

Besides a hard-thought subject matter and title, I'm always miffed with one more ordeal each time I rest my two hands on the keyboard to start writing --- how to say what I'm thinking. Should it be in Filipino or English? Should it be in prose or poem? Should it be free-versed or structured? And most of the time, before I could even decide, all ideas just slowly leak off my fissured brain. Having to choose carefully sometimes defeats the purpose. 

Perhaps that was what stalled me from doing this thing less frequently back then. I have always thought of what others will think of what I do. But you know what they say, "Not one size fits all" or the simpler "You can't please everybody"? This for me is the perfect embodiment. I compromise form when I say ideas in straight lines, but I sacrifice comprehension when I conceal thoughts in poetic images. The minute I decide to choose how to say something at a certain point, that's also the minute I decide to let go of the possibility to be understood in some way. And that, I believe, is also where misinterpretation hails from. 

Coming up with one post daily for the past month has been both an appealing and appalling encounter. To be honest, I've never been subjected to a tug-of-war of comfort and discomfort at the same time. It's like letting your arm suffocate in a tourniquet, though you know this uncomfortable tightness will save the rest of your appendage. My essays were trash, and my poem-drafts were crap. But when I see even a single page view in my stats, there's a baffling sense of optimism that crops up within me to deem that there will always be someone who will listen, even just a single soul. I know I'm being heard --- and that's enough for me to carry on.

There's not one formula to doing what we want to achieve, so I suggest we all keep on trying. The fear of being misunderstood? Don't even bother. And do away with thinking and containing yourself to what other people will think because there's just so much to learn and discover. Whether you choose to be heard through a prose or a poem, it wouldn't even matter. Your very own message is all there is to it. And when it's heartfelt, everything else will ensue. #

photo credit: The Saunderton Split