Miah Learns to Write

Photo by Anna Kolosyuk on Unsplash Finding the right way to end things is very tough. I think that’s why many stories are criticized across all media. Before I go on, when I say ending, I refer to it as the part starting from the climax until the resolution of the story. For example, in Titanic, I would consider the ending from the time Jack died until the end of the movie. There are some beautifully executed endings like Of Mice and Men or Breaking Bad. What makes them brilliant I think would be the impact it left on me. The stories themselves were remarkably written. And being able to end it the way they did was the cherry on top. I think being able to stay true to what the narrative is saying allowed these stories to end beautifully. The writers didn’t compromise. Based on the events that have happened and the journey of the characters, the writers were able to bring about the narrative to its logical conclusion. You would think that if the story was well-written from the

Photo by Calum MacAulay on Unsplash My friend has this mannerism. Whenever we chat especially about profound things, she would pause and tell me, “I’m trying to construct the right sentence.” She does this in order to express her thoughts as clearly as possible. It’s a running joke between us to just express ourselves through dance or movement. However I found that I’m afflicted with the same syntactic bug. I just don’t blurt it out loud. What It's Like But this is how it’s like. You can picture something perfectly in your mind but when you put it to paper or write it down, it ends up falling short of your expectations. I have found this to be the case when I try to write stories. When I try to picture a scene, it plays out beautifully. In my mind, I know what’s going to happen. I can see the details but once I try to write it down, it’s like I’m blanking out. The feeling is similar to when you are having stage fright. You’ve practiced your lines and blocking countless

Photo by Alex Grodkiewicz on Unsplash There’s always a constant nagging feeling inside me that my writing is never good enough and it irks me. Sure, I am a perfectionist. That tendency is innate. But I think writers experience this in varying degrees. From an obsession with perfect grammar to the need for a logical flow in the narrative to having symmetry in form. I would go so far to say that this need for perfection goes beyond the realm of art and literature. Perfection is something that we all long to achieve I think. Not just as writers or artists, but as human beings. I think that is pretty much rooted in our history and identity as humanity. The Root The Bible tells us the story of creation and how God made all things good. When He made man, both male and female, He regarded them as very good. In a nutshell, I think the fact that man was made to be in constant fellowship with God is the reason why we have this deep desire for perfection. And the moment man was separa

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash My biggest weakness is generating ideas. But it’s not just about coming up with something. Rather, it’s about coming up with something relevant, unique, or something that is very important to you. My Situation Ideas don’t naturally come to me. Sometimes, an idea pops up out of the blue as I travel. There are times when my mind is just drifting and I get an idea for an article to write. Other times, ideas are triggered while I’m watching a movie or a series. However, when I feel super inspired, ideas would just keep flowing one after the other. As if there are no shortages of ideas, so I just keep writing them down. Essentially, I’m faced with two problems. One, no ideas are springing to mind a.k.a. writer’s block. And two, there are too many ideas popping up. I can’t readily pluck ideas from a tree. In my case, I come up with ideas at random. So I often need to take note of them so that I don’t forget. I also need ample time to really ponde

Photo by LinkedIn Sales Navigator on Unsplash I have also been self-conscious about sharing my work with others. Fear of criticism is also one big issue that I face as a writer. The thing is, during the editing phase, you feel like you’ve already criticized your work. The thought of others criticizing your work would just make you feel more worthless. And that’s a depressing thought. But if you go to someone whom you trust completely and who only thinks of what’s best for you, I think it would be less of a burden. What good is it? Letting others read your work allows you to see it from a different perspective. You can gauge how your work affects or impacts other people through their response. That could help give you a direction on what to write or how to write it. It also allows for an exchange of viewpoints and ideas. This is probably a good idea to do when you’re editing your work. Getting a second opinion or a fresh perspective on the topic would allow you to make more

Photo by annekarakash on Pixabay When I started blogging, I just wrote stuff that came to mind. I didn’t pay any heed to whether the ideas were coherent or not. It didn’t matter to me whether the paragraphs were too long or whether the words were too big. I was probably breaking a cardinal rule of writing which is to always edit what you write. You won’t get an article, a story, or any piece of writing right the first time. It’s a process of laying out your ideas, straightening them out, and polishing them. You do this until you’ve exhausted all possible ways to make it better. There are a few editing mistakes that I’ve done besides neglecting editing. This all depends on your mindset when looking at your work. One: “There are too many flaws in my work. Or for that matter, the whole thing is flawed. It’s one big mistake. So I should just scrap the whole thing.” This is the wrong mindset. I know I shouldn’t focus on every mistake I make. Technically that’s what makes us huma

Photo by Mikito Tateisi on Unsplash As I mentioned, I have been blogging since 2011. But I have been writing even before that time. I was editor-in-chief of our school paper in grade school. While I also became a feature writer for the Filipino publication in high school. The problems I faced back then are still the same today. I don’t know if other writers experience the same thing. But I would like to share with you my experiences with writing and how difficult it really is. Getting started on writing Everybody procrastinates in one way or another. When we put something off for a later time even if we can do it now, we procrastinate. I don’t think procrastination in itself is a bad thing. It could be viewed as conditioning oneself to be in the right frame of mind to tackle whatever task they need to do. That requires time to prepare. Procrastination becomes an issue if it takes too long for you to warm up. Then you find yourself pressed for time. If you have deadlines,

From: Thought Catalog Continued from Missed Chances Him: My heart sank, those words fell like drops of rain They rang through my ears, echoing, echoing What did she mean by that? Moved on? How? I spent many years out in the world Trying to get better so I can be the one Who would be deserving of her affection When I left her, I had nothing to my name All I had was the shirt on my back I had nothing to give her but my heart But my love would not have been enough Sweet words, a gentle touch, side by side We would have died with nothing I wanted to give her the best things in life Enough, at least, to sustain us especially When the times comes to start a family So I climbed and clawed and conquered every mountain My desire to be with her fueled my spirit And the next time I see her again, I can be the one Now I can give her the life that she deserved But she rejected it. I was so baffled and torn All those years I spent apart from her Moments that I coul

Photo by Alex Blăjan on Unsplash His POV: I have traveled far and wide looking for her She was the light that shines in the morning Now, my days would be bright once again When I had nothing, she was my everything Now, I have everything but I feel lacking My heart longs to be by her side, beating next to her Serendipity, that's what brought me to her I had lost hope of ever finding her again Until I caught a glimpse of something peculiar I blinked my eyes, I wasn't mistaken, it was her I tried to come up to her but I didn't know what to say I panicked, I turned around and walked the other way My heart was pounding, leaping in my chest I decided to wait for the right moment to meet her And finally spend the rest of my life with her Days passed and I stood on the corner of the street Same time each day, waiting to see her again But she didn't come, and I started doubting Did I really see her or was it just an illusion? Was my mind playing

I give you all I am For You gave me all of You You showered me with endless grace And now I give You endless praise You bore my sin and shame Took my guilt, took the blame And I received Your perfect righteousness Your great love overflows my heart You humbled Yourself, broken for me Died the death that I deserved That I may be made whole And live my life to the full You sacrificed Yourself to pay my debt To reconcile me to Yourself, I am eternally blessed You bowed Your head and took the crown of thorns That You may bestow on me the crown of life and righteousness There is no greater love than this, no greater honor Than to be called Your friend Let every breath and strength that I have All my inmost being, praise the Lord God Almighty I can but give my whole life to You For everything that I have, You have graciously given I bow my heart before You, O Lord I offer my life to You, I surrender my all to You No words would be enough to express the

I'd like to think that you traveled to the stars Like the little princes of our lives So that we can hear your laughter again Somewhere in the night Among the host of an infinite number of stars. Or maybe you're like the heart of the ocean Thrown into the abyss after years of searching And that you found company in the throng Of the ocean deep, lying on the seabed With all kinds of crustaceans and anemones Buried in the sand like a treasure waiting To be discovered only by those Whose determination outlasts their lifetime. I'd like to hope that by some slim chance Your life has not yet ended or that, If it had, it wasn't by one swift blow Rather, we hope that, if you are now gone, You did not go gentle into that solemn night With throes of unrelenting, die hard courage And a tenacious idealism and resolve To rid this world of its ills Until your final moment has struck. Come back to us even as ghosts of the past Visiting with memories that w

Every night she flipped through photos Of smiling faces and joyous laughter She looked at them with a smile on her face With wrinkles growing on her forehead And a tear falling down her cheek. Her hands have grown creased Through years of rummaging in every nook and cranny, Her eyes blurred, tired of seeing strange faces But her spirit still confident in the vague chance That she might find what she was looking for. Every night she would put down the album Lie down on her bed and start to sob Unable to bring herself to sleep She would get out of bed and prostrate herself Before God to plead her case before Him. "Why must I suffer the torment of not knowing Of not being near the one I love? Why must I be distant from them and Why must they be stripped from me?" She has asked the same question Every night for twenty agonizing years. She would rather see a body or a hand Or even just a semblance of what she had lost Just so she can receive an absolu

Flashes and images, sights and sounds, a breeze through my skin I sit here on the porch of my house, gazing idly at the horizon I look at the sunset and wonder how many I've seen in my lifetime It never gets old, its beauty continues to mesmerize me, it's surreal, It only grows on you all the more, and the more I experience it My heart swells up with appreciation and awe for this lovely gift And how I wish I could take this moment with me forever I was on a boat once traveling to a new world, to a new life And every night, I looked at the stars, and I wondered How beautiful they were, though they may be too far to reach, They kept me company until I met a fellow admirer whose Sentimentality equaled mine. We talked and we laughed. There were nights when we just walked on the deck Sharing stories about our adventures and even some Awkward silences. The stars didn't seem too distant after all. Then we went up into the air on a hot air balloon. We passed Ov

I don't know what it is about airplanes But whenever I look up at the sky and see one It makes me giddy and touches a soft spot in my heart As if I am transported back to a time When the world was full of wonder and I can't wait To go out and explore and see many different things Whenever I see an airplane, flashes of adventure Of places that I can only imagine flood my mind I become like a child once more Who looks up at the sky and bursts out in joy Then I feel a sense of longing To go back into that time when everything was new I don't know what it is about airplanes Imagining what it feels like to soar up in the sky To be free to go wherever you please It takes me back into the past and into tomorrow And I become like a child once more Waving off, imagining where it has been and where it will go *** To give a bit of a backstory for this poem, I have been thinking of writing a poem about airplanes for quite some time because I feel a sense of no

I want to wake up and not worry About how much time I have left To study for my exam Or about my paper due at 11:59 pm I want to wake up and not worry About what to do with my life And just start living it Enjoying every moment under the sun I want to wake up and not worry About where God will take me tomorrow Whether to the heights or to the depths If that's where I'm meant to be If that's where my purpose lies I'll take that bold leap But at times I wake up and feel down Bogged by the worries and fears of not knowing, Of forgetting where I was or where I want to go, Of the uncertainties of who I am or who I want to be Then I close my eyes to think for a while And remind myself about what's important To draw strength and guidance from God above Bringing back my focus to the source of all things Extending gratitude and praise to Him Who wakes me up in the first place Yes, I want to wake up and feel alive To take a step back, breathe

Don't you find it weird That we try to remember things That we have already forgotten? What satisfaction can we get In getting back the things we lost Especially when we were the reason Why it became lost in the first place? We find solace in forgetting Because memories are supposed to keep Those bonds that we have forged In the most unexpected times At the most unexpected places With the most unexpected people Memories are treasures from those Whom we have shared a piece of ourselves And in whom we have entrusted to protect But when they are gone so is the memory What use would it be to keep it? We would only be hurting ourselves But to be completely whole We must first be broken To become strong to face the future We must feel the pain of the past We don't forget what happened We don't let go of their memory But we move forward Letting go of the fact that they're gone But holding on to the reality That they were here And became a part

I struggled to lift my hand To look at my watch I can feel someone's breath It's warm but indifferent I have so many things to do So many deadlines to catch up on I can't waste a moment But I'm stuck here I squeezed myself through a sea of people To find a spot where I can freely breathe I found a small space where I can move a bit I breathed out a sigh of relief But quickly discovered that there was a leak I rolled my eyes but only within Mentally scolded myself for this decision I should have taken the quicker ride home But I'm stuck here I closed my eyes to think of a place Where I hear only the sounds of nature The rushing waters of a river The sweet melody of birds in love The hushed rustling of the leaves And the smell of fresh air in my nostrils But I couldn't, my mind started racing I need to write my report due on Friday Attend a study group for my exam on Monday Deliver a parcel on Wednesday Do the groceries on Thursday

Many think it's easier to believe That God exists but I believe That it's harder to believe That God exists and that It's easier to believe that He doesn't Because then things don't have to make sense But because God exists And He is omnipotent, omniscient, Omnipresent, infinitely wise, eternal; He is sovereign, just, righteous, and holy; Because He is perfect in every way And at the same time, loving, gracious, Merciful, and kind, then you would Start to think, maybe I'm the one in the wrong And we would feel afraid of the consequences Of our behavior, of our wickedness, Of our wretchedness, because now we know That there is an absolute truth And there is an absolute standard with which Justice will be upheld by. What then is the resolution to our case? How then can we defend ourselves To the all-knowing Creator God Who has placed His law over all creation And will uphold justice for He is upright? What is

I know what happens to me Does not happen by chance There is a reason why Good things happen to bad people And bad things to good people But then I think again and begin To realize that maybe Everyone is not as good As they would want themselves to be. I believe there's such a thing As perfection but none can attain it I do place my hope though On the only One who has But then again, I'm still imperfect Flawed, blemished, broken Sometimes I can't wrap my head around it So I lay down my reason and submit And learn to trust in the truth Even if the world tries to slander it. This is why no matter how difficult Life may become or how harsh Things may get, I will endure it all Because I know that the things That happen to me are being worked out For my good, even if they seem bad But they help me grow and learn I have learned to trust and put my faith In the One who gave it to me in the first place.

Such sweet words you told me at the start I fell for them and I fell for you from that moment I trusted you when I could not trust anyone else Trust. Does that word mean anything to you? Do I? I would never look at you the same way Ever again. You took it and you dragged it In a hearse. You broke my heart, not because You cheated on me. But you lied to my face. You could have told me that you didn't Love me anymore. I would've clung on to you Anyways. That was the kind of fool I was For you. It all began when I met you. I knew who you were and I accepted you Despite the fact that I knew what I was Getting myself into. I loved the thrill and The adventure. But when the cup ran dry There was nothing left for you and I was Left for the scrap heap. Now, here we are. I have a good job, good prospects for my career And I have a family, we have two kids now. Here I am, standing on your grave. And I miss you. Note: This is a random poem t