On Writing Again.

I remember college, walking past the University hospital, on my way to an afternoon class, I felt a sort of an 'epiphany'. I cannot recall the details. The memory of mood is clear. I was praying to the Divine. My mind and heart were in unison. My pathways blurred. Faces nonchalant. I was actually praying if he could make me not be a best writer but become a really good one. I asked him if he could help me to become a good communicator. I asked him if he could just let me write crystal clear. The clearest of words in the sunlight. It may be difficult since I always associate writing as a crusade. It is not going to be a magic carpet ride for me but a struggle. A struggle to find words and meanings at the same time. A struggle to find a needle in the haystack. At one time, I feared. But the fear keeps me alive and I have liked it. The moment you struggle to look for words (of course, there's always the thesaurus) or start a sentence and there is a deadline coming, it is kind of orgasmic. That was how I begun to like writing. Now, I am thankful because my job entails a kind of writing. - whether it'd be technical or journalistic. Of course, there are those far ahead of me. I take inspiration from them nonetheless. I cannot compare much. Someday, I will be there in the inner circle. Whatever that inner circle means.