Thursday, December 17, 2015

the written word.


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Sometimes I find myself leaning into the radiant glow of my computer screen, or the yellowed pages of my favorite book, fully immersed in letters. Letters that take the shape of words. Words, that when combined with small, blank spaces, flow into long sentences. Or short ones. The magic is still the same. These sentences take the lovely shape of my seemingly indescribable happiness. They form into the dark, relentless jaws of my fears. They wrap around me in an encompassing hug, wiping away the tears and assuring me that "things will be okay."

These words find a way into my soul, where they make no haste in learning to expertly play the heartstrings of my heart. Almost as if it were predestined.

I cling to every word that, rather than escaping from rebellious lips, choose to break free from fingertips.

-

In second grade, I tested out into the advanced reading program with a 12th-grade reading level. I read fast. I understood what I read.

And I always kept reading.

Perhaps I was born with a love for the written word. Or perhaps, I developed it through countless hours spent immersing myself in the cover of The Magic Treehouse or pouring over the pages of Harry Potter and finding refuge in the alternate worlds expertly crafted. Either way, I consider it a blessing nonetheless.

And yet, as I've gotten older, I'm finding it harder and harder to find time to just sit down in a cozy chair and open up a book and just read. I yearn for the chance to escape into the pages of another book, completely undisturbed by my surroundings. To be the girl walking down the hall clutching a big book to her chest. To be the student in the back of the class quoting Robert Frost or Dumbledore, depending on the mood she's in. I envy my younger brother in that aspect. He's still in middle school, and I often find him in bed with a book in his hands. Enjoy it while you still can ... I think during those quiet moments. It'll be gone soon.

Words make us feel something. I'm a firm believer in the collection of quotes. In fact, I even have a page devoted to collecting quotes here on my blog. Some people can say even the simplest things and turn them into eloquent poetry. Some people have a gift for personifying feelings and giving them tangible shape. I think John Green is definitely one of those people.

I remember reading both Paper Towns and Looking for Alaska last year. I remember gripping the closed books to my chest and just sobbing as I finished the last page. I remember the sadness yet infinite happiness as I soaked everything in. I remember discussing with my friend how infinite we both felt in those moments. I also remember wishing that one day, I would be able to write something like all the authors I've come to love. Something that would leave someone thinking. Something that would touch someone's heart, and maybe even leave a small footprint.

Like a song. Because with a song, no one knows how many different people got through hard times listening to those lyrics, clinging to every word. Or how many people made some of their favorite memories listening to them. Everyone interprets it differently, but to everyone it had a message. Often times, it helps me feel not so alone. Someone out there knows how I feel. They just put it into words and explain the things I cannot.

As Robert Frost once wrote, "A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness."

I want to inspire. Written words have always been there, especially when spoken words fail me and my mind goes blank.

I write because creating something that didn't exist before is as close to magic as I'll ever get, and that, in itself, makes me feel...

Infinite.

2 comments :

  1. [ Smiles ] Keep reading books and do continue to write your heart out!

    ReplyDelete

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