Bleeding Ink.

26th June, 2019

“Dear Diary,
I began writing pretty early on, and never in a million years would I have imagined that this could be something that I could do professionally. When I was around 10, I began to write as a way to organize my thoughts and have an outlet whenever I felt that a certain thought that crossed my mind could somehow be a good idea. I started journaling when I was 11. Ten years later, I’m still journaling because it gives me such peace of mind. Sometimes, I find writing down my thoughts a better outlet than drowning myself in music or a good jog. It’s just something I can’t really put into words.”

I’ll try to explain anyway. See, writing was meant to be a distraction. It was supposed to be an escape from the outside world. But clearly, the more I wrote, I realized how absolutely magical it could be, and eventually I fell in love with writing to the point where I wouldn’t let anybody tell me that it wasn’t practical professionally or that the road ahead would be full of difficulties for me.

Although it was supposed to distract me from the outside world and I kept most of my poetry to myself, a few of my teachers sent a couple of poems to the school’s magazine committee, and to the Times student edition newspaper that almost everybody in our batch had subscribed to. I didn’t really expect anything out of it. And it wasn’t until I saw my poetry in print, pinned on the school’s notice board, with my batchmates coming up to me to congratulate me for it, that I realized maybe it was my calling after all.

I will have you know that I was just like any other teenager— confused and directionless. I was 16 when I finally decided that I wanted to write professionally. And while that might seem like a very late decision, taking a stand isn’t exactly easy when the whole world around you is Hell-bent on telling you that you’d never amount to anything if you didn’t take the conventional route.

And yet here I am. The smell of a fresh notebook and wet ink, the sounds of typing as my fingers hit the keyboard, and the sight of my thoughts taking shape in front of me— these are the things that I now live and breathe for. Maybe not physically, but metaphorically, I do bleed ink when I put my soul into something I’m writing.

So, what’s your calling?

Cheerio! Xx

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Hey guys! For day 26, I chose to write about something I am most grateful for. Let me know what you think in the comments below. Also, share with somebody you think might need this today. I’ll look forward to hearing from you.
Yours truly,
The Shubhster.

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