experience / imagination

I never realized how much I write before. Until now.

I saw some of my works before. I did a couple or more for my own aspiring film making group, which my college friends and I made before. I rediscovered it just now, and I only expected flawed sentences and poor story telling, but no. I didnt expect the writing I did back then to be THAT good.

Then I started thinking, how many did I write? I can remember some of the plot of the stories which was dear to me, like the one I made on my first year as a college student. Basically, it was a doomsday story and a dozen of survivors managed to live on a high tech bunker as poisonous gas from nuclear attacks from an unknown source spread throughout the whole country.

I mean, just coming up with that is crazy imaginative. Im not patting myself on the back, but the young me really had quite an imagination.

I also remember one where it centered on a town in Pennsylvania called Centralia. If you do a quick Google search about Centralia, Pennsylvania, you’ll find out that it was a town above a coal mine, and the coal mine is still on fire years after it set ablaze. The plot I made is about a small group of misfits who were running away from the authorities, lived there as they waited for the heat on them to cool down. Coincidentaly, a zombie outbreak happened every where in the states EXCEPT, of course, Centralia, Pennsylvania, because no one could or would live there because of the fire below the ground. So, the misfits just happened to be living in an unhabitable place before the zombie outbreak, which later became the most habitable after the zombie outbreak.

Isnt that creative? Tell me that isnt creative? I was probably 13 or 15 years old back then, I am too lazy to count. I used to stay up all night because I really enjoyed writing it. I didnt type it on a laptop, I legit wrote it on a notebook, and I know where those notebooks are. Its in my home in the Philippines, in a blue plastic box.

I used to write a lot of fiction back then. Realistic fiction is what I like to categorize it, because I want it to be as close to reality as it can be. If there was no iPhone during the time I am writing a story, there would be no iPhones on it. If MySpace was still the go – to social media website, I will use MySpace in my story, not any other before, or after. I never liked the idea of writing on a previous generation setting. I write my stories based on what was happening during the time I am writing it. So, no futuristic stuff, nor medieval things in my story. If I made a zombie centered story, there would be no advance warfare weapons.

My point about all this is, I envy my young self. If I can do that scene in Interstellar where he entered a place where he can go to a specific place on a specific time, I would want to go back to see my younger self writing the stories I wrote. I want to see my young and enthusiastic writer self, and get some inspiration from him.

I miss writing is what Im also trying to say. I know why I stopped, too.

I stopped because I found the first love of my life. When she came, the fictional love story I write in my stories are not fictional anymore. I am driven with romantic gestures as I write before. All my stories are mostly centered, if not entirely, to the main character driven with his love to his damsel in distress. I always imagined myself as the main character.

So, when I had my first girlfriend, I stopped. Because I thought I didnt have to imagine what its like to feel in love and translate it into words that make up the stories I make. I actually can do it to someone real.

It might sound great and triumphant. The writer who makes up love stories for himself with his make believe character, now has a real shot at love. But now, I find it sad. Not because of my first girlfriend, but because I stopped imagining and started to see reality.

Only now, literally, that I realized I miss imagining. I miss creatively writing about something. I miss my main characters will to get the girl. Not that I am a romantic person, in fact, I hate the idea of talking about romance and love. I just miss my imagination.

Imagination dies as you grow old, because it is replaced with experience.

I still think about stories now. In fact, the reason I started this page is because I wrote a short story which I am finishing up. But that story is based on my experience. Sure, I put in some details to it that didn’t actually happen, but it still is based on a real personal experience.

I am inspired by my younger self. I may seem to praise myself a lot, but I really am impressed with my younger self. Its not that I wish I hadn’t met the first love of my life so I didn’t stop writing. I actually am grateful for the heartbreak she gave me, because it shaped the man I am today, and I love the man I am today.

I just wish I knew before to give time to my passion of writing. I wish I never stopped writing. Now, Im inspired.

If anyone is actually reading this, I want to say to continue doing what you enjoy doing. I dont want to say love, because you will only feel that you love doing something if you’ve done it consistently for a long time. Keep doing what you enjoy, no matter what or who comes into your life, keep doing it. Even if it gives you nothing tangible in return. The most important thing you will want is the feeling of joy and happiness, no matter how stressful is the process, you will constantly seek for something that gives you joy. Mine was writing. I may have troubles formulating a story to keep it moving, but that was the joy of the process.

When you are doing something you enjoy, its the best self care you can do.

So, to my younger self, thank you. I lost sight of you, I may have even forgotten you. I may have forgotten the isolated nights we had as we write our fictional stories, but now I remember that. I loved myself during those times of isolation, because I had my imagination. My imagination was way better than my reality. It surely is much better than where I am now.