This will be a quick blog post.
I woke up, showered, and prepared my things for work. I opened my Internet browser and went on Facebook. I saw this post by Jimbo, as fans know him by, but his real name is Mark Alexander Cuenco. I had a huge crush on him since I discovered his Twitter account (even before he was interviewed for having sexually provocative tweets) and fell in love with his words. But not just that, I’m in love with his talent, with his passion, with his sense of who he is. Now I find this post of his very timely as I struggle and, at the same time, aspire to become a better writer and find means to put myself out there. This only fueled my fire more. Thanks, babe. 😉
I was into drawing when I was a kid. I would draw on anything. Paper, desks, other people’s notebooks, shelves, walls, trees, anything. Everyone saw that so they all decided to assign me as president of my art class for 4 straight years back in grade school (it was a small private school near my house and we were a very small number of students per section, so yeah). I also played the drums early. There’s a thing called “Chapel Time” in my school and I’d play drums for that thing every Friday because my teachers would always see me tinker on the drumset during lunchtime (and make noises for everyone, haha). I think I was in grade 4 then. And for both these “skills” (or “talents”, what have you), I was encouraged by people around me to continue on. And I did (except drawing). I even danced (would you believe, haha). All these things, my teachers wrote on my yearbook description. Except writing.
Writing, that’s something that didn’t come easy for me. Very few people encouraged me to do so. Because very little people knew about it. And looking back now, I never really told anyone about the stuff I wrote. The most number of people I could count who knew would be at least be, 10 people (that’s including my English teacher who would, of course, see my essays by default). I still don’t know why I never let anyone in nor let anyone know. That’s where I went wrong, in hindsight. I was too insecure about something I knew I love(d) doing.
Sometimes, people would discourage you out of nowhere and that’s kinda hard to deal with but it’s manageable. But most times, people don’t encourage you because they have no fucking idea about what you’re good at.
I realized this very late in my life and you’re young and while you are, fucking put your stuff out there and just don’t give a fuck. People will realize this naturally and the same way everyone encouraged me to draw or play the drums (or dance), it’s the same thing for you, if you try and brave the judgments around you. Just put it out and share your shit to people.
Discouragements will come your way, but so will encouragements. You will get both, but at least you’re being encouraged while you’re at it.
Everyone needs a little bit of a healthy push here and there and nobody will give you that if you keep hiding your heart.
I don’t know why I’m posting this. Maybe I don’t want you to make the same mistake i did.
If in the deepest parts of yourself you’re sure you love doing what you’re doing, then please, by all means, do something about it.
Nobody becomes great by hiding the greatness residing in them. We all have a certain degree of greatness in all of us. All you have to do is get it out there. Every great person I know (at least the ones I’m aware of), were all bold enough to make shit happen for them. No matter the cost.
It’s actually free, these days. Social media is very available for your taking. Or whatever, just fucking do something. Make shit happen for you.
Disclaimer: I just edited capitalizations, punctuations, and whatnot. Other than that, I didn’t change or add anything else.
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