The numerology number “75” resonates with creative expression. The number 75 also tends to express its sense of personal freedom and can see situations with various points of view. Thus, with its innate creativity, it’s specially fitted for creative writing.
This week I’m celebrating. Not one thing, in particular, I’m just celebrating. This is not one of those corny “I’m celebrating because I wake up every day and feel the sunlight on my face” because although I do, I wake up to the hideous sound of my default alarm clock chime. Lately, I’ve had the opportunity to write for so many different audiences. I wrote for the Genesis Foundation in India, which helps children with Congenital Heart Defects such as mine. I’m writing for my beautiful readers here today (hey, I see you blushing). I’ve written for the beauty gurus who follow the written works of my alter ego: the trends and fashion adviser. And I wrote for myself.
I came to realize that whenever I’ve found myself in a pickle, I write. Whenever I’m celebrating, I write. When I’m feeling spicy, and I just heard the whole 50 Shades of Grey soundtrack, I write. Ok, you get it. But it was different this time. Today I celebrate my 75th article for Hiplatina. 75 weeks where I wrote: rain, shine or hurricane (both emotional and literal I may add). My writing has defined the person that I am, and it has created a need for writing in me.
I often find myself writing in my head. I think in sitcom, and I live in a constant monologue on how everything and everyone around me affects the way I see my environment, while I secretly craft characters out of people with a pen or pencil. I’ve become an instrument of my creativity, where thoughts flow, and I write because I need to write, not because I need to be read (thank you The Wife, for that eye-opener). I don’t write for the money, and I don’t write for fame. If I did, I would have sold my poetry notebook long ago. I write because it’s a vehicle. It’s a way for people to relate to me, while they know nothing about me. I’ve become addicted to writing and expression to the point where it’s my most excellent companion and that one best friend who won’t judge me or give me any unwanted advice. I see myself as an advocate for the pen and paper, and as a promoter for thought and interpretation, because writing has seen my biggest downfalls and my greatest sequels.
So as you sit and read this, think of the way the screen looks back at you, and the way I type each word to perfect my craft. Think of how I openly allow you to judge my writing, how I give you the freedom to laugh with me or diminish what I have created. I’ve spilled all my thoughts on this paper and for a minute, you know me. We’re having a conversation, and you know exactly what’s going through my head. You’re now a witness; you’re a spectator of my train of thought and the leakage of my creativity onto this paper. So my advice to you: whatever you’re going through, write about it. Tell the world what you think, what you love, what you hate, who you envy, and who envíes you. For all you know, your greatest confidant could be your keyboard and your endless word count.