To be a writer...

When i was younger i always wanted to be a writer. For a while i believed i had the talent to a good, if not great, writer. Back in high school i joined some contest and my teachers had praises for the depth of my writing. I remember one afternoon our English teacher instructed each of us to write a short poem in japanese style.5-7-5 syllables, he said.We were then given time to "find inspiration." At the end of the period we had to read our poems in front of the class. Our teacher gave me the best compliment when he asked me if he could keep my poem.

On the piece of paper i wrote:

Wind plays with my hair
Sitting in this empty room,
Quiet, all alone.

I did write for the school paper in high school and college, but somewhere along the way i lost the motivation to write. Until recently. I met a girl who reminded me so much of someone i knew in the past. Someone who was very close to me. Was it her looks? Maybe her quiet, boyish ways. Or maybe its her smile. Seems like her first reaction to evrything that happens around her is to smile. Its very rare to find a person like that nowadays. Her sweet innocence is like a breath of fresh air from the country when your choking from the polluted air of cynicism here in the city.

This girl turned out to be a writer, and I found her blogs a joy to read. She seems unaware of how special she is. Somehow I wanted to tell her that, but i am afraid my opinion of her wouldnt matter. Im just a stranger after all.

Maybe i should begin writing again. Maybe she will get to know me through my writing. Ah, I think ive found my inspiration.