A Writing Experience - The Moment of Truth

I can't stop writing.

I can't stop writing.

I thank GOD for this gift of words.

Writing is pleasant but is it never easy; nothing though is easy. When I couldn't write I feel very messy and angry. I feel incomplete and crushed.

Truly, I write anything: letters, quotes, easy poems, ordinary stories - real and unreal. I tell you a lot in words. Those that mute me and those I find divulging. But then, the spaces between what I tell you are the more important deals.

A writer knows what ideas to pick and what not. If you are the responsible type, of course, you will know the consequences it will bring everyone. And you dare or you dare not... Inside your stomach the energy fills in like whirling water that want to gush forth. You want to come and reach the climax of the creative genius. This is the writer's moment of truth. Thinking how to express and convert in words line you with steaming energy the gods emit. It is like you've eaten ambrosia and forever eternal. And it makes you crave for all the words to spit slowly or vomit or tongue gently.

Writers, generally, have big hearts; but they are often mad. I am often mad, that is why I am able to write. Well, it doesn't matter if readers would like my stuff; what matters is I will share something, and in one million readers, at least - a soul would find me. And another, and another - until I spread the light of the creative work.

Right now, I just felt I have to write. I don't know what to write. My fiction is at halt, my essays are so ordinary, my letters are the language lessons and family/friend updates, my blogs are waiting for an input about popular culture. I'm typing old manuscripts slowly. I'm researching for literary texts (to borrow) and share about special topics. I'm on with monk duties retyping prayers (which I impose on myself). This is my writing life; and still -I have got nothing to write. I do monologues. I talk to the Saints and to GOD, and ask them, "What is Your verdict?"

Chores and in between I long to grab a book, a pen, a paper, and crave the keypads on the PC; in between a litany of Hail Mary's - I wait that GOD would somehow throw me a kiss, and I would feel the strength and joy of the work I love to do that moment of truth: write!

I read from Hemingway (A Moveable Feast), that after writing his story, he felt always empty and both sad and happy, as though he made love.

Well, I could not be Hemingway. I am just like anyone, You, sometimes existing, sometimes missing: "The Moments of Being of Virginia Woolf." During the write process, I can also see, no barriers stepping into the mine fields, as if, I will let it explode and get the experience of a war. The war in me. The war inside me.

And then, I will end my stories. And I will be ready for the next one of the nothingness or the moment of truth or what Kierkegaard calls "a leap of faith." (an interview of the writing Filipino master Edith Tiempo by famous poet Marjorie Evasco)

And so I try to write, and keep remembering the letters of Rilke in his "Letters to a Young Poet" (Translated by Stephen Mitchell) saying, "A piece of art is good if it has arisen out of necessity."

Here I thought I am doomed; but no, I am not: black and white, irony, paradox, advocate, "que sera sera." I am full. Thank God and thank God, I am given in this way. Hence, we all experience moments of grace where God tells us to find meaning.

We would share these special moments.

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A letter from Experience - The Moment of Truth

I can not stop writing.

I can not stop writing.

I am grateful for this gift of God's word.

The writing is nice, but it is never easy, but nothing is easy. If I could write, I feel very chaotic and evil. I feel incomplete, and comminuted.

In truth, I write: letters, quotes, poems, simple, ordinary stories - real and unreal. I tell you a lot of words. Those who silence me and to deliver that, I find. But then, the spaces between what you say, are the most importantProperties.

A writer knows that to get ideas and what not. If you're the kind of responsibility, of course, you know what the consequences will everyone. And you dare, or do not dare ... Within the stomach is filled with the energy of the swirling waters that gush. Want to come and reach the summit of creative genius. This is the writer moment of truth. Thinking of proposing such an expression and convert it into words, the line, which emit energy with steaming of the gods. E 'as you ate ambrosiaand for all eternity. It makes you want all the words are too slow or vomiting or tongue gently spit.

Writer, as a rule, have a big heart, but are often crazy. I am often mad, so I am able to write. Well, no matter whether the readers would like my stuff, what matters is that I'm about to share something, and one million readers, at least - I would find a soul. And another and another - to spread the light of creative work.

Now, I felt like writing. II do not know what to write. Fiction is my stop, my essays are so common, my letters are the language and family / friends for updates, my blog is waiting for input on popular culture. I'm writing slowly ancient manuscripts. 'm Looking for literary texts (on loan) and equity for specific issues. I'm on my prayers Monaco with the task of typing (which I imposed on myself). This is my life writing, and still have nothing to write. The monologues. I speak with the saints and God, andThey ask, "What is your opinion?"

Between the choir and I feel like a book, a pen, pick up a paper, long and PC keyboards, and among a litany of Ave Maria - I'm waiting, that God would somehow throw a kiss, and I want the power that she and the joy of work that I do not like in this moment of truth: Write!

I read Hemingway (A Moveable Feast), who after writing his story, which he always felt empty and sad and happy, as if in love.

Well, I could not Hemingway. I amall of you, sometimes another, sometimes lacking: "The Moments of Being by Virginia Woolf." During the process of writing, I see no obstacles to entering the minefields, as if I explode and get the experience of war. The war in me. The war in me.

And then I conclude my stories. And I for the next disability or from the moment of truth, or what Kierkegaard calls "an act of faith in general." (an interview with the Philippine Master Edith letterTiempo of the famous poet Marjorie Evasco)

And so I try to write, and keep the memory of the letters of Rilke in his Letters to a Young Poet "(Translated by Stephen Mitchell), said:" A work of art is good when it was created out of necessity. "

Here I thought I was condemned, but no, I'm not: the irony in black and white, paradox, a lawyer, "Que Sera Sera". Are full. Thank God and thank God, I am being this way. So, we all experience moments of grace, where God tells us to findMeaning.

We were leaving, these special moments.

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