Home for Winter

chapter 04

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chapter 04
Inspirations in Lonely Conversations

Everett

People thought that it's easy to be a writer. I don't know how to hide my disdain whenever I hear someone say, bravely, straight to my face that I must be living stress free, just writing and cash will come in. No stress at all.

No stress at all.

What a load of crap.

Sana talaga gano'n lang kadali. Hindi ko sana inubos ang halos kalahati ng buhay ko nang mag-isa para lang magsulat at makarating sa kung nasaan ako ngayon. Hindi sana ako nagsusunog ng kilay gabi-gabi.

Writing is easy? They only see and appreciate the finished product. They don't know what goes behind the curtain. The headaches, blank space, and sleepless nights.

That's what I realized after constantly hearing the same compliment that sounds more like an insult whenever my new book launches.

All they see is that thick finished and polished book and thought, ah, must be so easy to just spew some words and grab your cash.

Out of frustration, I lean my head on the chair, only to realize that it was too small that my head falls behind. Napatitig na lang ako sa walang kabuhay-buhay na ceiling. The fluorescent light makes the room seem warm.

Kapag talaga mas malakas ang sakit ng ulo ko kaysa sa mga naiisip na isusulat, napupunta sa mga reklamo ang utak ko. It's like a habit at this point. But what's not normal is the fact that I can't write anything right for the past few months.

Find some inspiration that fits this trend. Na-try mo na ba mag-explore?

"Inspiration," that didn't roll out well. Nagtunog insulto. Ang daling hanapin kapag hindi ko kailangan, pero nasaan na ngayon?

"Crap," bulong ko at hinilot ang sentido. Sumasakit pa lalo ang ulo ko dahil wala man lang bintana rito. What kind of house doesn't put one—Focus. I should focus.

I should write— wala pa akong nagagawa nang biglang mamatay ang ilaw. Tumayo ako at sinubukang buksan ang switch. Pero pati pala ang electric fan namatay.

Crap.

I stare at the blank page of my laptop. And sigh.

I just need to write; and yes, to grab some cash and uphold my name. Why is it so hard? Why did I choose this path again?

I can't believe writing costs this much nuisance. And I can't believe I'll come to this point where I question why I chose to be a writer.

Dahil walang bintana, madilim at mainit. I don't have a choice but to go downstairs, unless I want this headache to worsen. Mas lalong walang mangyayari sa akin.

Olivia's sitting in the same spot when I get down. The café is the same, but this time, it feels warmer because of the fluorescent light. Kuwarto ko lang ba ang walang kuryente?

Lumapit ako. Tatapikin ko na sana ang balikat niya dahil hindi ako nakikita nang mapansing malalim ang tingin niya sa labas.

Unconsciously, I look in that direction. Tall trees wrap in white, snow falls fast with every blow of the cold wind. Icicles hanging from tree branches and leaves like transparent creatures. And then, on the glass wall, are three snowflakes. They look like something straight out of a Disney movie, unique from the common ones. Translucent and six-sided as if they are carefully molded by nature.