I was writing in my mama's womb.
She said, can I please tone it down in there?
You see, I had this clunky Olympia typewriter when God put me in there.
"Here," He said, "keep busy!"
"Write something of note."
But since I had not been outside of my mama's womb yet, I didn't know what to write.
Furthermore, it was gooey in there.
And the darkness!
My God, the darkness!
I can't very well light a candle in there.
My momma's gonna get singed.
Not only that.
I'm gonna choke in there.
So, I wrote in the darkness, familiarizing myself with the QWERTY of the cool typewriter.
I went where no man has gone before.
How can I not?
There was no material to write about.
Oh, I correct myself on that one.
I had my own "listening post" where I could hear my Dad's loud, blaring music for all the neighbors to hear.
Can you imagine what that did to my poor, fragile eardrums?
And my senses?
Just forming, and he plays loud cha-cha, tango, Jerry Vale, Nat King Cole, Mantovani, Spanish orchestra stuff like 101 Strings (which was pretty good actually) and all that.
Ah, but I swung and grooved to Tom Jones, Matt Monroe, Al Martino, and Burt Bacharach.
Music 101.
Luckily, my Mom would go often to the kitchen to prepare food for papa and my older siblings.
I just wish she did that more often when papa would play the cha-cha that re-wired my brain, rather, that nearly messed up my circuits.
I turned off Bee Gees right now on YouTube.
I am writing and it is making me go off kilter for this magnum opus of mine.
Remember, I was tasked by God at a very early age to write.
I was a born writer.
I carried His Cool Genes.
That was what He created me for.
Sure, I didn't know what to write in the beginning.
Even if in the beginning was the Word.
And luckily, Microsoft invented Word.
I honestly don't know why they keep making new versions of it, though.
I don't need all those bells and whistles,and gizmos.
Simple is all I need.
But God's Word and Bill Gates' Word keeps getting reinvented, new versions made of it.
Now you see why I want to go back in my mama's womb.
Life has gotten too complicated out here.
What was all that nine-month-period in there for anyway?
Aha!
For incubation!
So that I can hatch my ideas well as I'm also being hatched!
Aha!
Believe me, a writer of my strange caliber gets plenty of "Ahas"!
Now, that sounds like a snake, in my native tongue.
"Ahas" in Tagalog (Philippine language) means "snake".
Aha!
So...
When Eve saw that apple and Ahas came over, slithering his way into her psyche, she just lost it.
Na-ahas.
Translated: "Got snaked."
Sorry...
I am a writer.
You must bear with me.
Words are my toys.
But you must admit, I do make sense sometimes.
You will learn much if you listen closely.
When you're in your mama's womb, you hear many things -- the gurgling of her tummy, for instance.
I learned she was hungry, and ate for two, because I was in there.
And papa, being a doctor, said for her to feed me good things -- good food, good music, good thoughts.
I don't know if she read.
Oh, that's right!
My mom loves those gossip magazines and fashion stuff, too.
No wonder, when I got out of there, I wanted the same.
Aha!
My mom will smack me if I say that's all she read.
Nah, she also likes watching those stories on cable hehehe.
Takes the learning to a new level.
Gosh, I'm so mean.
Well, I watch along with her sometimes.
But honestly, I get bored watching cable.
Not unless it's a ninja or samurai movie, or some saga or epic like Mel Gibson's "Braveheart" or "300".
You know the ancient warrior stuff.
That I like.
What does it have to do with writing?
Nothing.
Diversion, folks, diversion.
Okay, back to writing.
Yes, I was talking about my "listening post" in there.
I was okay, writing happily and peacefully, till my papa started playing cha-cha.
God, that really messed up my circuits.
Papa, what hast thou done to me??!!
Cha-cha or no cha-cha, I adore my father.
He and my mom, Lida Casusi, made me possible.
Of course, God was entirely responsible for my being here on earth.
If you like me, you will thank God.
If you don't, well, obviously, you will be saying stuff like "^(@^*+_(&%@!!.." and wishing I went back to my mama's womb.
Look, God doesn't teach those words.
You learned it all by yourself, yes?
As a fetus, God merely gave me a chunky Olympia and said, "Go forth and multiply."
And I did.
One word became two.
Then three.
And now, I am a prolific and productive writer who loves being irreverent, for she is reverent.
I have a love for the sacred, the profane, and the profound.
I love paradox.
I don't get confused by it.
I love sorting things out in my crazy head, and making sense of it.
I am a nut who loves untying knots.
Literally and figuratively.
As you will know soon enough in the next blog post.
Sure, I choose the words I write.
No expletives, ideally.
Explosives, yes.
For I want my writing to be bombastic, high-impact, explosive, and yes, worth remembering.
I am merely scribe to God.
I ascribe, describe, and God prescribes.
Even as papa's repetitive cha-cha nearly short-circuited my growing brain.
I hope he doesn't play too much of that up there.
I hope he occasionally plays my favorite 40s dance music, "Moonlight Serenade".
Oh, that one... glorious!
If I don't make sense, it's only because I make a lot of sense.
If I write crazy, it is because I am crazy.
It is up to you to discern and search the very depths of your being to see if you want to continue being my friend or not.
All you really have to do is play cha-cha and I'm outta there.
Oh, writing is fun!
I get to speak on my own terms.
Hehehe
Anyone wants to join my writing workshops?
Hehehe
I promise it will be fun and it will rock.
You will go where no man has gone before.
And you will be amazed at your own writing.
You will surprise yourself.
And that's really all that matters.
What you do to Self.
The Spark of God in you
.
.
Comments
Post a Comment