Lines from a traveler

Being surrounded with people who have the same interests as you, at a certain point of your life, was like being tracked with a GPS device that would put you back to what map you must belong with. That was what I was feeling then, during my college days in a university where I happened to not only came to know people who have deep passion for writing, but as well came to live with them. These people are, like myself, have a certain degree of weirdness in them compared to ordinary mortals. Or, for some, may be investigated for the wrong reasons.

Harvey writes like a pro although he has never published anything yet back then and I learned a lot from him. His poem "Hitler's grip: A cry for Germany" was exceptionally very well written but he has chosen to keep all of his works to himself as he doesn't like the idea of publishing his own works. Ronnie, on the other hand, is a shy type. Silent as he was and may be most of the time and one that usually prefers to be alone, his writing will do all the talking though. I really admired his writing style because it felt like I was reading a fresh material each time and he always had a beautiful way of expressing it all through the written words. Jessie was a rare type. He writes fast, and in large volumes about anything at any point of time. He seemed like he didn't have that "writer's block" in him that some of us writers sometimes would. Mostly of his subjects were ordinary things, objects, places, and events, and as if with a magic, turned it into a masterpiece. His essay about a "gecko" was truly brilliant and he wrote it when, one time, he saw the small creature creeping upon the ceiling of his room.

I came to live with these people as we shared the same dormitory back in college. What I noticed about them was that they all have that great addiction for coffee by which I later on became one as well. "Try something ordinary and make it as fresh as possible," said Harvey as he read what was an amateurish Victorian poem of mine. I learned a lot from him, and from them as well but I never heard anything from them since then. Also, I have long ago quit drinking coffee.

Back then, it was a different perspective I was seeing. But as the years rolled by, I was seeing from all sides now. Below is a poem I wrote when I was in college and during which I still had a lot to learn from fellow writers and poets:

Arise from the grave of dreaming
O sleeping soul of mine
And scan the world without ceasing
Until you'll find the line

So lift your feet, now you must go
Amid the dark of night
What though your steps move very slow?
At least you'll have to fight

Along the way of rocks and dusts
Across a desert dead
Just keep the faith, don't walk too fast 
Patience is what you'll need

That narrow road upon the path 
Of falling down and strife
You must take it, no matter what
It is the way of life


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