RESUSCITATE
In the digital age of scrolling at 50 posts per minute, not
a lot of people stop to read huge chunks of captions let alone entire pages of
clumped up words they call articles. One of the reasons many people get tricked
into believing fake stories across the web is that writers who are out to cause
destruction use catchy but misleading titles because, yes, people only read the
titles. Honestly, if an author’s first 100 words aren’t strong enough, I just
end up exiting and their write-ups just get flushed out of my brain. My quick
judgement towards other people’s way of writing is probably the reason why I’m
anxious to write lately, other than the idea that I pour over my heart and soul
on a large blank space only to be shunned by the rest of the internet. In this
era of fast paced swiping and scrolling, does anybody ever really stop to read
and understand?
I have always had a complicated relationship with my
creative space on the web since I graduated high school. At some point in
college, I decided to just give up and toss this site in the back burner. The
only thing that keeps me from doing it is that my portfolio is hung on one of
these tabs. But look at me, I’m revisiting the old friend from high school
again to give our relationship a shot once more.
Not entirely sure what to write down, let me just tell you a
story. The story of why I have once again tried to resuscitate a dying part of
my life.
Back in the day I remember my father didn’t really like the
idea of blogging. He always told me how much of a waste of time it was posing
for nonsense photos, uploading them on a platform for people who don’t care at
all. He also stressed how it was a waste of money to keep buying clothes
for the sake of dressing well for the same people who wouldn’t bother to look.
I never budged though. I kept doing my thing, while my father kept watching me
do it. After a few years, I guess he finally understood why I liked being here.
I love dressing up, looking pretty, and taking photos. But most importantly, I
love to write. I just found writing about fashion was the easiest yet most
heartfelt thing to write about for a 13-year-old who had little experiences in life to
talk about.
I think my father enjoyed reading my work that he finally
stopped discouraging me to own a blog. Sometimes I’d dig deep into my heart and
write about my life and him and mom would be the first ones to read it. After
they point out all my typos and errors, he’d chat me up on how happy he is of
my writing. One thing he’d always tell me was how proud he was of my skill of
putting thoughts and feelings into words. He’d tell me to keep on writing
because he was certain that I’m great at it. And my favorite comment was that he’d tell me that
my brother and I were so much better writers than he ever was. As someone who
thinks that her father was the greatest at anything academic related, this was
gold.
Now that he’s no longer around, I’d like to keep going
forward with something with his stamp of approval. Although people might no
longer be interested in long sentences and thick paragraphs, I’m going to carry
on because no matter how tiny the readership population may be, I’m sure
there’s one reader out there that the blogsphere doesn’t have the ability to
count.
Photo 1 shot at New Hampshire, USA. SM WOMAN blazer, UNIQLO top, BERSHKA pants, LACOSTE shoes ; Photo 2 LIRA CADORNA dress