What Truly Matters (1)
What Truly Matters: It had been a rainy Friday. Speranza spent her day sleeping mostly. She was knackered. Her energy drained, her strength dried. Her heart shattered into many thousands of pieces.
Speranza’s confidence was badly shaken by some recent events, one of which led her into believing that she could introduce her different genres of writing to many. Bearing in mind what Bono and Karli told her, Speranza forced herself to compromise, giving what others want, believing that the effort would pay off eventually.
Yet, little did Speranza realise how wrong she had been, almost causing her to lose the confidence completely she had slowly built for the past three years.
Speranza’s vision blurred as her eyes filled with fiery tears. She stared at the page on the screen of her laptop. She couldn’t believe what she saw. Standing on that page was another preview, one of which she wasn’t notified. She looked at the date, yes; those numbers indicated how right Arnaud and Karli were about xxx.
‘Dear xxx Administrator,
I understand that your article on xxx is out (xxx). My friend was telling me that my blog link is not in your article, among the others. I went to check it out and yeah, my friend was right.
I would like to know why since you guys had mentioned something about posting the article on xxx.
Speranza knew better to keep mute but she couldn’t. She had made every possible effort in putting up what she knew they wanted. Speranza had always taken pride in writing but bearing in mind what Bono, Zariel, and Karli once told her, she set up the Photo Blogging as well.
Speranza never believed that an article would only be appealing with photos or pictures. She only believed that words were what matters the most but she knew she couldn’t reverse how others expected as well as having the same love she has for words; just words.
Speranza was hoping to change the mind of the many others in her country slowly, to at least have the basic respect for words, taking the time to savour the hidden meaning(s) behind. Yet, she knew she had to first give what others were used to before any changes could be made. After all, she was just a nobody, someone who barely existed in the eyes of many.
Speranza waited for the reply. It came later than expected, only to infuse indignant in her heart.
It’s selected at random so as not to leave the blog entry too long. Nothing wrong with the entry on your end. 🙂
Speranza read the reply twice before typing,
Oh okay… for a moment, I thought there was something wrong with my entry… (Hahahaha)
Glad to know that…
From the random selection, it appears that there’s always the ‘regulars’ that are appearing. Kind of disappointed cos new faces always seemed to come and go or even never making it in but the regulars are staying. Just curious, how to be one of the ‘regulars’??? I mean, if you don’t mind sharing.
Thanks for taking the time to reply though.
Speranza had wanted to reply in a more upfront way, something about the random selection but she didn’t. She wasn’t the type of person who would force someone to a corner, causing them a dead end.
Speranza wanted to hit this xxx website hard about the random selection. How on earth could they lie? If it was indeed randomly selected then why would there be ‘regulars’? If only they had replied truthfully in the mail then at least Speranza would feel anything else but indignant.
Arnaud shook his head as he read the reply and asked, ‘Do you not know how many in the society are? They would never be as serious as you are, neither would they be truthful in their replies. They would just be as general as possible so as to twist and turn their answer(s) to their advantage.’
Speranza nodded, fighting to hold back her tears. She was trying hard to show what many had forgotten in and through writing. She wanted many to know that words could paint the pictures in one’s mind without relying on any photos or pictures.
Indignant deepened with the words in the next reply.
‘By writing good reviews and putting effort into the blog posts. 🙂
‘Does that mean those who are not among the ‘regulars’ wrote suck-up reviews as well as putting zero effort into the blog posts?’ Arnaud asked in disbelief. ‘I neither see the effort nor the goodness when it is nothing but photos and photos. Uploading photos need effort and so does writing and in fact, writing required more. No wonder the locals have such a low standard when it comes to commenting about serious or major matters.’
Speranza remained in silence. She said nothing. In fact, she heard countless times from people sharing her same nationality, telling her how little time they had to just read as well as the little interest they have for words.
To make things worse, Speranza received another email, stating that there was a limitation of space thus for the next event she was invited to, there was now a limited for one unless she planned to bring a blogger along because it was an all bloggers event.
How timely that change arrived! Speranza re-read the previous mail which they first sent. No matter how hard she searched or re-arranging the words in the mail, they mentioned nothing about being an all blogger’s event.
Speranza remembered her Schuyler’s words. Schuyler said, ‘Anyone can be a blogger as long as one has a pic, making your blog appealing to the public. But, dear, you are not, remember? You set up blogs because you want to showcase your writing. You want to inspire people with your writing, bringing those hidden and forgotten philosophies of feelings/emotions and thoughts with each story, working and growing in your writing to be a published author or a writer one day.’
Yes, Kim said the same thing and so did Arnaud. How could Speranza be so naïve? Speranza had naively believed that as long as she followed the crowds, making a compromise, giving them what they wanted, they would then also take a look at what Speranza was trying to show – her writing.
Speranza’s blurred vision became clearer now. Her tears dried. Arnaud’s words had turned into evidence; the un-notified event that took place three days before.
Speranza realised she should never have changed her style of ‘writing’ to suit others. Her style of writing should grow, not changed! Speranza felt pain for words. Words were friends to Speranza yet she almost abandoned them, just to suit others.
‘Sorry, my friends,’ Speranza’s heart whispered as she took down all the past posts in two of her blogs. It was time for Speranza to write in the ways she had always wanted. Speranza looked at her four other blogs. She decided to keep www.tingnovels.com as Photo Blogging for Daryl. Yeah, if there was any reason to keep that change made for xxx, it would be Daryl because of love.
Speranza believed all creations should be created in and for love, never for the tiredness or to replace something because of the lack of interest in that area. Photo blogging should only stay because of love and Daryl made that possible. Speranza took down two of the entries in her Photo Blogging since those were done for xxx.
A smile returned and stayed on Speranza’s face as she looked through her works in www.intinglligent.com and www.tingvine.com as she knew articles were written and published in love, meant to inspire, bringing out the hidden philosophies. She knew she would continue to write in those genres, improving and growing.
Speranza’s smile widened as she viewed www.tingsaying.com. She was proud that she was on her way to overcome the pain Mariel had afflicted on her towards Mandarin. Speranza loves Mandarin too; in fact, she has a deep love, an unexplained connection with Languages. Speranza announced the death of her ability in Mandarin when she was doing her Secondary School years because she couldn’t cope with the deep affliction. Mariel denied her ability in Mandarin, making cutting and harsh remarks, giving mocking or sarcastic comments since Speranza began her Primary School years. The only way Speranza could do to stop her mother from afflicting her was to cast Mandarin away, out of her life.
Speranza often wept silently, swearing and cursing herself for pronouncing Mandarin dead, making it extinct in her life. She was glad for the courage that Schuyler injected, making Speranza confronting what matters truly in her heart. Speranza was thankful for Arnaud too for he always believed Mandarin was still alive and waiting for Speranza silently.
Speranza felt better now. She knew those episodes of moments weren’t meant to get her down but to deepen her love and faith in moving towards her dream. She could see her love for writing maturing, her connections with words through writing growing slowly but surely. Speranza smiled as she thanked God in silence.
(To be continued … Speranza’s love for writing was badly wounded and now that she survived, is everything really over for good? Find out in Chapter 2 of Tingtasy Stories Diary)