The Girl With the Purple Pen
I’ve tried. Tea is bearable. I’m not biased. Sometimes I boil water in my room and brew a strong cup of tea. Typically, I only feel so inclined when I’m sick. Only then do I believe in the power of extra vitamin c, additional supplements, cold medicine. You name it. My conclusion that if I believe the stuff actually works then I’ll overcome whatever bug it is that has inhibited my body.
Coffee is where it’s at. Like others, my college budget doesn’t allow for a four dollar latte from Starbucks every day. That kind of reckless spending is hardly economical. That’s fine with me. I can do with another leisure: my Keurig coffee maker. One of the best birthday presents throughout my twenty years. Most people don’t need the extra calories pumped into most drinks elsewhere. And yet, on the rare occasion I treat myself—often out with a friend—I still laugh when they order a regular cup of Joe. I mean, for all I care, we could have just enjoyed a cup of coffee in my dorm. That’s just how my brain works. I’m practical and frugal.
There is an analogy between the coffee and my writing. My writing, the writing I share with social media anyways, is a compilation of thoughts similar to discussions I’ve had over coffee. The range of topics is broad. Occasionally, I meet with a friend to say “farewell for now. Enjoy your adventures globetrotting. Other times I find myself in deep theological discussions. Often, the theme is hardly complex. Small talk at best. “How is school?” “How is work?” “How is your relationship with that special guy of yours?” Coffee Shop Talk. The atmosphere in most coffee shops I’ve run into are welcoming. Mostly laid back—well, except for maybe those that are within a 3 mile radius any mall. Hardly formal. Definitely energetic.
This ideology is what gave me the inspiration to start my blog. I wanted a platform where I could be wrong. Make mistakes. Leave behind my grammar Nazi tendencies. And hopefully, make an impact. Be it big or small. This is my exhortation. If you are able to carry a conversation over a cup of hot liquid, I do not doubt your ability to write. One must not write to be known, but understood.
“I write because I don’t know what I think until I read what I say.”
I don’t mean to bore you. Rather, I desire to inspire you to begin your own adventure. In all honesty, life in words is may seem dull at first. But then, you look back on that first page you wrote. Your thoughts will probably vary. You may laugh, you may cry, you may feel inspired. I never write to grab the attention of a highly esteemed audience. Elite wordsmiths. That group is small. Ordinary people do extraordinary things. They are the ones who take risks. This group doesn’t let the burden of conformity shape their voice. I raise my mug of coffee—your choice of drink is entirely up to you—to the underdogs, the creators of mistakes, the adventurers, the risk-takers, the beginners, the aspiring wordsmiths, the coffee drinkers and tea drinkers. May you take note of the people and experiences who become a part of your writing adventure.