When I was first told that we were required to write journals as part of the prerequisite evaluations for my Creative Writing class, what came into my mind was “I am not going to write typical journals”. What I mean as typical journal is to write so many different things that are most likely not related; something that apparently has no focus (though they might have particular topics) and hardly substantial.

Therefore, I have decided to come up with a story that has 14 chapters in it, and that would be equal to the 14 journals that we are supposed to have.

Silence is derived from my own experience as a human being with ugly flaws and attributes. It is one of the strongest memories I have had so far, and upon realizing that Creative Writing is the only class where I am fully allowed to express my thoughts, feelings, creativity and authentic experiences, I have convinced myself to seize the opportunity given and write down an experience that is so dear to my heart.

Everyone has a silent story in their lives, a story that we rather keep it all inside. However, one day we will wake up in the middle of the night and this silent story will come back and haunt us. Silence does not fall only when we are all alone and without companion. Silence does not come only when you are in a place where you do not belong. Nor that it comes when there is not a single sound around you. Silence comes even when you are in the most crowded place.

From a bigger perspective, there are so many issues that are considered as “silent” in this life. We keep it silent for we fear of people’s judgment and negative impression. We have been so accustomed of asking ourselves “what might people think?”, and therefore, we refuse to do justice and to be fair to ourselves.

On a more personal note, there are feelings we wish we could say to the people that stand dear to our heart, but they are kept silent. Indeed, life is an odd affair. And because it is often unpredictable and complicated, keeping it silently might be the better way. Whatever it is, there will be a point where our little heart can’t take it no more.

And sharing it might heal our little heart, silently.


As you probably have known by now, this was the foreword of my Journal for my Creative Writing course back in semester five. 'Silence', in my opinion, remains one of the best writings I have ever produced to date, and how I wish I could publish all the 14 chapters here on my blog. But I am still not convinced to take that big step. I still remember that I obtained a total 14 out of 15 marks allocated for this particular assignment. For me, it indicated a great deal of how much writing skills that I drew into 'Silence' and needless to say, it was a great feeling to know that it was well-received by my lecturer.

Every now and again, I would go to my Creative Writing folder and take my own time to read it. And more often that not, while reading, I would ask myself "Whatever possessed me to write it? Was it really me who wrote this?".

And the biggest question that is always lingering at the back of my mind is this: Could someone mean so much in your life that you gather up all the courage, brave through the pain and heartache of recollecting bitter memories (after spending years trying to bury them away) and immortalize them in your writing?

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