The Revival

It suddenly hit me one day; “Actions speak louder than words!” Ever since then, I’d stopped writing. That was the death of a writer. That was when I ceased to exist.

This is the revival.

I’ve realized that the time has come to begin exposing myself to the world. What actually happened to me in the past couple of months when I stopped writing was that I became enslaved to the rush of life. I gave up reading, writing, poetry, music, religion, etc…I gave up my passions; I gave up the things that define me. I had come to believe that these aspects of my life were no longer practical and would never factor into my future success.

Then, I came to realize that my soul was being depleted. I literally felt empty, worthless, colorless… What had happened to the glorious days of art and literature that had filled my life with so much ecstasy? I then came to realize that we only live this life once. There are essentials that must be entertained to make this a fruitful life.

One of them is writing.

Expressing myself contributes and enriches the many other dimensions of my life. Just as I realize that life is only lived once, I also realize that there are moments and phases of life that escape one’s life. It is therefore imperative to catch them, freeze them, and ingrain them in the eternal walls of life. This is a craft practiced since the dawn of civilization. Go to the temples of Egypt and you’ll see how divine writing was for the pioneers of civilization. Even the Prophet himself declared, “The ink of the scholar is more sacred than the blood of the martyr.” The subject in question is writing.

I needed this therapy to live a meaningful life. Writing is a very personal and private experience. Sometimes it torments me to imagine what the readers of my diaries will think when they open them. But I realize that when you write to an audience, it’s a different experience. You are not only enriching your life, but also theirs. You paint a picture for them, one that is rich with experiences from distant lands and times. This is why I return to blogging.

The diary is my true friend.

But I always felt that I could be more candid when writing to my diary. Every Friday, I’d bike alone to the Downtown, walk down the main avenue, absorb the ambiance of this haven, grab a slice of pizza from Vita Nova, go gallery hopping, and I’d always return like a dog to the Mudhouse, the café that defines my writing. I’d think of myself as Jean Paul Sartre in his Parisian cafes. At the end of the day, I’d sit and recap the week. I wouldn’t write of events, but rather emotions and ideas.

Writing in my diary was like talking to a friend. It would always listen to you when you needed an ear. And when you closed it shut, it would go away. Sometimes I would enjoy what I was writing. Sometimes I would hate it. But I always needed it. I’d hide from people that I kept a diary because I thought it was a sign of weakness. Writing in my diary meant solitude and melancholy. But I realized that this diary was selfish. It would keep all my expressions to itself. It would never share them. I then visited my abandoned blog… I realized that it was rich with photos and words that made others happy. It was opened to the world.

Back to blogging.

Snapping back to reality, I realize that this is my final year at the University of Virginia. I have lived here for the past four years and have yet to share my experiences with others. I have been as selfish as my diary, keeping everything to myself. It is now time that I share this precious experience with the world. As of this day, I promise to pack my camera, laptop, and blog with me wherever I go. I am on a mission to record this experience and share it with you. Yes, you patient reader who is courteous enough to acknowledge my presence. I shall visit the Art museum, the pond, the Downtwon, the Corner, and all the holes in the walls that I have discovered here in Charlottesville. I only ask one favor of you; that you become loyal to me and I will be loyal to you. From this day on, you can expect to hear a lot more from me. I look forward to reviving this relationship, dear reader.

Sincerely Yours,

Mostafa