You Are What You Eat: You Write What You Read

When I did the usual ritual that can lighten me up a little: I go to the rooftop, just lying there on the roof feel the nocturne breeze on my face. It really calmed me down and made my mind abruptly stated a thing that I didn’t realize before: my lack of reading. Both quantity and quality.

It’s already a year or more since I last read a good novel. Come to think of it, the last novel I bought was A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess. It was on April 2006, a year ago. Darn it. I had been too busy to stop by at Tobucil or Omu just to see new books they had on their shelves. Plus since then my (ex)girlfriends didn’t seems like having some good books either.

Indah was an exception. She’s intelligently smart (oh yeah we read Tim Burton’s together). I really enjoy the time when we had the English conversation late at night at her house for hours. Until now, there are only two people I could only have a very comfortable English conversation with: Indah and Maya (it makes me wonder how Maya is doing now, I hope she’s fine though).

My next girlfriend after Indah is smart academically. She, majoring Nursery, had good grades, but I couldn’t seem to find too much similarity in the things we read. All I can think about her books is thick and thicker books about human’s anatomy, or pharmacology, or something like that. She read that every nights, no wonder she had good grades, eh? She had some novels too, she likes reading. But I couldn’t borrow a good novel to read for me. The one and only book I borrow from her is a local-writer’s book about people sending emails, starting to fall in love with each other, and finding themselves couldn’t be together. The book wasn’t too bad, but it wasn’t that good either. I wouldn’t recommend it as a one of the books I like.

The same thing happened with my girlfriend after her. She only had the books and magazines about architecture and interior design stuffs. The good thing is I have the same major with her, so we could read the magazines together and discussing the stuffs we read. It was a really good discussion, but only about the architect’s profession. But no novel, even a science-fiction. No novel at all.

So now I’m trying to feed up my mind by reading few novels I bought but haven’t read it.

To gain my touch of writing too, maybe. There are some lack of quality in my writing now, I think. Although some of my friends said that my writings are good; they think I’m a natural born writer. There’s no such things as natural born something, it’s silly. In the end, it all came up with good books and practice. Maybe it’s kind of silly, but to me, really, I write what I read. You write what you read. If you read good writings then you can be a good writer. Sha, a sweet girl I know, could make fine lyrics because when she has read so many lyrics; she differ the good song from the bad one basically by judging the lyrics.

I don’t want to end up with writings about crapping this or yelling those or angry about this or backstabbing (my friends favorite words, haha.) about that. I read that kind of people's writings too much lately, and I don’t think it’s a good one. I mean, it’s a good way to put up your emotions into the writings, but don't write emotionally. You just trying to embarrass yourself by making people laugh at you. You are rubbish because you write rubbish. I mean, if your writings aren’t good enough, then the books you read aren’t good enough.

And suddenly I feel that I miss QB. Really.

...

Oh my God, what the hell am I writing about?