I'm back. I've been pouring my impulse to write into a website that allows me to post fictional stories. I forgot how much I loved creative writing.
I used to share my stories with friends. Some I wrote down till dead in the night using my dad's computer. I think he knows I like writing, because back then the desktop monitor would face him and he can see that I've got Microsoft Word open as I type away.
I never shared with him my stories though, but I have the slight suspicion that he may have read it. Because sometimes, he'd give me a little smile and suggest me to write seriously about the environment/business/life and enter a competition.
That's a lovely idea and I appreciate his support, but that's not my passion.
My passion is saying what I want, feel and ultimately not to be judged about it. This is just a method for me to vent. Some people express it by being super chatty while others just delete it from their mind. Me? I write.
Another way I've let out my inner creativity is by story telling. Back when I was in Darjah 4 ugama, I spent hours talking to my friends about an imaginary story and they actually listen everyday. I don't even know why. They enjoyed it too.
I can't even remember how I did it, how it started, but I see glimpses of those moments clearly. It's strange.
Have I ever confessed to you about my past? Yeah, I kind of erased a large sum of it.
I don't remember a lot of it, unlike others. It was disconcerting at first because it seemed as if I can't recall memories that were extremely significant to the world, only the ones that seem to hold a random meaning to me. Like the memory of a beetle climbing up my pants. Of all things, why do I remember that?
Regarding my writing, my friends also printed out my fictional stories before and let my English teacher read it. I can't believe I let them in the first place.
It's soooooo weird when I actually think about the things I did in the past.
So, recalling all these memories, it suddenly makes sense why I missed writing so much that I had to pour it online on a fictional story site. How did I forget how much I loved to write? This part time passion of mine is shared with my cousin, Wardee, who also writes regularly online. We don't read each other's stories though. Just a little blurb here and there and ego-boosting views counting time and again. That's what we do *hugs*
I'm an author huhu
It's not a big deal. I'm just sharing my imagination for the world to read, but it's nothing exceptional or life changing. So no, I'm not telling you what I wrote online!
But the readers of the site do enjoy it. My subscribers are gradually increasing everyday for two of my stories and it's nice to have some recognition, even if I'm hidden behind the curtains.
I'm not a good writer - let's make this clear.
What I think I'm good at...is telling stories. Maybe. My bro says I've got amazing vocabulary but it's hard to use that part of my brain willingly. It has to come out when the situation calls for it.
My words are emotionally driven. I think.
But because of this creative writing skill I've honed over the years, I do find it difficult as a Speech Pathology student to write reports that are objective and formal.
I'm still trying to make my way step by step into a model Speech Pathology student.
So, I'm leaving for Brisbane, Australia tomorrow.
It's heartbreaking to leave behind my beloved cats and family, but millions of people have done this, so I can brave this one out! Besides, I've done it last year. It's now my second year, but let me tell you something. For me, it's harder leaving as more time passes.
I have to be courageous though! I need to get my Masters, at least, in order to specialize in whatever I want to specialize in.
3 more years till my degree finishes.
I'm amazed that I completed one year already. Where did time go? Where did 2015 fly? How did I live my 2014, even?
And almost seven years with this blog...
I've been with you, bloggy, longer than I could ever imagine!
I changed your link and I truly regret it, cos you've lost your identity! So now I'm reverting back to your old name.
Thanks for still being here with me, although technically, I'm the one who is keeping you alive. lol. Look at me, talking to my blog. Fancy that madness huh.
mwahs
Here's a bittersweet yet hopeful song. March on through this life!
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