I love writing. I write about anything and everything. I love hearing stories about experiences and fairytales from other people. I love writing my own stories. I can express all I feel by writing it. That’s one of the main reasons why I made this blog. When I’m bored or doing homework, I write. 

When I was a kid, I used to write all kinds of stuff. I write essays, songs and stories. I had (or still have) an imaginative and creative mind. I used to play with anything, example, using paper clips as keys and used checks as money. I even got a plastic, wrapped my leg in it and just crawl in the floor and pretend that I’m a mermaid. I just realized now that I had a great childhood, goofing off and just having fun.

When I was about 9, I deleted ALL my stories because I thought it was junk and worthless. I still regret doing that till’ now. I should’ve believed that, with some improvement, those useless stories could’ve been good ones. So, I started writing again when I was in 5th grade, persuaded by my bestfriend. I first wrote something about the environment. It was for a contest I was planning to join at school. I think I wrote something about a blind girl that heard so many stories about how great the world was and how colorful it was. She dreamed to see it someday. After years, she got an eye surgery and it was a success. But when she finally saw the world, it was dirty and polluted and, basically, the opposite of what she heard. Well, that’s all I remember about it. Too bad I didn’t pass it. I wrote a lot of stories after that but I think I deleted it as well. 

Now, more challenges come to me. I think that I’m no writer at all. That I’m just an insane girl that could never write anything good and worth anything. Negative things enter my mind when I see my classmates writing much better essays than mine. Last year, I was in journalism class and I was failing. I hated it. I felt I was never good at all. I won at some Easter Sunday essay contest because we were only 2 contestants and well.. 

I even feel that right now, having only 1 true follower that used to listen to my complaints about life and my other essays. But, now, she’s been quiet and well.. ignoring me.. sorta.. anyways. I don’t think that I’m a great writer. But, I should think that. I should keep on writing even if the world is against it. It’s my hobby and pastime and I’m keeping it.

So, if ever someone is reading this, keep on doing whatever you do for there is no one who has the right to say you’re not good enough, even yourself. 




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