As I was cleaning my room, I saw my old journal under my bed as if it was waiting for someone to pick it up. This journal I’m talking lists almost all of the events in my life during my fourth year high school. Long have I not seen my journal since I graduated and reading it made me realize how bitter-sweet my life back then. Well, this post will not talk mainly of my life-back-then, but about how I started to "write".
It was summer that time. I did not know what was running on my mind when I decided to buy a notebook (maybe mainly because of its design). I then started writing about myself and about what I had done for the day…everyday.
Since high school, I’ve been trying to write anything that I could think of, provided that it is fair, in order to at least somehow improve my English. All this time I’m trying really hard to fix my broken tongue in this language. If someone talks to me using this, I feel I’m at a lost for words even though I could think of something to utter. Reading’s not a problem to me; I’ve been reading since. But, when it comes to writing, I’m always clogged; and in terms of speaking, I’m only on my best when I memorize the piece.
Well, I think that is the essence of practice. I don’t expect this to be perfect; I just want to write.
Oh wait……Oh no, I just remember…. We will have a quiz tomorrow in our major subject!
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