Well, it’s Christmas once again approaching and it’s been few weeks after my declaration of coming back from Hiatus that I realized being trapped into a limbo of lost appetite. I had written nothing still. Once again I longed for a mentor on my quest to coming out into the open of personal journalism. What a poor writer I am.
Coveting a language that is not mine and yet, I’m loving it like I was born to speak it. Or, bound to occupational obligations. And suddenly, there I was standing in the crowd in a world that is completely alien to me. So poor, I have no idea how this paragraph should now cohere with the title I choose in the first place. :^) I’m a little bit amused anyway. Never seemed to care if someone would even bother reading this blog.
I find comfort that I seemed to enslave my fingers to dance along with my mouth as I utter words inside my mind. And my breath, yes my breath is in rhythm with every sentence chained out into my mouth - a crescendo of random constructs.
2 comments:
Sweet, Direct, and lovely. You have future, but not always great writters earn money at the same level their talent is, so enjoy expressing yourself, and let it came along...
muchios gracias margarita :^)
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