i've always wanted to be a good writer, at least its been my dream to write professionally as one. in some sense, i've always
believed that day would never come because of the many obstacles we have in our way. Not every person would become a
journalist and forsake their iron rice bowl just to pursuit a dream that might end up shattered. i was definitely not that person, yet
here i am, writing to my heart's contents because of a subject i'm taking in university.

it took me a long time to comprehend the complexity of what writing is. not something that is base truly on your will and writing, that
there are many times you feel like giving up out of the humility and degradation you have to face in this field. really, sometimes everything
seems to be worthless, almost becoming a nil, inexistent. in fact, writing is for you to utilize and mould out your writing in terms of fiction,
how you manipulate fact into fiction, where your characters are what you observe in daily life and morph into something incredibly different.
it took me a long long time to understand this. i felt adamant why i could not express my ideas, let people know my thoughts. instead,
the requirement was for me to write fiction, that was it. fiction. not dictatorial, not mm written all over the pages, but rather to show creativity.

itz really a one sided thing and if your not flexible, like me, it seems almost an impossible thing to do. but even old dogs learn new tricks. i've
been there, done that. watching my parents pathetically attempt to be internet-savy, watching my own reflection in the mirror as i tried desperately
to tie my hair in plaits. people need time to adjust, to change. not everything goes as smoothly as we want it to be. really. it never would be.