No. I'm not a writing material.
I'm not even an expressive kind of person. Not in recent years. I kept too much things to myself. The only journal/diary I remember writing is about the daily things I've did in school, or at home. And that was like, 20 years ago. It stopped not long after. I don't see a point to it.
So. Me? Writing?
I wasn't sure. I was reluctant at first. My recent broke up had gotten me back into writing. People had suggested me to write about my feelings, if I can't in real life. But this blog isn't rants about how sad I am about the break up. Enough people had done that already. This is basically how I see life. About everything.
But how do I even start?
What should I even write about?
Do people even care what I write, or what other people writes?
Should I reveal myself?
Or should I keep my anonymity?
Well, Mr. Anonymous. For now. And this is the beginning of a long, short thoughts.