Out-of-character Ranting

Good day, everyone!

Hot news! I’ve got a mail!

I want to send my regards to those who’s reading this (and those who isn’t as well). It’s been a long time since I last updated my blog. But today I got an mail, saying a person in this 8-billion-people planet liked one of my old post. Therefore, I decided to update at least about how thrilled I was when I checked that automatic mail.

I am just another writer you’ll be reading, that fact alone saddened me a lot in the past. Since I started writing in high school, I have grown way more ambitious than my very first motive. You can guess why I started writing, right?

I love writing, expressing my ideas, making my imaginations float, playing with words and so on. We can do all those sorts of things with words, imagine how awesome that is!

In high school, my motive was pure as gold can be. Over the years, it wasn’t just writing that satisfied me. I wanted my friends to love the stories I wrote too. My best friend was the best gift I could ask for, while my literature teachers didn’t move a finger to touch my drafts.

A year later, I wanted people to read my stories. I started publishing on different websites. My stories didn’t get much attention. Whenever I got a like or a comment, I couldn’t help feeling happy, as if heaven’s on Earth.

Recently, I’ve been writing on Wattpad, working on my first long novel (or that’s how I proudly call it). Sometimes I get excited over a draft, sometimes not, because my writing sucks. More than that, I hate how I could not get my ideas straight. I am ashamed to admit that I’ve come to dislike my writing more often as the days go by. It isn’t that I stop loving to write, it’s hellish simple, I suck as a writer. And… also I think I have been pretty desperate, looking for someone to notice how lonely it has been for me, as I tread in the deep forest of words.

That’s a lot of ranting. I am grateful to you and I gravely apologize for that.

Now I shall get to business head-on.

It means very much for me, when my writing means something to some of you. I feel very much understood, although it could be the sole making of my idiotic imagination. Anyhow, it’s nice every once in a while, to have somebody in this whole wide world, notices my writer identification.

As you keep reading and writing, and I keep writing and reading, I hope one day, we’ll meet again.

I pretty look forward to it, you know?

Sounds thrilling.