A story, a start.
I do occasionally write English posts. This one is from a writing class I’m taking. As I still am in the coming-of-age process, I do hope writing will make me a better person intellectually and spiritually. But things take time and it’s a start so bear with me if you can.
Most things in the world are consequences of consequences of consequences. I guess that’s how the story begins.
When I was a little child, I was able to notice how different I am from other kids my age. Instead of running wild on the streets, I spend time with my toy box, breaking things down then joining them together, trying, experimenting with how things work. I was what some people may call a born geek.
Then I went to school, made new friends and started to find girls attractive.As a kid who was itching to get noticed, I tried numerous ways to make myself visible to girls. The smart kid gets the girls, they say. I started writing tales of gorgeous ladies and honorable knights in a lords-and-dragons-filled world. All of the fairy tales that I’d read suddenly came so handy as they morphed, blossomed and manifested themselves in my little creative process. I was so proud of it. But ultimately, my plan failed and with it went all my enthusiasm for writing. For long, writing has been a nightmare for me throughout schooldays. I had to crawl in the rules, structures and ideas people try to implant in my mind. Almost anything I wrote is met with criticism and I became afraid of articulating words.
So I decided to stop writing anything at all and focus all my energy into what I am good at the most: engineering. For a while, my appetite for knowledge has been amply fed as I skim, dig, crunch through all the wiki pages and programmer’s guides I can find. All hard, dry and solid. I lock and content myself in this digital life of mine thinking that’s all I’ll ever need in life and that people writing long, thought-provoking posts are nothing but fame-craving wretches.
Over the time, this has taken an unhealthy toll on my personal life. The most horrifying moment was when I had a fight with my girlfriend, who majors in literature, unfortunately. She wrote a lengthy email expressing her concerns and disappointment in me. And I can only sit there, stuck wordless as all these years of aversion and procrastination sum up in this single moment. I didn’t write back. Even if I had, what she received would only have been broken, stuttered sentence fragments. Luckily, we didn’t break up. But I fear we would soon if I didn’t have the guts to change myself.
So, princesses, castles and journeys then. It’s still the same thing I once took pride in, just now in a different light.