And so they say,
everybody needs a hobby. May some find comfort in doing productive stuffs such
as crochet, cooking, graphic designs, internet porn, staring at a goat all day,
wondering if
chupakabras and unicorns are real or watching ancient aliens
 |
| Well, this is awkward |
in national
geographic, while others just find it relaxing to smother other people for no
reasons at all (Seriously? Who does that?). So then I found writing. Yeah, I know…
I confess my English is not that great. In fact, my grammar just comes back and
forth and it is in a matter of mood. Sometimes, I find it very good when I feel so
Poe-ish, Swift-ish, Golding-ish, or Burgess-ish. But when the world around me
suffers in a terrible fucked-up seizure, my words can never be any better than
a steaming pile of horsecrap (it seems weird, I tried to right-click the word “horsecrap”
in MS-word because it is underlined with red shit. I thought at first that I should
separate the two words but when I right clicked it, it suggested “horse rap”…
hahaha, classic). But hey, why not give it a shot? As if writing could make my
life miserable.
You know, I am not a vocal person in terms of my comments about
the world and all the crap I see around (although some of my friends knows me as
a noisy type. But honestly, 90% of what I am saying most of the time is
completely nonsense and I am aware of that. That’s because I don’t want them to
discover the truth: I am a ninja who works at a secret underground laboratory
led by an evil mastermind came from the planet Nibiru who is tasked to annihilate
the corrupt government officials throughout the galaxy). And the only way I found
to release all this uneasy thoughts inside me is through writing.
