July222008
I can't write
I realize, as I read, and I write. that really I can’t write. I don’t have the drive in me to write and the thoughts that gather in my mind don’t want to be put into written form. When I was much younger, like my 12 year old cousin, I used to write short short stories and I used to jorunal. My dad once took me to Sentosa to explore the magic grove something-or-other so that I could enter my story in a children’s writing competition.
Even writing this, I have the urge to hit the backspace button and hold off to another day. I’m fighting this urge to send these words back to my head alone. But these words are just fleeting aren’t they? Floating on the world wide web stored in some cache somewhere. I have to run. Work calls.