I thought of the protestations of my dreams, and how to go about them. Faith was the start from it, but there were setbacks accrued from wrong friendships and bad choices. Sometimes I lacked confidence, and the drive for those goals dwindled down because of the negative words of a few monsters in my past.
However the distraught, I seemed to return to my love of language. Turning catacombs inside my nightmares into honeycombs inside my mind. Transforming doleful prose into sparks of enlightenment and clever opinions that were fun to read and critique. My morning meditations came with outlines and donuts of scenes eatable to my empty pages.
My love for languages began with Bahasa Indonesia and English as my second language. The promethean spirit inside me awoke with stories and journeys of fantasy, folktales, dramatics and thrillers, and I never stopped.
I knew that with the setbacks, years must develop and I needed patience for the waiting game. But, the love kept transforming and evolving, then growing and revolutionizing. It was difficult for me to contain, thus this blog. Perhaps too personal, but what writer skipped characterization and conflict? I had to ignore the criticisms, for the sake of my mental health, but I won't stop writing.