When I was just a kid, they let me believe that, like my Mom, I’ll be a writer. After realizing that I am fond of books / literature /diaries and that I was able to write 50+ mushy poems, 1 short story and 4 articles from grade school to fresh college years, I started to believe that – Yeah, I am / I’ll be a writer!

But then again, I’m not. And can never be. Even if I got not-so-bad grades in English / Lit subjects and failed most of Math, Structures & Algorithms – still I am not good at it. My tenses & conjunctions are confuse. I have severe writer’s block disease and few years before this entry I didn’t know what albeit and fortitude means. Yay.

Sad, but I can never be like Mom. Sorry that she died young, and that I cannot continue her dreams. They would say, “Oh, you’re like your Mama…” I refuse to believe. There’s a big difference actually. She finished a degree in English/Lit, graduated as Magna Cum Laude, published short stories, poems, a book, and got married at 23 // while I, took an IT degree, graduated w/o honors, joined rock alternative band, became a web designer /programmer, now 23+ and not yet married.

So I guess, I’ll just design. Maybe write some, read more… but make it as a career? Ahm no, thank you.