Restart

I have a handful of reasons why I decided to engage myself into writing. It is no longer clear to me of the exact time when I put an interest to literature particularly in writing; but from then on, it never slip away from me the thinking that one of these days – surely before the death turns on me – I shall have a great part of my life specially allotted to satisfy this passion. That is when I’ll be able to write those events around that best catch my attention, when I’ll be able to express what I’ve been wishing people to know and understand, and simply when every single thing I know and happens that worth remembering whether healthy such as happiness, pleasure, fun, feeling of contentment and acquiring new knowledge or those not helping causes of pain from anger, envy and boredom to isolation would naturally pour down and let out.

Some may interpret it as soft and inappropriate for a man; but it would end up not the real issue. I have this awareness that I am incapable of just setting it aside for a moment or for a lifetime. It is one thing I know that makes me feel better than what I feel every earlier and leaves me a feeling of genuine contentment. It is one of happiness I know in my life; and I’m getting insane if I let myself forgetting this interest.