Many people think of me as an open book. Blame it to me talking too much at times and trusting easily even to new people I’ve just conversed with, it’s as if I have told everyone how colourful my life is. What remains hidden to these spectators, however, is my tendencies of seclusion especially when things turn out quite chaotic than what should be. And whenever understanding seems too elusive, I find refuge in writing.

Besides consciously organising random thoughts, writing has been a unique way of talking to myself. The world becomes more challenging day by day. Changes happen, whether wanted or unwanted. Issues of motivation, trust and capabilities hound any growing individual. These concerns, more often than not, are being faced simultaneously as we struggle to keep up with the things happening in the macro. Thus, there is a need for humans to consistently know where the change comes from, identify what triggers it and understand how that particular change can actually serve for one’s betterment and the contribution of such betterment to the community.

That’s the reason I have been keeping to continue writing even if many of these thoughts left unpublished or are simply being random. I am hungry (and at the same time thrilled) to understand how my inner universe works and the changes it has been undergoing.

But writing isn’t all about heaven. Honestly, I am disappointed. I have been writing since I was young and, although I have the potential, I feel stagnancy. I have been failing to regularly update blogs and private electronic journals despite having OneNote and Springpad. I pride of storing different ideas and I yearn to explain these to people (even if these sound weird) but, most of the time, I struggle on putting my thoughts into words. It’s hard to select what to blog about and how to write it.

Believe me, writing is difficult for me. I cannot even see myself writing for a living!

Either I need more practice or I should read more. Perhaps both.

Today (at the time of writing: tonight) is my last day of being bum.

Despite having a previous employer, the Day-One-at-Work eve still has the magic to inject a feeling of a fresh graduate. I’m anxious on this new start in a field unimaginable to me years ago. I can’t help thinking about my capabilities to adjust to a new surrounding. Where my skills would take me and what’s in store for me in the coming days remain unknown. Inhibitions haunt me. Yet I’m welcoming this particular opportunity, with dreams intact to ensure self-development and to aid others in helping themselves. I am willing to re-start, to rehabilitate the damaged me and to improve what I have even if it means an uncanny mix of joy and pain.

I’m ready to gradually handle varying responsibilities, to become less negative, to discover what I want to be, to realise things I have envisioned myself with, to be frustrated and to re-start again if needed. Through charting the life I have lived and applying every lesson to take the yet unearthed path, learning won’t be compromised.

I believe in myself–and in my talent to re-discover myself. If I need to use another name, so be it.

Okay, I have been random again. In an attempt to fully make sense on this page, I need an interesting theme where my posts revolve. I hope to determine it very soon–and yes, find time.