“My life has been the poem I would have writ
But I could not both live and utter it.”
~Henry David Thoreau
OK, I can’t remember the last time I wrote on this blog. I could check, but I already know that it’s been too darn long. I keep a journal, but as a writer (or a “writing enthusiast” as I call myself now because I don’t think I deserve to be called a writer just yet, even though I make a living out of writing and managing writers), I miss forcing myself into organized thoughts before putting it into words as I have zero discipline when I am my own audience. So now I am going to try again. Been meaning to try again for months, but everything’s been so wonderfully busy and exciting and adventurous that I allowed myself to just enjoy the moment, to cherish the experiences without consciously putting words to every action, every color, every emotion that will look good on paper. I have committed the last year to memory, and now I’m ready to tell the stories.
In the coming weeks (I hope), I will be posting recounts of what kept me busy in the past year up to the present. I wanted to document everything before I forget some of the fun parts. I wanted to have this blog to look back on in the same way I did today when I read a few of my past entries, cringing at my grammar errors and my overly dramatic younger self, full of angst, determination, and hope.
The year 2015 has been good to me, and I hope you could join me in looking back at some of its highlights!