I went to read my old writings this afternoon. I definitely had a crush on R! Now I don’t have those feelings anymore, so I feel my writings about R seem so innocent and hilarious. I wrote a short story about R in the 3rd person, and it goes like, “N did this and she was …”. The romantic story was stupid, but it was sincere. Do I want to keep my private thoughts private, or do I want to share something interesting about myself with the rest of the world, even if it might be embarrassing? I guess I will never know unless I post it.

But is it interesting at all? Did I really think he was cute? Perhaps it was just an illusion — sometimes people have illusions when they want something. The desire of something makes us overlook the reality. Just like Bridget was attracted to her boss in the movie; an attraction exists, but it may be nothing more than an attraction. I just find my old writings to be so honest that it moves me. I can see how an emotion was real for me at the time, and how it doesn’t matter to the least to me now.

A new understanding about what writing is, writing is not a choice for me. If I can’t write, I can’t think. If I can’t think, I can’t function. It’s not a question of choosing what I want to do; writing is a necessity. However, it is a choice for me to want to be better at it. I get the feeling that I am just afraid of failure, and that’s the challenge of writing for me. I am getting tired of my self-doubt: I feel like writing, but I am not sure if I should share my writing with others.

I checked out the person who gave me a like for my blog post, and gave her a like on her post. I quickly went through her posts about writing. She wrote about her reflections on becoming a writer, and it was similar to my own reflections. I read the comments, too. The people who commented basically the same feelings about writing themselves: everyone is trying to write, but not sure if their writing is any good, and if they will ever have their stories published, and so on.

Emotions are temporary. Human interaction drains me. I can’t help it but to point out what I find to be a logical inconsistency even if my question might annoy people. I cannot take my mind off of a problem when I intuitively sense something is off. I want to know why it’s off. It’s the only way I know how to function — or the only way I can function. Is it a curse? I set out to find my own truth.

My piano teacher was surprised when I played well on the part where I couldn’t play well last week. I was surprised by her being surprised. It was quite embarrassing for me actually, because then I knew she didn’t expect me to get it right. Even though I can’t play the piano well, I always think I’ve learned so much from taking the lesson other than just making sounds out of a keyboard.