Jcyf94's Blog

I am not a very good writer. I never pretend to be a good writer. I might never become a good writer. I do not mind not being a good writer.

I write because it has always come natural to me. I am starting to blog again three and a half years after my first attempt because it gives me an illusion that I am having a conversation with someone, and that itself has its healing property. It would be an added bonus if I am lucky enough to receive any genuine feedbacks or to establish any sort of meaningful communication, even with vague knowledge of the Darwinistic nature of the biosystem in this virtual habitat.

Against my better judgement, I am probably taking an unwise risk. To start a blog that is neither commercial in natural nor focused in a specific, non-personal subject is a double-edge sword. To let parts of myself know to strangers would either help myself get through difficulties that seem impossible to cope with, or risk attracting malicious attempts by unknowns to exploit my character traits and manipulate my thoughts and behaviors. From personal experiences, people do it either purely for fun, or for personal gains, monetary or intangible, that would most likely be detrimental to my name, my reputaion and even my physical and mental health in various degrees.

I might appear to be weak, pathetic and prime to be a prey to admit I do feel lonely often and that writing has helped me endure various agony in life that would be otherwise unspeakable and unbearable. Whether using a pen on paper or a keyboard in cyberspace, I apply that which is proven helpful to attempt to pick myself up by the bootstrap with my meager strengths. Maybe I would experience the similarly nightmarish encounters and results as I did continuously before; maybe restarting blogging is an act of tempting fate. The flashback of fright and trembles still lingers, and it obviously shows as covering fear has never been suuposed to an easy task.

I still believe wounds and trauma could be healed, and the power of language could heal with as much might and strength as it had proven to inflict pain and cause damages.

I hope it is a new start and a new day. I still cannot change my idealist within.

I am not a very good writer. I never pretend to be a good writer. I might never become a good writer. I do not mind not being a good writer.

I write because it has always come natural to me. I am starting to blog again three and a half years after my first attempt because it gives me an illusion that I am having a conversation with someone, and that itself has its healing property. It would be an added bonus if I am lucky enough to receive any genuine feedbacks or to establish any sort of meaningful communication, even with vague knowledge of the Darwinistic nature of the biosystem in this virtual habitat.

Against my better judgement, I am probably taking an unwise risk. To start a blog that is neither commercial in natural nor focused in a specific, non-personal subject is a double-edge sword. To let parts of myself know to strangers would either help myself get through difficulties that seem impossible to cope with, or risk attracting malicious attempts by unknowns to exploit my character traits and manipulate my thoughts and behaviors. From personal experiences, people do it either purely for fun, or for personal gains, monetary or intangible, that would most likely be detrimental to my name, my reputaion and even my physical and mental health in various degrees.

I might appear to be weak, pathetic and prime to be a prey to admit I do feel lonely often and that writing has helped me endure various agony in life that would be otherwise unspeakable and unbearable. Whether using a pen on paper or a keyboard in cyberspace, I apply that which is proven helpful to attempt to pick myself up by the bootstrap with my meager strengths. Maybe I would experience the similarly nightmarish encounters and results as I did continuously before; maybe restarting blogging is an act of tempting fate. The flashback of fright and trembles still lingers, and it obviously shows as covering fear has never been suuposed to an easy task.

I still believe wounds and trauma could be healed, and the power of language could heal with as much might and strength as it had proven to inflict pain and cause damages.

I hope it is a new start and a new day. I still cannot change my idealist within.