I promised myself to write.
I was told once or twice that I have an interesting life, or at least know how to turn the dull one into something a tad more interesting. Now I want to start sharing them.
I have been trying to write more diary, memoir, notes or even lab books. It always starts with getting really bored during holiday, going to the closest hipster-esque stationary shop, getting a Moleskine, dropping by at a coffee shop (preferably Starbucks) to fill it up for few pages. The filling routine normally fades away after few days, when LIFE actually kicks in?
But I do see the need of writing and most importantly communicating the writings now. Because people are writing less. The number of time that we actually start thinking to write and the length of the writing itself. Even though that’s not really resentful if you’re the population of NOW with Instagram’s and Facebook’s feeds BUKAKE’d all over your faces, people who crave for good writing that come out of normal people’s lives like mine are starving.
It’s true. There isn’t much economy of scale when it comes to writing.
We do not really enjoy the benefits of writing a long ass piece of crap as much as numerous small pieces of crap. Since we were gonna be shallowly writing and people are going to be shallowly reading in the first place, why don’t we earn our “likes” more industrially efficient by making shit tons of “I’m so tired :P #ThisIsWorkingLife” instead? A person with an idle mind like me begs to differ. I want a longer piece of writing. MORE!
And that’s why I write. Because statistically there exist people like me out there.
I know, for a lot of honorable writers out there, I’m just another dickhead trying to do what I’m not educated to, let alone being meant to do it. You would probably can tell by now English isn't my primary tongue. It just looks better on Medium than our weird curly thingy. But I believe there’re people out there who will enjoy my random thoughts and how I look at my lab rat lifestyle.