So what's the purpose of me, writing?
I kicked start my writing involvement during my school time. I was invited by a friend to write in his underground zine. I was writing on the Malaysian's mainstream revolution in Bahasa. For a sixteen years old stud whose experience came only from the two hours a week Bahasa classes, I think I've nailed it.
But it was ruled out due to the lack of funds and some problems. So the zine project was never happened and my articles was left rotten in my school's examination pad.
And I stopped writing since then.
2008, when Tony Pua win the 12th General Election, I start to learn what blogspot is.
I created mine. I blogged about everything I see, I heard, I read and I think. From footballs to love to girls to movies to songs to bands and to et cetera. I make my own poem, write my own song, provoking a stupid roomante but all in all, I READ MY OWN WRITING.
I READ MY OWN WRITING. FUCK! I READ MY OWN WRITING. FUCK! I READ MY OWN WRITING. FUCK! I READ MY OWN WRITING. FUCK! I READ MY OWN WRITING. FUCK! I READ MY OWN WRITING. FUCK!!
That's when I ask myself why am I writing for god sake?
I have to have a reader. Or maybe two. Three. I need readers to keep on writing. I think the stupidest person in the blogsphere is those who said they write only for themselves. Seriously go find a fucking paper or fucking private those blog!
Ok. I don't know you but I do. I need people to read what I write.
There's a number friends ask why didn't I put a single advertising gadgets on my blog. I gave them a very cliche answer.
"I don't write for money."
Because I don't think anything I write here worth a single penny.
I am a grammars freak. I didn't scored any of my BEL subject during my time at UiTM. Neither did I get a 6 for my MUET paper. I bet you guys will enjoy correcting my grammar mistakes than understand what I fucking write.
But I believe that it's not only grammar what's matter. It's more than that.
That everything I write here is a thought I opted to share. And when I say I opted to share, it means that it is always an option to read.
Having said that doesn't mean I am neglecting all the grammar aspects. I am working my sweet asses to that.
To find the right word to express between an anger and sad. To differ what has happened and what is yet to. To come out clean. To achieve the perfection.
Only time will come and tell.
But not now. Never. Because this time, I'm writing to keep myself awake. So my supervisor won't knocked my table and gave me don't-you-fucking-sleep grin.
