I want to cry.
I'm envious of others.
They possess something which i can't.
Not about luxury or being rich.
Not about physical possession.
I'm envious how people can push themselves,
until they own a ruling passion.
which i have no idea what on earth is my passion,
i hate it,
I live my life based on people's direction,
they told to do this and that.
I know...
They want the best for me,
but i can't make up my own mind about what i'm into.
Some of my friends love to write.
They write novels, short stories and also comics.
They even know how to draw.
One of my friend love to baking and crafting.
They have a clear goals in their mind.
Me?
I know how to draw.
It's different when you just know how to do something
and be really good at it.
Considering myself to be good in drawing is an insult to artists.
Honestly, i can draw and quite...love to draw..
but not sure my excitement is not enough
or i'm just loses a momentum.
loses a stamina and energy.
Writing? Seems like i suffer a permanent mental block.
I can't even write a simple sentence.
Writing a sentence with a beautiful language, proper
vocabulary and grammar are mind boggling.
When i'm 12 year-old...
i tried to write. I wrote stories...
but people making fun of my stories.
then i quit. I thought i had no talent in writing.
I love to imagine plot or story line in my mind,
but my mind went numb when i try to write.
Crafting? My hand as hard as a wood.
Then the craft went messy.
When i was a kid, i love to do hand-craft.
but.....not anymore.
I loved the feeling when my friends asking me to do the craft on their bookcover.
I still remember, i loved the feeling when the teacher compliment your creativity.
right now, that is the most boring activity to be done.
I easily lose patience when dealing with activities which need to be scrutinize
and take a lot of time.
For sure, i love baking and cooking.
but not sure how far this passion will lead me to.
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