I am not a writer. I never dreamed that I could put up this blog and write something for you to read on. Read between the lines of misspelled words and grammatical errors that pissed me off. I seldom write, maybe because I felt I don’t have talents and capacity of this too great a dream for me to deal with. Sometimes, I told myself “why are you making a fool of yourself thinking you can do it?” There’s a great reason why I blog because it’s interesting and it’s beyond my capacity, Second housework is so tedious and I love diversions since, I rarely go out to hang up with friends to name a few. With internet connections, Why not?. The big reason is boredom being a mother and jobless spending my whole life taking care of my kids and it’s therapeutic coming from a very stressful situation of my life, It keeps my sanity intact over severe depression. I learn to write and let go of my emotional pain and it heals me through my baggage that I carry on my back, as I let go of my thoughts and emotions to run on the pages of my drafts. It helps me search within my innermost being of what I really wanted from my life. Unconsciously, as I open my sensibilities and my flaws to the public by sharing my fears, my insecurities, and my dreams. It opened a new opportunity to change my situation, I became braver and stronger person, by choosing my true happiness in life, to fight for what I really want. It’s not easy to create a new chapter in my life.
I learn to fight for my right and really fight for it to the end.