Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Saturday, June 12, 2010
I noticed that I often write things, I have inspiration to actually write a novel, but I end up not finishing anything, not even a single completed writing accomplished. And I know the very one reason why. I don’t have anything valuable, worth to read kind of thing in my writings—I called it, lesson. Without lessons, a story is just another story to forget; just another story that people see with an eye, or even not seen at all, it’s like dining on an empty plate in a five star hotel—you felt the experience of a fine dining, but you don’t feel the satisfaction from the food.
A story, a good writings are a combinations of stories and lessons, put together, mingled in sometimes directly to tell you things exactly as it is; or it can be very subtle than you noticed it when you really read and feel the words and the dialogues and the silent gestures you made up in your mind. Savour the moments of reading—it’s a good line, I love it.
I am a man, but I have to admit that most men don’t read, I’m not talking rubbish, I don’t make the statistics too but I pretty much know from my experience. From a little child I am always fond of books. I love a book with a lot of cartoons, words in big-prints and the colours—I just can’t let go. And when I’m big enough to have my own pocket money, going into a bookstore felt like diving in a pool party, or playground, or karaoke box—basically anything fun. I always love bookstores, but I don’t have that much money to buy everything I like, everything I would love to lay my hands on to read. No, I don’t. Easier picture would be, maybe those kinds of feelings the women felt when designer clothes were sold on half-price.
What about them, I mean, the book, what make them so good? I don’t know. I don’t exactly know how to describe them; it’s just felt good and right. I wish I could own them, and be in it forever! I don’t mind that sometimes entering a large bookstore felt like entering a maze, I don’t mind not getting out. MPH, Kinokuniya, and my all-time favourite, Borders, they all got these attractions that are so ineffable!
As much as I love reading and books and writing, I didn’t as much wanted to be a writer. Although I often fantasized of being a famous book writer, and then my books being adapted to movies, I just thought of writings as an activity to fill up my free times. But who knows right? I might end up being a writer!
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
So what was this dream I was talking about, what was my mission? You see, I was a normal kid too, I was allowed to watch the TV when I’m done with my homework. But unlike normal kids, I didn’t watch cartoons; I watch what my parents like to watch—the news, the soap operas, the sitcoms so not for children that my mom had to close my eyes with her hands so I didn’t watch those parts(as if I don’t even know what making out is). So I grew up watching the city life, a big city’s life, although, I was quite well to know that some were very fictional(I couldn’t find Gotham city in the world’s map). And that was my dream, a dream later I would regret. But for a country boy like me, I could just picture a whole lot of fun and comfort, not the other side of it.