Insecurities and all.

I write to impress, not just to express.

Yeah. You’ve read it right. It is not the cliché line of real writers who are really into writing. I’ll be a hypocrite if I say I follow the cliché.

Funny, indeed.

But yes, that happens to me all the time.

I’ll plan writing and when I do it, my focus turns left rather than where I was really going. Before I write, I have all this aim to express myself, what I feel and what I want to shout out in a way that I am comfortable with. But then again, as I write, I tend to restrict myself with things that somehow pull me out of my comfort. I tend to think what other people would think of me after they’ve read my article. I feel conscious of what they would tell about my writing, the style, the composition, the coherence in every paragraph, the grammar and all. I am so afraid that they would judge my work and me as a writer. I’m afraid that they would question my skills in writing. Yes, I know it a lot. There will always be people who would see glitches and errors in everything that you do. But that’s it. That is exactly it.

Criticisms. Yes, I know that not all criticisms are thrown to you to make you hate yourself or your skill or your work. Constructive criticisms, as we call it. Unfortunately, I am overly sensitive enough that I find it hard to accept even these ‘constructive’ criticisms. I do get deeply overwhelmed hearing compliments and positive feedbacks but at the same time, I feel horrible whenever I hear criticisms, may it be constructive or not.

Yes, I am too sensitive. I will get into me throughout the day. Yes, that’s how fragile I am.

That is probably one of my weaknesses as a writer — insecurity. I can see how it limits me on the words I want to write and the thoughts I want to let out of my head. This is probably the heavy baggage I’ve been wanting to unload. But I just can’t.

I don’t know if it’s stupid or something that even the things I write in my diary, the words I write, are words that are chosen like as if someone would read it even though I know that it is for my eyes only since it is a diary, personal diary. Of course, duh.

See? How ugh!

Envy. I envy people who are well-versed with their skills in writing. I envy those people who can write stories and anecdotes with coherent paragraphs. I envy them who find playing with words a piece of cake. Those who effortlessly drag words into their sentences and make it look flawless and clear. I envy those who have the skills to get their message across without putting too much effort on it. I even ask the question ‘How’ over and over again whenever I see their posts on Facebook and blogs. How can I be like them? When will I ever do the same effortlessly? How can I write flawlessly without checking similar posts from Twitter or Google? How can I pull words together without too much struggle?

Now I’m realizing how pathetic this post is. Haha. All these things I’ve been carrying for the past months have been a burden indeed that I should have written a lot of posts already. I failed to get away with these things and until now, I’m still struggling to pull myself away from them.

Hopefully, this post could jumpstart my upcoming posts with less insecurity.

I want to write a lot. I want to write about everything I see, smell, taste, hear, and most especially, about the things I feel. I want to vent out all the hatred, insecurity, anger, joy, excitement, EVERYTHING, in the most comfortable way I can. I want to write without restrictions from myself. I want to write freely not thinking what other people would say about me or to how I write and even to what I write. It’s my style, it’s what I feel, and it is what I want to let out.



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