The words they tumble forth
Rabble rousing with no hope
Forsaken is the art of idle thought
Seeking meaning when it can't be got
I'm unabashedly a pathetic sod
So forgive me if i sound rather odd
If writing this is what will get me to fill this blank space, then so be it. I've been itching to write something here but fear mixed with futility deters me. To be honest with myself (at the very least), one of my biggest fears of writing has been that it will confirm what has been acknowledged by my dearest friends-- I am dyslexic. My spellings are ummm creative, grammar pathetic and vocabulary limited. This doesn't do much for my own self-confidence, partly compensated by my rather apologetic sense of being. Ask me to write about objective, hard topics on politics, governance and i can do a pretty decent covering act. But a personal blog and all i can muster is a few garbled sentences, carelessly put together.
Anyways, something in me this year is asking me to write. Call it my inner voice or conscience but it is really quite persuasive. So here i am typing away when i actually should be working. Yes, i have been shirking work since 2008. I am essentially the kind of worker who needs a kick-in-the-butt to set the ball rolling. Who isn't? All we white-collar NGO workers have is a neutered sense of idealism (rightfully) and downsized convictions. 7 years of this life and i'm done--cynicism included. Hopefully 2015 shall see less of pent-up frustration and more of genuine ambition.
(Yay! this space is almost full. Happiness.)
Rabble rousing with no hope
Forsaken is the art of idle thought
Seeking meaning when it can't be got
I'm unabashedly a pathetic sod
So forgive me if i sound rather odd
If writing this is what will get me to fill this blank space, then so be it. I've been itching to write something here but fear mixed with futility deters me. To be honest with myself (at the very least), one of my biggest fears of writing has been that it will confirm what has been acknowledged by my dearest friends-- I am dyslexic. My spellings are ummm creative, grammar pathetic and vocabulary limited. This doesn't do much for my own self-confidence, partly compensated by my rather apologetic sense of being. Ask me to write about objective, hard topics on politics, governance and i can do a pretty decent covering act. But a personal blog and all i can muster is a few garbled sentences, carelessly put together.
Anyways, something in me this year is asking me to write. Call it my inner voice or conscience but it is really quite persuasive. So here i am typing away when i actually should be working. Yes, i have been shirking work since 2008. I am essentially the kind of worker who needs a kick-in-the-butt to set the ball rolling. Who isn't? All we white-collar NGO workers have is a neutered sense of idealism (rightfully) and downsized convictions. 7 years of this life and i'm done--cynicism included. Hopefully 2015 shall see less of pent-up frustration and more of genuine ambition.
(Yay! this space is almost full. Happiness.)
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