Writing is just chicken soup for my soul.

I chose to blog.
At this time last year, I am like a dozen posts ahead of what I have clocked now. Maybe I lose the desire to write as often, maybe I lose the words to express myself, maybe somethings... should be left unwritten. Still, blogging is a good habit to sustain. And bloggin has been a faithful and reliable 'soulmate' on this literal journay so far. On a personal gratification, I documented phases and happenings in my life which I can reflect or reminiscence on later. I learn, practise and increase my vocabulary for better articulation of thoughts. I leave traces of inner sentiments and thoughts for others to know/blast the real me. I allow my faithful readers to have periodic updates on my life. Best of all, it makes me feel that I am not alone.

I do not have a mental condition (or so I believe), but sometimes the channeling of thoughts to putting them into words feels like I am relating my story to myself. In a nutshell, I like talking to myself. Though if such act is being replicate in physical terms, I would be deemed a nutcase. But seriously, who understands me better than myself? And through the mental tussle between the good and evil within, I withhold the balance,faith and strength to live out my life, hopefully a better person. Maybe I am blessed with this innate ability to self-heal, self-reproach and self-correct...and instilled with ethical upbringing, blogging is like having a imaginary fren to keep me guided. Not all likes to write, and some writes for lesser reasons. As long as it serve your purpose, keep writing. The placement of words in carefully-structured sentences are such delight! When utilized to the best of its maximum capacity, English is such a beautiful language! Not that I will purposefully write rhetorically for impressionable reasons though, but the right words do convey more accurate reflections of my state of mind, giving emotions and visuals than just plain, cold texts. But there are days when the brain juz can't conjure any suitable words for elaboration, and I simply sounded crude, vulgar or even ah-bengish. I can stare blankly at an empty post draft for hours, while the brain spins hectically to drop the first words. It's like me refusing to listen or talk to myself...hahah..you won't believe how tormented I feel afterwards, being 'rejected' by myself.

Some have told me to include visuals to spice up my blog. Unless very necessary, when words can't replicate the exact intensity of that particular moment, this blog will stay the way it is. I consciously avoid uploading pictures of myself or mates in case of unwarranted implications. And on this virtual platform in cyberspace, it's still best to remain virtual.


I might be juz a nick, juz another blogger, juz another site. But Sam is as real as you can get.