I hate English, but I love writing.
Before the terribly addictive Twitter, Facebook and Myspace networks were out, a blogging site known as a Xanga was in—simple and personal, connective and relatively exciting to receive comments and “eprops.”
I look back at my oldest entry, dating back to February 27, 2004, feeling embarrassed at my awfully poor grammar, disgusted at my childlike diction, tone and attitude, and mortified at my incomprehensible weblogs.
Amidst my English flaws, I continue to blog every free moment I have. Blogging is not like writing an English paper. A typical English prompt might go like this, “Why did the author…,” or “How did the author….”
Truly, I have no clue what was going on in the author’s mind. I receive my essay back—disappointed at myself for writing a summary instead of specific details from the book. And in addition, feeling humiliated to show my grade to other students around, thus quickly covering my paper.
In the world of blogging, there is no right or wrong answer—no one grades you. And readers will see the inner depth of the writer’s soul.
Currently, I write at least an hour for every entry. I enjoy expressing myself in a way I cannot when having a face-to-face conversation. I take pleasure in writing freely, typing every word or expression that crosses my mind without fearing I have said something wrong. And even if I did, there is always a backspace button or an edit option. Furthermore, I believe it is essential to reflect, to see what I should have done or should continue to do.
I really love to write—writing anything out of my own interest. I may not have the best English, store the largest vocabulary words or capable in writing out a clear message, but I truly just love writing. It really helps in the emotional level and friendship level.