To blog or not to blog, that is the question.

Ever since I have known what a secret diary is, I have always had one with me. Though I wasn’t able to keep any in my twenty-nine years of existence, I just kept writing. There is really no pattern in the way I write, given the fact that I am no nobel prize material. Nor sooner will I write anything that can save the world or finally bring peace to men. Mostly, I just write whatever using my native tongue or my in much-needed polishing English. Quite frankly, the one time my blog got nominated somewhere amongst others much more qualified, came to me as outmost flattery even if it was meant to be a prank or not, which I’d like to believe is the latter.

Maybe it be in paper or through the web, all this time, I just kept on writing.

First, I write for myself because I find it therapeutic. It forces me to think and reflect on whatever is currently occupying my mind. Moreover, it helps me recall things that are relevant to me whenever my memory fails me. Maybe someday, if I find the time, then I can look back and say I did exist and live.

Next, I write for my children and grandchildren. Provided that blogger won’t shutdown me down or I will be able to buy my own space sometime soon (with all the opportunities I have been frantically grabbing), then my thoughts are for them to read and pass on to the next generation. That they may bring me up during family gatherings and discuss my silly thoughts and my oh-so-philosophical outlook in life.

Finally, I write for you. I never really thought about the impact of exposing myself to you for I tend to easily dismiss negative thoughts (and still believe that man by nature is good therefore deserves the benefit of the doubt and initially can be trusted). Just so you can learn from me, cry with me and laugh with me.

I fear to be forgotten. I blog because I do not want to forget who I was, who I am and who I wanted to be. I blog to be remembered. I blog to share myself, if you will have me, with paid post or not.