Last night, I wrote 5 entries. None I published. *Imagine a fashion designer/writer/artist, creating her masterpiece but is not satisfied with it and tears apart her drawing block and throws shattered pieces of paper in the air.*
I didn’t like what I wrote because it’s about the same old sad stories. I don’t want my life to be like that.
I can be a very simple person. Like an ice cream will make my day if you know what flavours I like. And it’s not hard to know what my favourite flavour is. Chocolate, my friend. The mighty chocolate.
But over the weeks, I find nothing in particular to write about. Can’t even find a simple thing to be happy about because everything seemed to irritate me.
This morning I lied on the bed till 12 noon or slightly beyond that just thinking. Usually, I will not have problems sleeping but when I stay up like that when I’m supposed to be asleep or when I’m supposed to be awake, something is troubling me. *Imagine a fashion designer/writer/artist, trying to get some inspiration in creating her masterpiece, digging deep into her deepest soul.*
I thought and I thought and I think I have the answer. I trust my inner voice. This inner voice has been telling me things right from the beginning and I always turn it down. Today, the voice seemed louder. So loud, I cannot pretend I didn’t hear it and this time I wouldn’t turn it down.
This time I didn’t consult my senior advisor for advice. I mean my dad. I just told him what I’m going to do and he asked why. I told him about the instincts thing. He went, “Ahh! Instincts! Okay!”
You know why I love him so much? Because he supports in everything that I do.
My mum is equally worried about me like dad but she worries more. Well, maybe worrying is not the word. She likes to imagine.
Like how she would ask me, “Eh, got or not?”
She’s not talking about if I’ve got a new job. But if I have found someone.
Got or not?
And then, she’ll tell me. If you have a baby, I’ll take care of him/her when you go to work. Problem is I don’t have a baby.
I’ll tell you more tomorrow. About that something, triggered by the something called instincts.