Just keep writing. No matter how senseless it appears, never stop writing.

Or no matter how many

errors it has with your initial draft, just keep writing.

I had a realization. For the most part in the past, whenever I write something, whether it would be an
essay or a psychological report, I never fail to feel overwhelmed. Just with the sheer amount of
awareness that I am writing something makes my heart beats fast. I never looked at writing like this
before, quite frankly because I’ve considered myself as someone who’s always on the verge of having a
panic attack. But for the first time, I’ve managed to open another word document, just to put my
thoughts here.

I never liked writing, simply because of how anxious it makes me feel. But it is not the writing that I’m
not fond of, but to appear incomprehensible and difficult to understand. I’m afraid someone will make
fun of my grammar. “What if what I’m writing isn’t cohesive enough?”; ‘What if my ideas are naïve and
appear inconsistent?”; “Do I sound pretentious?”; “Do I only strive to sound smart?”; “Are the number
of words enough for my essay/”; “is this good enough?”. So many questions run through my mind, and
they only point to one thing, my lack of confidence.

It's good to realize that I’m not as uninterested in writing as I thought I am. Writing has been a very
helpful outlet for me. I think it Is therapeutic, but at the same time, I think I’m not capable yet to use it
properly to help myself get back on track. Writing can be taxing. Writing can be consuming. My energy,
my focus, my time? I don’t really care that much about it when it comes to writing, but I think I need to
start considering it as a resource since I am now trying to become a copywriter.

I had a conversation with D last night. He can be pretty harsh. I don’t know want to get into details, but I
think it’s worth a shot. So last night, he was trying to help me realize how lazy and unreasonable I have
become since I left my last job. Just for the sake of telling it, I quit my job as a recruiter almost 6 months
ago. Since then, I’m staying here at home, just thinking of a lot of reasons not to get a job and
convincing myself that everything’s going to be fine even though I’m not doing any concrete action to
solve my problems. WHICH IS A LOT.

A lot to take for me not to take any action. I am easily overwhelmed with issues about making choices
and becoming who I want to be. I struggle hard to keep my focus with my goals and with how I’d want
to achieve them. I feel like my mind is now wandering on its own so I think I may need a break. I want
pancit canton. I’m gonna cook some for myself.

But before I go, I just want to say that this feels nice. Typing my words, and to actually see it here in my
computer. It’s as if I can imagine myself talking in front me, having this friendly conversation wherein I
can listen to myself and be there for myself. It comforts me. I’m starting to like writing even more. For
now, I just want to write. Even if it doesn’t make any sense, I just want to write. That’s all that matters
for now.