I was in the middle of my steps on the dance floor. The sense of enjoyment overwhelming me until somebody in just plain T-shirt told me to lay low on the floor. For God forsaken, the place had been ambushed by the authority. Gross, I got nowhere to run. Then I heard some rumours spread. The club’s operation was illegal, which means it was against the law. Somehow it was better than being invaded by Taliban, at least. Everyone was asked to urinate to determine alcohol level in blood, and either we are drug addicts or not.”Please, I am not”. I start to shiver. If only I did not go to the toilet half an hour ago. If only Sarah did not asked me to keep her company. If only I did not have a pee. If only. I was asked to urinate, which it was like the hardest thing to do at the moment. It was like when you got a full stomach, somebody offered you Nando’s, and it is all on him. I did succeed to urinate, after a three bottle of mineral water consumption and half an hour of waiting, in which it gave me hell.
Writing for me is just another case of dragging myself to the darkest pit of the hell. I believe that not much people are blessed with the ability to write, and even harder to find people who got the talent of writing good pieces naturally. I always pray to God, for having Him bless me with the kind of capability. I wish I can be as good as J.K Rowling, or John Grisham. I am so ambitious, my dreadful classmate once said to me. As for me, there’s no wrong in being so ambitious if your expectation towards yourself is higher than anyone believes you are. If you cannot shoot for the moon, reach the stars then. Only me can discover myself, and I will let it out some other day. I do realize that the journey to success never cost me bed of rosses.
My Art teacher once said, “ You would never want to stay still and do nothing to be a good writer”. It was like an eye-opening to me. Even a Parliament member has to work really hard to get elected. She suggested me few novels of hers. She introduced me some brilliant authors. She did asked me to read Enid Blyton’s, as she believed once a kid understand you and your thought, it resembled that you are accepted. I was reminded for about thousand times to keep on hoping yet not to stop practising as if I would die sooner.
Miss Lia did send me to a writing clinic back then when I was 15, held by Faisal Tehrani. Who do not recognize him? If somebody does not know him, I will say, “you are loser”. I really meant it, in any ways. He write about so many good things, from politics. Currebt issues, war, and environment.
I adore so much Fynn Jamal’s masterpieces. I keep on wondering, how many days I would take to write a good essay like hers which she might takes like only half an hour to let it out. You might not know her as she is not an international writer. She is a blogger, in fact. She do write poem, in which I thought is the hardest thing to get done. Really, I cannot express what I am feeling. If you give me a piece of paper, I promise you, I would not make it dirt . It will remain white as it were.
I am dreaming of becoming a genius writer and refuse to regard mine as masterpiece as it will only kill me. It is a real big thing if you can write good pieces of good contents so other people will feel good and they act good.I do believe that the capability of writing do come with a great responsibility. Do not be a jerk an only write stinky things and let the good one for yourself only. Sharing is caring.
*1st time lepas spm 07, aku tulis essay secara kritikal sambil ketuk2 meja cari idea. idea dapat,tapi kene
re-do. malang.suspens giler time dr yong cakap ade 3 org kne re-write. ceh,sekali aku kena.
aku,jahar,sebastian.ok la tuh.bukan sampai ade pendarahan otak pon.
giler terkial-kial aku tulis.agak sampah,tp akan diperbaik.practise makes perfect.
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