I'm chasing words but they have a mile-wide head start.

I may not dream of writing the greatest novel, but I dream that people will one day quote my words. Fat chance if no one's reading them. Nonetheless, I'll continue to write.

This poster has really struck me. Especially number 10. I remember listening to a talk that a teacher once gave to us student journalists. After giving us an assignment of writing about anything, she found out that students tried to write about politics, education, the state of the nation. But not one chose a simple subject. Why don't you start writing about the grass? She said. If you can't write about a simple thing as that, you won't be able to  go far as a feature writer.

I was news writer and it had nothing to do with me. But I still remember what she said.

I'm trying to write as much as I can. They're starting to look like the one written before them. That's why I need to practice. But what am I doing? Writing about needing to write. Pathetic, I am.

Not only that but I haven't read much lately. I buy books that I don't take the time to read.  These past few days I've been restless. I feel like I'm chasing things. I'm chasing words. I'm chasing light. I'm running after something I have no chance of catching. But I'm still running.

I wonder if I'm really the one who's running after something, or I'm the one who's running away.

Maybe tomorrow I'll post the "love story" I wrote two days ago. Till then, good night.