Written words make me express myself more. Even if it’s
cluttered, or arranged in a conventional way, my heart is always present in my
writing. I have many essays, short paragraphs that contain my inner self of the
past that I sometimes come across whenever I feel like digging into it. Those
were written on my old mobile phone, the one I used all throughout college.
What lies there were my thoughts on life, at that moment where I still have all
the time, money, and new experiences that I want. I can’t help but feel
different about myself. It seems that I really grew up in a span of really
short years. I feel like I’ve matured enough to think that those problems and
opinions that I had were not applicable to my life anymore. It’s like those
words that I sincerely wrote were not of mine entirely, but just a small,
unrecognizable part of me of the past.
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