Accidentally on Purpose

Aop

Can accidents happen on purpose? I’m not sure if that intro would actually fit on today’s entry but let’s give it a try, shall we?

So uhmm, let’s start with… how the hell did I even start blogging?

That was just simply because we were required to. During our college days, my closest friends and I was lucky enough to get into a descent company for our training.  We all adore our boss, our mentors and even our co-trainee. They were like the coolest guys I’ve known so far in my whole life. They’re all Open-source advocate.

Anyway, they seem to notice our lack of confidence so they require us to start a blog and at least write something about the training, the learning and a little bit of everything.

It’s crazy! I mean, we don’t even know how to write with nothing. No idea and nothing interesting to write about. Funny how we started posting an entry by continuously exchanging looks like we were mentally telling each other that we are soooo fucked. Lmao.

What I realized is, I maybe forced to start writing but I was not, however, forced to love it this big. It feels like I accidentally loved something on purpose honestly.

So let me ask you that question again. Can accidents happen on purpose? Well, it doesn’t always have to be your friends or your blog or anything similar. It can be something about love, something with your passion, with your dreams or…anything. It can be anything.

I’m not that famous type of blogger. I don’t do lifestyle blogging. No Photography blogging. Not a fashion blogger too. I don’t do book reviews as well, maybe a little but not that much. I used to write anything the goes through my mind but nothing spectacular.

Blogging is like me speaking. This has become my simple way of expressing me, the real me…  This way I can talk to someone who doesn’t even know I exist; it’s like letting strangers read whats on my mind and it’s a kinda cool don’t you think?

This has been my personal journal for like two years now and so far, I’m happy that I’m still writing.

Blogging is where I live, I breathe, I love, I express, argue and criticize. I love it here. This is where I purposely belonged, said by others. This is where I was accidentally found and I love it, here, in my wonderland.

Xx

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