Another week, another non-written part of my draft... my writing course started yesterday, and in a week a course in quantum mechanics starts. So now I have 5 of them simultaneously. I fight very mild panic attacks when I think about it, it feels like a huge pressure is applied to me by all these courses since I try to attend to all of them. This weekend I was supposed to finish the last programming assignment for my Algorithms course, but I procrastinated. And yesterday I felt so sick I didn't even go to work, and I didn't study either. :-(
But I did wrote first assignment for the writing class. It's an introduction essay. I think I did pretty good, and it's also delightful to see how many people are there in the course who are enthusiastic writers just like me.
I am a writer of my life
First time I felt like a writer was in elementary school. Our music teacher gave us a task to write a poem about feelings we had while listening to Vivaldi's "Seasons". I wrote a short poem about spring. That was my first. It felt amazing, it felt natural, and I liked it so much it never wear off to this day. I'm twenty six now.
I enjoy writing. It helps me to think, and it helps me to express myself in the most precise way possible since I'm not that good in talking or touching. Writing gives me freedom and strength to be who I am. Through the years I did all kinds of writing: school papers, university projects, technical documentation, love poems, fairy tales, letters, reviews, co-writing games, fanfiction... I also have a daily updating blog since 2003. Lately I became interested in writing in English. It's my second language, so I don't feel confident with it yet, and I take every opportunity to learn. English is beautiful, and I love it almost as much as I love Russian, though it is completely different in rhythm and in spirit. I believe that writing is to some degree independent of the language itself, though I am ready to be proved wrong.
Sometimes I feel that I not as much live my life, as I write a story of it, picking dialogs and laughing at irony, assessing my troubles for dramatic effect rather than full heartedly suffering through them. Whether this is healthy or not, I am forever grateful to have such gifts as a language and a written word.
***
New words for today:
But I did wrote first assignment for the writing class. It's an introduction essay. I think I did pretty good, and it's also delightful to see how many people are there in the course who are enthusiastic writers just like me.
I am a writer of my life
First time I felt like a writer was in elementary school. Our music teacher gave us a task to write a poem about feelings we had while listening to Vivaldi's "Seasons". I wrote a short poem about spring. That was my first. It felt amazing, it felt natural, and I liked it so much it never wear off to this day. I'm twenty six now.
I enjoy writing. It helps me to think, and it helps me to express myself in the most precise way possible since I'm not that good in talking or touching. Writing gives me freedom and strength to be who I am. Through the years I did all kinds of writing: school papers, university projects, technical documentation, love poems, fairy tales, letters, reviews, co-writing games, fanfiction... I also have a daily updating blog since 2003. Lately I became interested in writing in English. It's my second language, so I don't feel confident with it yet, and I take every opportunity to learn. English is beautiful, and I love it almost as much as I love Russian, though it is completely different in rhythm and in spirit. I believe that writing is to some degree independent of the language itself, though I am ready to be proved wrong.
Sometimes I feel that I not as much live my life, as I write a story of it, picking dialogs and laughing at irony, assessing my troubles for dramatic effect rather than full heartedly suffering through them. Whether this is healthy or not, I am forever grateful to have such gifts as a language and a written word.
***
New words for today:
discomfited
confounding
cumbersome
incredulity
infinitesimally
Wondrous
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