My Boring Life

Regular readers would’ve noticed that I write with uneven frequency. Often there are no updates for weeks, and then a flood of articles will suddenly appear within a short period of time.

For a fast talker who can think lightning-fast on his feet and win most debates — with or without logic — I have to take a lot of effort to put my thoughts down into words. English language has never been my forte; the fact that I come from a Chinese-speaking family doesn’t help either. Sometimes I wonder how my life would have been like if I can forfeit half my oratorical skill to become a better writer, and the other half to become a better listener. But I digress.

If you’re not born talented, you can only hope to improve through sheer hard work. This is the approach I take in life, and I make use of every opportunity to improve myself. SG Watch becomes an avenue where I can practice to write better, and I take the effort to ensure that proper English is used as much as my limited mastery of the language allows. This is why I update SG Watch so infrequently as compared to those prolific bloggers.

Another reason for the lack of updates — which most people would think is the real reason and my poor writing skill is just another lame excuse — is that I lead a boring life. And unlike many bloggers, I don’t feel the need to announce to the whole world what I ate for breakfast (none actually, since I can never wake up in time for a quick bite before class) and what I did for the day, a mundane routine so boring that I myself want to break out of, lest to provoke any interest from others. It worries me sometimes that I could be stuck in a dead-end job for the next 40 years and become just another faceless person among six billion humans in the world.

You must be wondering, what’s the point of reading about the life of a boring guy who can’t write properly? The same feel-good factor that makes reality shows so popular: it is comforting to know there are bigger losers out there than yourself.

Or perhaps you’re a friend who accepts me for who I am.

28 January 2005 · My Life

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