What happened?
That was the first question came to my mind as I re-read my old blog posts. What happened to me? What happened to my life? What happened to my dreams? What will happen to me next? I felt like crying as my eyes digested the words I typed here three years ago--when I was younger, happier and aflame with passion for my craft. I felt like a failure--to myself, to my family, to my readers. That part of me, the old me, was like a dear friend that now turned into someone I don't know. She had drifted so far away from me and I can't do anything to bring her back. I was left here--bitter, broken and useless. What's scary was, as I try to imagine my future, I only see vagueness. And it was getting darker and darker as days passed by, as I took a step closer towards it.
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