Writing

 About 3 years ago I started this blog called 'blutybiru', public- but realistically only I know the existence of it. I wrote one post, if I remember it was about the dilemma of me having countless hobbies and projects and always giving up before it even started to grow, so about a year ago, I deleted said blog, thinking it was pointless to begin with. 

Recently I have been getting back the urge to write, one of my uni subjects required me to start a blog and post weekly (in a group of course) so I volunteered to be the one to administer it, along with another classmate. 

I write- and I write- not consistently, and recently, I started reading- articles from Medium, several novels, and just reading in general, because I like to read into someone's thoughts, and how it could clash or align with mine. 

Writing and reading has always been a comfort to me, but I remember a time where I would reject the idea that I like to read similarly with how I refused to wear the color pink, I thought it made me classified into a certain group, that a nice feminine girl should look soft and be into reading, always. -I didn't want to be a 'nice feminine girl'. Growing up now I have become attuned with my femininity, not fully- but I'm getting there.