clarisse Delgado

Writing has never been my forte. Never.
When I was in high school, my brain found the numbers very interesting like it actually makes the world go round and round each and every second that passes by. Through that, I decided to go for engineering in my early senior year. And what kind of engineering was that? Well, the one responsible for all the wonderful magic that goes up to the sky. I never thought those were engineered until I knew about the pilots, because pilots are best friends with aeronautical engineers. How cool is that? Taking pilot courses is too weigh-y for my parents' pockets so I finalized to go for engineering.
But trouble came when a competition was held in our school. We should participate in every event of the English Week. Almost everyone has something to do or to contribute. Except, well, for me.
So I tried.
But I failed.
But through my failure and losing the final competition, I found another flame that lives inside me, which I know will soon burn out like the ones in hell.
But I still went for engineering. And by this time, I feel like I'm in the wrong place. This does not feel like home, but I promise to get to the finish line successfully, without a single injury(but unfortunately, I already got one).
And here's me, too ambitious to be one of the bloggers who have their expense-paid trips around the philippines or the world. So yes, I built this up for A) hobby B) past time or whatever. I really can't call this passion because I feel like I'm just playing and I will never ever go above the line who are playing the game better than me.
I just want to do the things I want, not the things I'm supposed to do.

When things start to get more difficult, I pick my phone up, launch the "notes" app and click every letter that builds up words which define how I feel or which suits the situation. I'm afraid to write, actually.

Subject-verb disagreements, misplaced and hanging modifiers, punctuation malposition, inaccurate word usage, and muddiness were the reasons why I'm afraid to publish every paragraph of thoughts and every imaginations that were made.

"This is not passion" is made by yours truly to finally figure myself out what the hell I'm doing with my free time, how is it and how people react. I'm not afraid of corrections and criticisms, but I'm afraid of bashing and how people tumble around my ideas and make every piece of my opinion fallacious and not wo