Think of me as that guy you see in the streets playing guitar and singing his heart out. Only that I have no guitar, nor am I singing for that matter— suffice it to say that this blog is my guitar, and as for the singing, well, it’s the words in the articles I write.

Just so you know, I’m not singing, um, writing about a long lost lover. Maybe some day I will (since the reason for this blog is simply to write; to serve as an outlet for me).

I guess we all need that: that which provides an outlet for us— obviously in different ways, ways in which we can personally identify ourselves as we seek to find peace and purpose, or whatever it is that people seem to seek these days.

It’s true, I’m seeking an audience, I’m seeking attention… But isn’t it also true that we all need someone (or people) to validate our existence, at some point or another?
I mean, when it comes to sharing our stories, and trying to find someone who feels the same way, or, at the very least, who indulges us… doesn’t it quite fit the definition of being human and being alive?

We’re all specs of dust in this vast universe. But we all matter because we’re matter. We’re dense, fully packed with values which stem from the experiences we’ve had throughout our lives— experiences which only take shape as we get bombarded with the trajectory of other people’s lives, and the structures of society which dictate how we should live.
These experiences can be transformed into stories— maybe not as dazzling as how we’d want them to be, but they are stories nonetheless. They are stories about love, hope, conflict, survival and above all, us being human while we deal with the crap life throws at us.

Sometimes we cannot narrate them down to every single detail of what we’ve gone through, but, what we’ve learned about ourselves, life and human life in general—and what we’re still trying to figure out— and, also, what we can’t comprehend, can all be a story.

This blog is just all me, it’s all about my stories… about how I feel things, how I see things and how I badly I want things to be like.

What I’ve learned so far, is that stories never end. Even when the evil queen is cast down into a bottomless pit, there’s always more that can be said and written about. Even when stories end with the words ‘the end’ or ‘and they lived happily ever after’ we all know that’s where they choose to stop— because to all intents and purposes, that’s where the moral of the story lies.
That’s how we (readers and writers) get to put a pause in our reality, and take a walk in a new reality created utterly out of words. More importantly, that’s how we get to feel hopeful as we face our reality with a brave face, knowing that we’ve had the most inspiring story.

Because stories aren’t just stories. They are experiences which unfold as narratives that help us navigate life’s complex social problems. Or (even better) make sense of life itself.
Suffice it to say that stories are fascinating things. They convey huge amounts of information.

Because sometimes all we want is just to express what matters to us, and we do so with words, with stories— simply because they matter too.

So I’ll narrate some to you about me. I’ll do the honours of ripping myself open with every post I write on this blog, because I believe stories are capable of many things: they have enormous potential to inspire, to motivate, to drive perfomance, to accelerate change… I mean, seriously, I could go on…

All I’m trying to say is that we’re all passers-by in this vacuum we call life. We might as well tell our stories, about how we live. Because I believe when you tell your story, and tell it well enough, then others will pass it along and around as message of hope, something that we can all learn from.

So, with that in mind, my parting short to you is that the only way to have enriching stories to tell is by densely packing your life with experiences and memories that bring joy, meaning and peace to both yourself and others.

Buckle up, and let’s soar into the world of words. Let’s tell our stories.