In the quiet of the night, here I am. Looking at the blinking thing on my screen. It invites me to write my thoughts which I gladly accept.

We live our lives in the hope of gaining something. And life is more complex than we think. As it already presented itself thru the many forms, good times and bad times.

I have no way of getting out of this mess that I've created. I can only do so much. So I run to my laptop to cry my soul out. It was not at all an easy thing to do. At first, words come out wrong, then over and over. We hide in the guise of anonymity. Blogs created here and there. Some deleted, others forgotten, and many more to be written out.

As we age and progress in this endeavor, we get along with the idea that no one actually cares what we write about. Not in the sense that they don't regard us in good terms. Some don't even read at all. Many simply embrace whatever we have written. And there are those who take the time to be with us and painstakingly help us out with whatever message we wanted to convey. If we ever are interpreted right.

So we come out into the open. Only to run away again when things seem bleak. But we realize such is not a pleasant way to go. And so we reflect and as much as possible be honest with our entries.

Somehow, along the way, we look back and thank all those who inspired us. Thanks to that guy who endlessly encouraged us to continue despite all the odds. Thanks to that fearless lady who brightened our path with all the works she laid ahead of us, making those as our examples in writing.

We've gone thru borrowing voices until such time we found ours. And we discover how melodic and rhythmic ours could be. What more should we ask for?

Then we start to dream big, of writing about all our interests, of our knowledge, or our expertise that we could share to the world, how those smirks challenged us to be better than ever, and so on and so forth. We dream, not necessarily in terms of fame that authors usually get when favor go their way, but we start to think of good things that might come as a fruit of our labor in writing.

As for me, I wish to write books, of poems and maths, and people and places. How wonderful it could be to paint pictures with words. To sing through writing, and to live many lives in one lifetime.

And I call all these platforms, canvas of hope, as I dream my dreams as a writer, in my own right.

Hi, everyone! This is Zerlin, my real name. And this is my first blog post here at PublishOx. I hope you found value with this one. Thanks for reading! Till next time!