I have always wanted to join a book club or some sort of club, particularly a literature club where we discuss big and small concepts; where our ideas become challenged; and are safe to express. But as an introvert, I often prefer to do the thinking and reading alone in a quiet environment. In public meetings, rarely will you find me leading a group discussion. Instead, I am the one in the background observing and listening. So, I don’t know how useful it would be for me to join a book club. This is part of the reason why I blog.

There’s another reason why I am not in a book club, I am an avid gamer who believes that great ideas are not limited to books. I want to discuss video games, which is a medium that is not widely understood. If it were, many gamers wouldn’t have to advocate its benefits and rewards to the mass, and WHO wouldn’t have called it an addiction. Luckily, most of my peers are accepting of the hobby because it’s now mainstream, but many of them prefer spending time doing something else more “productive”.

I like to think that writing reviews and keeping an online diary is somewhat productive. The writing process helps polish and refine my thoughts into something visible for my eyes to feast on. As a result, the labor of my fruit becomes edible and digestible enough to satisfy my creative appetite, but I know it’s not enough to stand on its own as a creative merit. People don’t read blogs for artistic inspiration but rather to start a conversation. And yet here I am writing poetic reviews, which is a craft I learned to love. You see, I have always been a thinker, but not a good communicator. So, I thought writing for this blog on topics and subjects I am interested in will help make me become a better communicator, which to me is just another term for being a good storyteller.

Looking back on one of my blog posts, What’s in a Name? I never treated this blog as a stepping stone in hoping one day I would become a well-renowned writer. Realistically that would be a stretch as I am far from obtaining such a title. There are many talented marginalized writers out there in America and yet the road to mainstream acceptance is far. Perhaps this is just a mental block for allowing a Modern Lit professor to dissuade me from writing. For a long time, I never took a step back to observe that he had his inner demons to fight with. In his eyes, all he saw was an Asian student. I often wonder to this day, what did China have to do with Western Modern Lit? Perhaps, it’s true that I was not a strong writer back then, but I believe his statement was more of an attack against China than me as an individual. He wasn’t too fond that China was sending its students overseas to learn technology and science to better its society whereas the U.S. was (and is still) too busy making toys. What I was experiencing was a form of microaggression. I came to the white man to teach me how to think and write in his culture, but instead, he discouraged me. Woah, the last sentence didn’t sound so pretty, but so was my interaction with that teacher.

As I am writing this blog post, a part of me is regretful for believing in the biggest lie that I was simply just not good at writing. One person didn’t believe in my ability, but there were also a few who were rooting for me. In a world where people are fighting to be heard, it’s important to find your voice because sometimes the rest can sound like noise, especially if it’s not constructive or helpful in any way.

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Coming up, more Elden Ring content. The game is so massive, but I am making progress. Not too long ago, I made fun of Vayne from Final Fantasy XII, needing to calm down before he popped a vein. Well, I nearly popped mine trying to beat the bosses in Elden Ring, haha. Since I am a bit burnt out from this game, writing, and with this terrible prairie summer’s heat, I will try to get the blog post whenever I can.