I’ve never done a diary partly because I’ve never really developed a good penmanship. And there was always a type-writer or my dad’s secretary Rebecca who typed up my short-stories. To this day, I wonder how she transcribed it; it’s either I wrote the manuscript out painstakingly well, or she completely deciphered what I had written, because a whole lot of them got published.

But I’ve come to realise after a few entries that writing by hand is a much more enforceable discipline. I don’t waver or question my thoughts as much as I often do lately with blogging. My penmanship is the same awful upper-case printed mess, but it doesn't bother me. I’ve had enough of reasons that turn out in the end to be just excuses.

I’ve done an entry since the new year; here’s to the rest of the year and beyond.