I am good at beginnings but I seem to have a problem finishing things. I love to write yet the only ones I have to show are poetry and blog entries. The stories keep piling up - for though I've seen the ending in my mind I can't make myself write those last few paragraphs. I don't like saying goodbye - I'd rather walk away.
I took ballet lessons as a kid and quit after the recital. My mother enrolled me in organ lessons - I didn't even make it to the recital. When I was old enough to pay for my violin lessons, I took a few classes but had to quit because I got a job at a shipping company. It's one of the regrets I have - stopping when I was really making progress.
There was also this time when I took Spanish classes and had to quit because of a conflict between my classes and the work schedules. Then I decided to learn a Southeast Asian language after a short stay in Indonesia. Sadly, my love affair with the language died out when the little fling ended. Still I can manage to speak basic Spanish and Bahasa Indonesia if my survival is at stake.
If there is one thing that inspires me to write and stirs my blood, it's traveling. So when boredom threatens to suffocate me, I go out there for a little adventure. And indeed, it's like a breath of fresh air after spending so much time in a polluted city.
Yet I when I can't go for a little trip, I could always stay home and read books/manga, do an anime or movie marathon, plan my next costume for a cosplay, surf the Net - I don't think I've ever run out of things to do.
I don't mind playing sports either. Just no singing and dancing please. I'm hopeless.