My essay sucks. Everything I write sucks. 

Of course, my parents would say I’m really good in writing but that just entails me into actually proving it.

They said they’ve read some things I wrote and that was like, eons ago but they still think I’m really good. My sister quite agrees but she’s my sister, isn’t that enough reason?

I recently got appointed as feature editor in the English department’s publication, Wordsmith, even if I am just starting out in the publication business! What surprised me during our first meeting was that some of my seniors were staff writers while I got to be an editor? <_< I actually did not particularly intend to try-out…audition…screen…(whatever you want to call it) in our pub. I got dragged to it by two of my friends and eventually, there were five of us from our group of friends who tried out. Only two of us, though, got in. I expected Sarah to get in because she had experienced working in their pub before (actually, she was the one who suggested that we do the try-out) but me? I can’t even believe that I got appointed as one of the editors! I remembered not getting in Prism, our pub back in high school. It’s kind of surreal, thinking about it. I also remembered my friend asking me what if I wasn’t accepted. I simply said I’d try again the next year. I tried like, twice, though. 

And now, here I am, still being shrouded with doubt regarding what I write because days before we got the announcement of the new WS people, I got eight (or seven) out of ten in one of our essays in Journ 1. I don’t even want to look at that paper. I had rushed it, I admit, but it’s still is a slap on my face thinking that I’m just an average writer, period. I hate average, mediocrity. And getting into the pub just confuses me. I don’t really believe in myself that much. I’ve said things in the interview that may be pleasing to the advisers’ ears but what I would write in the future may be not as pleasing.

My work just sucks. Like a blackhole.