no talent?

Grumbling on and on.
Once again, my desire of writing is wiped away. Some friends were saying that I am good enough in writing, nevertheless I am starting to think it was only some kind of jokes or baloneys. Until now, my writing is just like a soliloquy, with no bystanders. Of course, I am doing it for me, but with process of time, it doesn’t satisfy me again. Hell, I do not even know why I was blogging. Do I need some recognition?

It pushes me to start thinking of my talent. People born with their own talent, don’t they? It was there, so we can’t help but receive as we are. The thing is, will they come out if we ignore it and never sharpen it? Will we know if we do have IT, will we realize it as our gift? What if we never realize it and it keeps hiding in the deep? What if some people are destined with no conscious of their talent?

And, sometimes I start to think, is it true that EVERYONE born with their talent? We can’t ensure it, right? Geez, after so long, trying hard enough to dig away all of my talent, and finding nightmare that exactly we don’t have any. Is it scary?
I keep on thinking whether I have one. Talent. Most people in my life always give their best appraisal to me. They were commending on me, thinking I am good enough with my life. They said I am so TALENTED. Am I? What’s my talent, people?
Once again, I fall into my anxiety, lose my confidence and searching for the worse part of me. We always envy with other’s garden, once my friend said. We are sooooo malice, so we can’t see the best of us. Maybe, it’s true. But maybe, it is also true that I don’t have any talent. I wasn’t born with that. I was destined with no talent.

PS. While writing this, one of my senior workmate in the office comes toward me, and he looks at some sketches I made in my desk. I sketch rarely, I even never ever want to share them with anybody else, coz they are so poor. They only consists of irregular scratches from my pencil (coz I hate draw using pen), and I doubt people can aware what it is. But, his face changes become unbelievable looks, and he starts picking up my sketches paper, and murmurs, “what a sketches! Are you exactly an engineer? You must have entered art class, right? Dear, you aren’t like engineering’s graduate!”
And I blush. Did I just find another talent?