My own very first blog and other words on a string

This must be free writing because I have no idea how to blog.
I just learnt that blog comes from 'weblog'. There is always a start.
My first scribbles/journals/letters are dated more than 40 years ago. I have a wooden chest and a chest of drawers filled with copybooks, notes, ramblings.
And a dream. I once had a dream, since I was a young girl, playing barefoot in the yard from early spring until late autumn, enjoying an easy childhood, yet somehow disfigured by the communism.
I did not know what real life is until the first time I went abroad.
I thought that streets and cars and people in the movies are just that - in the movies.
Through it all my dream remained, I wanted to be a writer. Little I knew, I already was a writer. At that time I did not know the difference between a writer and an author.
I had and I have something to say.
The fact that I think in a mix of Romanian and English, and I write in both languages, it was at first an issue.
Then I discovered editors.
I am now an author, and I have a sense of achievement.
I had a dream and I fulfilled it.
What next?
I am not done.
I want to be an author 'again'.