What I like about writing is the feeling of being free. It’s not like I am caged somewhere, it has something to do with me being at my wit’s end when it comes to expressing my emotions, especially those emotions on the negative side. When I am angry, I end up crying instead of shouting the crap out of me. Worst, there are days when all I want to do is crawl back to bed and forget about what’s making me angry. I don’t like being angry or it stems from me not liking other people to see me at my worst. I’m quite shy about my emotions, when I am sad I don’t let people know about it because maybe I don’t like explaining what’s making me sad or I don’t want people to shed some bad light to the very reason why I am sad.
When I think about it, it’s usually the closest to me (or us) who has the ability to hurt me. I am not insinuating that I am hurt right now, okay? (I’m defensive, deal with it). Well back to this thought, when it comes to those people that are dear to me, I don’t want to put them in a bad light. Even if I am angry at them or if they’re making me sad, I don’t want people to know because I don’t have any idea how to tell them myself why I am angry or hurt. I think it’s logical that I was wired this way, I don’t have the courage to tell them about the things that hurt me or makes me angry and so I shouldn’t tell anyone else. I owe it to that person.
When I am angry or sad, it is such a help that I can still express myself through writing. Nothing so fancy. Just the emotions and hopefully, there would be some sort of healing. This is a form of self care for me. And I am glad, that I still have this blog to write the things that keep me up at night.
Sorry for the long hiatus.
Hopefully, I am back this 2017.
2016 was a great year, I was just too lazy being pregnant. 😛
Sugarplum, boyfriend/critic, told me one time that I usually give 5 stars on every book that I read. This is based on my goodreads’ account and the review and rating I would give on the books that I finished reading. Thinking about it, I generally think that this is based on me being a little bit of a picky reader. Yes, I consider myself a picky reader because I do pick my books based on my previous experience with them. I won’t read a book from the same writer if I think that their previous book is not good, it has something to do with what I deem as good or pleasurable book. Inside my safe haven of collection, I can generally enjoy every books that experience taught me to be good. Seldom do I travel the risky path, i.e. read a book from a new author. This is the reason why I always give 5 stars to book that I do read.I still need to widen my favorite authors and will try some more experiment on different authors. Someday.
Moving on, I bought the new book of Paulo Coelho– Adultery. Before I go to goodreads and give it a 5 stars and tell everyone that it’s a must read, let me tell you about why I think it deserves a 5, 6 or infinite number of stars. I like the author of this book and so I was expecting it to be amazing and YII. Yes it is!
Art is not a one way street. It must be something that both the creator and the receiver can feel. I consider reading a book as an art, it’s a two way street. The author gives you something that is personal and the experience, whatever you feel while reading, is your own way of feeling the art. (more…)
I hate you!
Her words had fangs and an ability to suck up the happiness in the room. Her words had fangs and they bit him. Painfully. She was furious and at this state, his soothing words cannot soothe her anymore. Tears were starting to fall from her eyes. A trail of mascara followed them into her cheeks. Then her hand aggressively wiped them, creating a shade of black and tears.
I hate you! Didn’t you hear me? I hate you!
Her words morphed into a knife, trying to penetrate and hurt him. It created a tear in his protective jacket and a scratch into his future plans. Her deadly stare started to shake his trust on theirs, as if the way she says those words weren’t enough to crumble the shaky foundation of theirs.
You really don’t care?
Her words turned icy cold. The anger subsided but the next phase were worse than the previous one, it turned cold. A cold silence, icy and much painful than the fangs and the knife. She silently sob, trying to control and not control her cries.
You weren’t even mine.
Her words were in monotone now, no more anger. Nothing. It reflected her surrender, her acceptance. He looked at her, she’s beautiful. She is and she will always be. But he cannot have her, not when everyone is against it. Because, according to them, it’s not right. It’s not fair. Nothing is fair. They cannot go on like this forever. And forever doesn’t even exist.
The world seems to be shaking, the walls were crumbling. His confidence were fading, he cannot let her go. He came here with a well planned break up speech. Hearing that single word of surrender, it opened a wound. A wound he thought he might never have. Him, a reasonable man and who never let his emotion drive his life into an abyss, is here with a crumbling confidence. He looked at her and saw the woman he loved. She was staring at the floor, trying to stop her tears.
He moved towards her, she looked up with a questioning eyes. He embraced her, afraid of going. There were tears on his eyes but it doesn’t matter. Que Sera Sera. Whatever Will Be, Will Be. His thoughts didn’t drive into its usual path, it didn’t plan out the future. What matters now is now. Tomorrow will take care of itself and the next and the next. That maybe good or bad and he might screw up his plans or his destiny but it doesn’t matter. He chose her. It will be her. It will be.
Why are you afraid to say the things that you mean?
Why do you doubt your own ideals?
Is it because some people’s questioning of your ideals is a scary thing to see?
The world is big, it’s flat according to some and for others it is round. Whether it is flat or round, you can walk it. And you’re never afraid of falling from the earth because it has something in it that holds everyone together.
It’s like the way you are sewn, your own personality has something in it that holds you together. Maybe it’s the way you deal with the challenges that comes your way. (more…)
I was quite busy in the past few days because real-life is really taking its toll on me as I swam in its huge pass or fail, make it or break it coaster. It seems like a new plan is being directed on my way or I’m being drawn into that new plan, whichever is true, and it seems so difficult to just sit back, relax, open up my WordPress reader and enjoy! I don’t get this much time anymore.
Today, as I open my reader and saw this post about Welcoming Rara back, my heart did skip a beat. She’s back! She’s really back! Welcome back Rara!
As I read through my reader, I was reminded again about my writing and what’s happening to it. I created another blog to separate my stories and adventures but it seems I am not writing fully at these two blogs. I am not torn but I feel like I am having some sort of block that seems to consume my passion in writing. This is the part where I am starting to feel that I shouldn’t have done this or that. Or, some worst case scenario that I should probably stop doing this. Then, this question pops into my mind…
Yes. Why do I write?
Is it because I want to be heard? Maybe I want people to know my thoughts. Maybe I’m still in that phase that a number of views per day do excite me and maybe I’m starting to kill the fun of writing by stressing myself over the low page view.s Maybe not. Or, maybe yes. (more…)
I turned 25 last month and I’m quite excited about turning 26 next year. Finally, I can post something like 26 on the 26th(my birthday is on June 26), I hope this blog is still up when that happens.
For now, let me just talk about being 25 and its difference with being 24.
At 24, I still had a job in the corporate world. I spend a lot of my time in the office so I make it a point to dress up daily, get out with my friends and do a lot of over time. You can never imagine the number of times I tried to get out of that loop. It took me a while and it took some bigger boulders to be pushed. But I did it. Maybe that’s the biggest accomplishment that I had in my 24th year. (more…)
“How much do you love me?”
“Do you still love me?”
I usually ask these questions as if the answer will stop me from asking it all over again. This is the part where I feared about not having him fully, his love and affection. Blame it to the hormones, to my paranoia and my insecurities, blame it to every little edge of my personality because there will be no acceptable answer when these questions were raised. I’m glad that the person I am with would answer it: that he do love me more than anything in this world. I am also glad that he had the courage to tell me that I am being paranoid and that this has to stop. (more…)
One time, I had this conversation with Sugarplum where in I was happily sharing about a blogger who chose a certain kind of job to pursue his/her writing. I also shared about another blogger/writer who can’t seem to write when he/she takes a job. He then throw me a question about my own writing plans.
“What about you? What kind of job will you take to pursue your writing?”
I was caught off guard by his question because I haven’t thought of it lately. I left the corporate world due to some circumstances and opportunities that were out of my hand. I told myself that I will seize this opportunity to be able to pursue my writing but I’m still falling behind schedule, my posting habit is still the same and I sometimes feel that I’m beginning to be a workaholic even though I am currently working at home. (more…)
It’s a Sunday night and that feeling that it’s going to be a long work week ahead is piling up inside me and I can’t seem to properly take my Sunday night rest. Thoughts about my unfinished task, the bugs I need to fix, the blog posts that I’m planning to prep and post are cramming inside of me and pushing me to a depressive state. Stop!
That’s really what a Sunday Dread is all about, it’s about the dread of Monday. Monday, whose sole fault is being the first day of the work week and thus is quite dreaded by a lot of people. I don’t want to jump into the bandwagon of Monday haters as it might ruin my whole work week. Remember, it’s better to start happy than annoyed or stressed out. I really can’t function well when I’m stressed out, it’s in me and I’m trying to play around that phase by trying my best not to be in that phase. Haha. Prevention. (more…)
On the day that you left, I decided to take out the trash. You see, it’s been a week and the trash are piling up. I can’t seem to breath in the house without reminding myself of you and the tons of trash that are rotting. I can smell it even in the dining room or even when you left and slammed the door.
On the day that you left, I decided to change the covers of our bed. It smells awful, something to do with you being so sweaty at night. Or the mess that we usually make in bed. The house seems really smelly these days, even the new covers remind me of our laundry time, bath time and any other time we used to enjoy together.
On the day that you left, I decided to vacuum the carpet. There were stains that I couldn’t even take away. You’re a little bit clumsy when you eat during our movie marathons. Remember the time you spilled the popcorn on the carpet, well, I found some of the popcorn today. (more…)