Browse Tag by life
365, Random Thoughts, Writings

Define Happiness

I guess my only self consolation for not being able to write is, I’m actually happy. It’s easy to bleed words when you are sad, but when you’re happy, it’s kind of hard to stop and pick up a pen and write things down, because you’re busy living life, being happy, being grateful. And it’s kind of a really really good feeling, and I guess happiness is a lot more difficult to capture in paper. I don’t even have words to express it.

[congrats to me! i’m signing off for awhile]

365, Prose, Random Thoughts, Writings

A dandelion kind of wish

Wouldn’t it be nice if there’s at least one person who can read your mind or hear your thoughts? I hope there is, at least for me. So that whatever happens to me, someone would know. And I wouldn’t be lost in this oceans of people, even for that one person’s mind.

//something I’d thought about years ago.

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365, Poetry, Writings

Walls Everywhere

I scream to the walls that binds me up,
I claw at its surface until my fingernails snap,
I cover it with blood, my only lifeline,
Then I realize it is me who’s been keeping it up.

So I dig below until I get out,
Out of the walls that keep me out,
Of peoples lives and peoples buzz,
And I see the sunlight for the first time.

I breathe the air that suffocates me before,
It didn’t change apart from how I view things now,
The air that used to kill me, now brings me life,
I’m glad I tear the walls down.

//an old post of mine 😊

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365, Prose, Writings

We are the girls who kiss wolves

We are the girls who kiss wolves, who train foxes hoping we could tame their hearts, hoping we could train them not to leave us, we are the girls who kiss imperfections that cannot be salvage, hoping that our goodness is enough to shed light to darkest and dirtiest part of a human soul. We are the girls who played with fire, burn our tongues and lungs, hoping that the smoke of our ashes will serve as a sign that even when you turn into dust and ash, your cries and pleas will still rise up to the heavens, a ghost of a smoke rising above the forest, guiding the lost souls in the right direction. We are the girls who sing with the wind and dance to a rhythm no one else could hear, who let dangers swirl on our palm,  seep on our veins, and swim on our bloodstreams.

We are the girls who wouldn’t kiss frogs hoping they would turn into a prince, because we are the girls who make changes to this upside down world.

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365, Prose, Random Thoughts, Writings

Dear 2017 me

Dear 2017 me,

You are still a blank slate, a collection of days not yet trodden, so let’s make it right this time. Learn to cherish each moments. Take time to breathe and look at the things around you. Appreciate. Appreciate. Appreciate. Be grateful. You are more now than you are 5 or 10 years ago. Heck, you are more than now than I am. So please please, don’t hurry in life. Keep your footsteps steady, you may find one day that you seem to be moving slowly, and that’s okay, as long as you keep moving forward. You may stumble and fall along the way, and that’s alright too, I have so much bruises and scars already on my knees and heart, and every time I still try to get back up again. Sometimes I had stayed too long on the ground, and I want to tell you that it’s alright too. Take your time this coming year please. Appreciate life. No rushing forward. Forward is forward. One step is still a step as long as you keep your eyes on your goal. Create goals. Choose happiness. Make happiness one of your goals. And I know you still have that inner compass in you, that inner knowing that makes you know which path to take. Listen to it. Always. It never fails.

And when things get hard and to much to bear, always look and ask the help from Above. Hell, seek Him even on the greatest moments of your life, or even on the most mundane periods of your life. Seek Him at all time. If there’s anything I have learned this year and that I will want you to remember, it is that we have a good good Father in Him. Remember where your help comes from. Pray. Whether you’re happy or not, because He always listens, every time.

And please, please know that I am here for you, your past selves, all of us, an accumulation and amalgam of years and experiences, a collection of moments and little joys and sadness, we’re here and we’re still here, making up who you are today, and who you will be this 2017.

And above all, be brave. I know you can do this. I believe in you.

Wishing you the best in life and love and everything else that your heart desires,
2016 me

P.S. Keep your brains and heart connected at the same time. All the time. It’s hard, I know. But those two work wonders together, and not apart.

P.S.2. And really, I think 2015 and 2013 us had messed up more grand time! 😉

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365, Poetry, Random Thoughts, Writings

Mirror mirror on the wall

Mirror mirror on the wall
All I see is nothing but fraud.
– – – –

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Lately, I’ve been feeling out of sorts, my words never seem to be enough. Worst is I’m recently getting more than my normal likes and shares on my tumblr blog, but I still feel like sh*t. 🙊 For some reasons, I feel like my words don’t seem to have life, lacking of soul, and not like how I used to write before. And no matter how many people had taken time to message me to show their appreciation and to tell me to keep up the good work, I still don’t feel enough. 😔 I find myself constantly comparing myself to the past version of me, to the younger me that could write with soul, and I find my current self lacking. I’m guessing people could relate to my recent writings, but is it of any good if I couldn’t relate to my own works? 😔

I’m finding it hard recently to write, not because of the lack of words or ideas, but because I just can’t seem to relate to my own piece, and I can’t appreciate my own words, and it just doesn’t feel like enough, or me anymore. 😔 

Anyways, just ranting, nowadays, I feel like a handicap when I cannot write. 😂

365, Poetry, Writings

Promises

“What a tragic world we live in,” she sighed,
“where promises whispered in the wind, lost in the sea,
locked in the hearts, carried by night
stand more firm, strong, and unwavering
than till death do us part vows.”

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365, Prose, Writings

Love Letters #2

Do you remember how when we were kids, you taught me how to swim? And when we grew up, you always told me to stay away from waters unless you’re near? You knew how clumsy I could be on all the wrong moments.

But I never worry then.

You were always there to be my lifeguard whether in swimming or in real life. You have always been my floatation device when I’m about to drown, and my lookout when I’m already wading near the deep ends of the waters. You never let me go through any of it alone. That’s why when you’d left, I had a hard time adjusting and keeping afloat, even when I’m not in the waters, even when my feet is flatly on the ground. I feel like I’ll never learn how to float again, and my feet will never find its stability again.

I wish you pushed me harder in lessons.

But how can I blame you? That’s how you’ve always been, comfortable in being relied to, and that’s how I’ve always been, quitting before I even started and just comfortable on depending on you. You said that’s why we clicked on everything.

Sometimes when I’m near the beach, I can still hear your voice ringing through my ears, loud and clear, like it was just yesterday, reminding me to keep to the shore and to not go through the deep waters unless if I’m with you.

Sometimes, I go to the beach alone, because that is when your voice is loudest, that is where my memories of you are the most clear, roaring above the ocean’s wave. And most because, that is where I lose you.

I don’t think I will ever forgive the ocean for never giving you back to me.

Until now, I never manage to learn how to swim, and I’ve never been comfortable again with waters. I don’t think I will ever be, since you’ve been gone.

**…continuation from a post titled, 17.

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365, Prose, Random Thoughts, Writings

The Future of Us

They say you can never imagine what doesn’t exist. You can only imagine what exists and what will exist, but never what will never exist.

This is true.

I can see alternate futures. The different choices we make leads to different versions of the futures, branching in and out like that of a winding road, sending us to a completely different path.

This is our versions:

1. There is this version of us, in an alternate future, where you choose me instead of her. This doesn’t end well. We will grow to resent each other as time passes by. You will be irritable and moody, and I will grow to hate you. It will be a love-hate relationship where there will be too many fights, and make up sex, and not enough nourishing love. The thing is, we will play too many games that will both hurt us, you will still love me and I will still love you, but our dreams will be better than reality.

2. There is this version of us, in an alternate future, where you stick with what is now. Never changing, never rocking the boat, moving through the same motions day in and day out, never changing your feelings for me, or thoughts, and actions, believing and swearing that on next life, you’ll choose me and we will live happily ever after. The thing is, I can see this far. On next life, you’ll recognize me instantly, without a doubt, but I won’t recognize you. When you find me, I would love someone else by then, and I’ll be holding the same hands I’ll be holding in this lifetime if you choose this path. You will realize then that I’m living a good and satisfying life, and you will decide to keep your distance. This next life maybe your worst life of all the lifetimes you will ever live. You will live a life of unproductivity and drunkenness. Partly because you will see what I see now, that on the next next life, there will be no more us, or on the other futures to come. And we will never be together again. There are futures that seems final, and there are futures that are still changing. This version seems final. Proceed with caution.

3. There is this version of us, in an alternate future, one that ends quite well. Quite related to the one above, only that in this one, you decided to change your feelings for me, without bitterness or animosity, just good intentions and well-wishes, and in this path you’ll live a life of happiness. I, on the other hand, will live a life of contentment and happiness. It will be a good and satisfying life to both of us, separately but running parallel with each other. Your ups will be my ups, my downs will be your downs. On next life though, I’ll be holding the same hands I’ll be holding in this life, should you choose this path. The thing is, as I’m writing this, the future is still changing. On next life, I may be holding yours. And this version is still open-ended.

4. Then there is this version of us, in an alternate future, you ‘fight’ for me and not just ‘choose’ me, whatever that means. Remember that I can’t see the hows, just only the outcome. In this version, you are happy, and I am happy, and we are together. For some reason, this version will stretch for eternity, going on and on, without us needing a next life. The thing is, this future doesn’t exist before, and I have never seen it until only now. I can still see it now quite clearly. I do not know what change. But thank you.

There are many, many more other versions of futures that I haven’t explored, and going through all of it would give me quite a book to write.

5. There is this version when I choose someone else I know now, and I will live an unhappy miserable life, and you will live an unhappy life too, and we will just repeat this same life on the next. If I will choose this path, I see that on next life, I would choose the person I described in 2nd and 3rd versions instead of you, and I will still be happy then.

6. Then, there’s this version of what will happen when I choose to run away from you now. I might forever lose the opportunity to meet the person I’ve seen in the 2nd and 3rd versions. And I ‘might’ end with the unhappy one. After this, I cannot see what’s next for me or for you, which is quite scary, though it can also mean that this version for now is not yet set in stone, unless if I choose this path.

On the 1st version, I will die. On the 2nd and 3rd versions, I ‘might’ die. On the 4th, I do not see death. The 5th and 6th, I haven’t explored yet.

You see, there are futures that I can change, and there are futures that I cannot change. I did my best with those I can change.

Ours, however, is something that I cannot change, because this is yours to change.

So love, please proceed with caution.

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365, Prose, Writing Entries, Writings

Stars

I heard before that the stars we see every night, those little source of light, twinkling and glittering and painting the night sky are long dead. Yet they still give beauty to everyone who looks at them at night. They still give hope and inspiration to everyone who finds meaning in their existence. Maybe that’s the reason why God created them. To remind us that even on the darkest of the darkest night of our soul, the memories of our loved ones can still give a glimmer of light and a twinkle in our hearts even when they are long gone, just like the stars.

I stare at the night sky today. The stars cannot be seen, the clouds obscuring their twinkling light. But I know behind those clouds, they’re still there. Somewhere far away in the distant. Alive and beating and twinkling, just in a different time. And who knows, maybe the stars do laugh and we’re just too far away behind in time to really know.

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Prose, Writings

On In-betweens and Coffee Talks

 

If we were having coffee, I will you tell how it feels like. I will tell you how I’m constantly torn between two polar opposites of almost everything. Between dreams and reality. Between what my mind wants and what my heart wants. Between light and darkness. Between happiness and sadness. Between exposing my soul and keeping up with this world’s facade. Between hiding myself and being recognized. Between trying to live and wanting to die. Between putting up a brave face, keeping up the fight, or letting it all go down the drain. It’s as if there’s two different people in me with different and separate interest and there are no middle grounds and in-betweens where I could safely put up a white flag for a moment and tell myself, or this two polarity in me, “hey this is where we will rest, this where we will meet in between and discuss things peacefully and make good amends between our conflicting wants and needs.”

If we were having coffee, I will tell you that I’m trying to find the gray areas even though all I see is black and white. That sometimes I’m losing my hope, but I’m still trying to keep afloat. That sometimes the feeling of drowning and not going back to the surface feels better than the chaos of feelings that is constantly happening within me whenever I resurface. But I’m still trying. I’m still trying because as much as there are dark days, I’ve experienced good days, when the sun seems to shine brighter than before, and I forget all about what’s bothering me before.

If we were having coffee, I will tell you that on good days, it’s as if none of the dark days happened, like it never really happened at all. Even if it did, even if I have experienced it first hand and it consumed all my being at that moment. I would not be able to think of it, and I could not even bring it to mind even if I want. That’s how it is. On good days, it’s as if I’m the sun and nothing, not even the clouds, could dim my light. No amount of darkness could touch me. I am invincible. While on dark days, it’s as if I am the moon and I have just this limited light in me to shine on myself, and to you, and to others, and I am surrounded by everything that is dark so all I could think of is dark, and I’ve never even know what a bright day might look like.

And if we were having coffee, I will tell you this. That right at this moment, I’m standing on my gray area. That I found that writing is one of my in-betweens, and reading too, and sleeping. And you have nothing to worry about. 🙂

– – –
#WeekendCoffeeShare

Sidenote: I have recently imported my blog from pinkwoods.wordpress.com to here. Yey! Unfortunately, all the likes and some of the comments are not captured from my previous blog. 🙁 I tell you, life is so much easier with free wordpress! What have I gotten into. 😀 Anyway, I’m still tweaking things so please bear with me and hang on.

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Poetry, Writing Entries, Writings

A Heart Full

I carry within me a heart full
of stories and magic and new beginnings,
a heart full of hope and trust
and of love that never knows how to fade nor end.

So when you’ve grown weary and tired
of this world’s never ending charades
when putting on your daily mask
became too much to bear,

Remember me
For I shall carry yours within mine
and I’ll lend you mine
when yours start to fail.

 

Poetry, Writing Entries, Writings

Confused

When you did your best
but your best is not enough
When you pour your life and blood and insides out
and you sacrifice everything else
and it is still not enough
When every step up is two steps down
and everything you do is an uphill trudge.

Shouldn’t it be something like
Do your best and everything else will turn out okay?
Yet life doesn’t seem to work that way

Suddenly you found life has its own rules
and regulations
that you are not aware of,
and pitstops
and hidden tunnels
and sinking holes
that you never sign up for.

I’m confused, you say.
How did everything turn out like this?
It used to be rainbows and fairs
and cotton candies and laughters that
never seem to end.
When did the rules change?
Now everything else you do
seems to turn into ashes
and dust moats
and a pile of stinking garbage
for the future generations to tread on.

Why did everything change?, you asked
but no answers came,
just the sound of the howling wind passing by
and with every minute
that ticks
and tocks
you are left with a growing anxiety
that never stops.

 

– – –

In response to Daily Post: Confused and Inspiration Monday: Dust Moat

Prose, Random Thoughts, Writing Entries, Writings

Explaining sadness

It is the feeling of tiredness that creeps on you even if you haven’t done anything all day long. It is the crying spells that overtakes you when you are finally left all alone after a long day of pretending to be okay. It is the waking up every 2AM with your thoughts all jumbled up and morose. It is the desire to sleep all the time, to stubbornly stay on bed, and be continually lost in dreams that never makes sense. It is wanting to be somewhere that isn’t really here on the here and now. It is the staring contest at the ceiling, when you finally found a temporary peace in finding no thoughts, no chaos, no feelings, just a deep hollowed numbness at the center of your being.

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Prose, Writing Entries, Writings

Dreams and Coffee Talks

If we were having coffee, I would tell you about my dreams. I would tell you how I used to dream of being in a circus surrounded by lively music and people wearing colorful dresses and tunics, people that work together and bonded as family. I would tell you I dreamed of being a trapeze artist, always up high in the air, flying from loops to loops, light as air, and feet never touching the ground. I would tell you that I love heights. I love the feeling of falling and the feeling of excitement and hope it gives me, the hope that maybe when I jump, this time I would fly.

If we were having coffee, I would tell you that maybe I have a gypsy soul in me, the kind that can read palms and sees the future, the kind that is affected by the moon’s waxing and waning, the kind that would kiss a stranger because she has already met him in one of her dreams.

If we were having coffee, I would also tell you that I grew up shy, that I have soft bones, loose joints, and weak heart, and I am affected by loud noises and music. I would also tell you that my dreams are mostly nightmares, that my moods are worsts than the moon, and that I have seen him in my dreams, but when I met him, he’s already kissing someone else.

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