Out of the Box

It's been a while...

I'm actually in the middle of scrambling for words..for thoughts..So this is how it's like when you have been in blogging hiatus for a couple of months..

But really..the point is. I decided to blog not because I still want to blog.

As a matter of fact, I decided not to blog at all.

Because blogging makes me feel so conscious about needing to perfect my words, my grammar, make flawless coherent flow of discussion because when you create a blog, you must have a specific area of expertise to talk about. Or genre -- like in music. Moreover, blogging makes me want to please my audience. or for this case --get some audience who will like what I talk about.

And I don't think that is healthy for me. The last thing that I would want to do for myself is to set a box around me and further cage my soul.

I want to be free.

So from this day on, I will not blog. I will never blog.

I will write. Regardless of what the topic is, regardless of how absurd I could get, regardless of whether someone would like to waste time reading my every mumble and squabble.

For as long as I'm writing from my heart, I'll continue. Simply because I want to. Not because I ought to or need to.

This is not a blog. This is simply a compilation of my heart's beat, a journal per se.

Over plan. Then go with the flow.

The time it takes to spill your guts--or perhaps the time it takes to summon the guts to tell your story--always differs from situation to situation. Either way, guts are involved and it's messy and makes you feel like your showing everyone your "insides" while everyone else shows their best "outsides." It's taken me a while to spill these particular guts of mine because in a way, I've been hoping for a different ending to this particular situation.

And of course, I think it's important to show the vulnerable parts of ourselves. But you surely knew that already. I write about it often.

So here I am once again, getting a little wild. With my words.

 My dreams have been yanked out from right underneath me and it's a hurt you just can't explain. It feels suspiciously like a breakup. And I don't know how much more this battered heart of mine can take this year.

So, for now, I am applying for jobs , keeping my head high, hoping that this will make sense eventually. In the meantime, it's one of those things you take day-by-day. Enjoy the moments as they come.

And pray to God this year will start to look up soon.

Inaccurate

Maybe more often than not, it's not necessary to be sure of things. Observation-wise, it has been consistent that "accuracy" is nothing but a trivial concept. I could relate making choices with holding a gun. As much as we keep our eyes wide open and focused on the target, reality is, we're all blindfolded. But we're not hand-cuffed, and that's one thing to be thankful about. I reckon that people who fail are the ones who spent their lifetime trying to peek through their blindfold. Meanwhile, successful people are the ones who maximizes the utility of their other senses and smell through or hear through the environment, awaiting for the right time to pull the trigger.

Maybe that's why we're all allowed to make mistakes. Because there's no right amount of knowledge nor right combination of skill to ensure that you arrive at the correct ends. Sometimes, the things that you are so sure about are the exact things that should be doubted and given much thought. Conversely, the least expected can sometimes be the rightful choice. 

Maybe I'm Not

I'm not afraid of failures.

I'm afraid of regrets. 

I'm not afraid of being criticized.

I'm afraid of not being able to stand up for myself when such circumstances arise.

I'm not afraid of looking like a fool.

I'm afraid of being expected to be perfect.

I'm not afraid to get broken.

I'm afraid of pretending to be heartless. 

I'm not afraid of crying in public after a bad day.

I'm afraid of crying alone for no reason at all.

I'm not afraid to look back or to move forward.

I'm afraid of not being able to enjoy what's in the "present."

I'm not afraid of losing.

I'm afraid of not being able to justify why I won.

I'm not afraid of being just like anyone.

I'm afraid of being singled out as someone.

I'm not afraid of being unattractive.

I'm afraid of being seen "just as a pretty face."

I'm not afraid of speaking my mind.

I'm afraid to tell what's in my heart.

I'm not afraid of doing things I'm not supposed to.

I'm afraid of not doing things I'm supposed to.

I'm not afraid of dying.

I'm afraid of not living my life to the best that I can.

I'm not afraid of being brave.

I'm afraid of being a coward.

Chasing Dreams: Can You Handcraft Miracles?

..Almost two years ago..but still my favorite composition..

Can you handcraft miracles?or wait for it to arrive?

do you grab it in mid-air?

or does it fall right into place?

If I pray harder, would a no still be a No?

And if I pray less, would a yes be less of a Yes? 

Are miracles really heaven sent? 

Or mere products of hard work and luck?

If you wish with all your heart,

kneel down and be humbled,

will every beat of your heart resound to heaven?

or will it make no difference?

Shall I finally hear an approval?

Shall His desire be of one with mine?

Shall He listen to me beg?

or shall it be another "not yet my dear, not now."

What difference does "not yet" make from a "no"?

If both stems from "not", thus hurt like one?

does "not yet" mean "someday it will"

or only will the waiting would only keep the hurt longer?

If i cross my fingers, catch a falling star,

break a wishing bone, light 999 candles,

rearrange the furniture, turn the plate three times,

will heaven forbid? will heaven hear me?

If I lay down all day and night, count sheep on my head

stop wishing, stop hoping, stop believing --

will the pain of waiting and wishing stop?

or will the pain of  "wanting-to-stop-yet-you-cant" hurt even more?

...Can you handcraft miracles?

...or wait for it to arrive?

...do you grab it in mid-air?

...or does it fall right into place?

...Are miracles really heaven sent? 

...Or mere products of hard work and luck?



or shall I stop wishing?

Unsolicited Rigmarole

Five years ago, when i began writing-blogging-doodling (whatever you call it), I was nervous. And i'd be lying if I didn't say I still get a bit apprehensive each time I click "publish." Aside from worrying about my grammar, space indention, and spelling, I get anxious when I think about people reading about things that I don't necessarily share in "real life." You see, in real life, i have a thick outer shell that encapsulates my being -- my introspect, my kaleidescope, my core, my soft spot. 

Vocabulary-wise, being headstrong is different from being tough. You can't block emotions just as how you could block and contradict thoughts. So, I'd say, I'd rather fake a smile than get down with the nitty gritty mishaps of life and break down right in your eyes. 

The problem with this tactic? The problem with pretending it's all sunhine and roses? People believe you. They don't know if something hurt your feelings if you just shrug your shoulders and laugh it off. It's not their fault. I can't expect anyone to know the difference. Afterall, who could have cared to penetrate that stubborn outer shell?

The thing is, my blog -- It's given me a place to write about the things which are hard for me to come about in the "real world". I'm extremely timid and private when asked about my feelings, or when people get to read about it. Yes I'm pretty selective, I have a handful of people to whom I could entrust to share about what I feel. And this includes my journal (old school and dusty) and my blog. 

Here's the other thing: it's so much easier to open up about things here, to people I've never met, but are much much supportive and less judgmental about me. At the most, I'm freed from conforming into other's boxes about me. It helps me grow and morph into a better me, or at least, someone I would like to be. 

However, this also leaves me feeling vulnerable. 

Once I had a friend who told me that if a guy has a crush on me and sees my blog, it will scare him off. That really bothered me, so I almost took down on my blog. 

But then after a little thought and head-scratching, I'd still say, I don't care. Or it's more like "I'll try not to care." I'd rather have my blog than to be conscious about what guys would think of me. Label me a geek, a nerd, a monk (if you wish, because at times, I like to talk about God). I'd rather date my laptop if that's the case. 

I know, my blog is just another blog full of rigmarole, but I'm still pretty proud. 

My Eternal Sunshine. 

And it's not about being prolific. It's about being sincere. 

Senseless Ramblings

In retrospect, I had a lot of optimism and courage. 

Growing up with the view that everything is possible or attainable, I always had high hopes for getting what I wanted. And perhaps, that could be a good reason behind my determinism. Because when I set on my target, whether it's up a tall hill or deep down a sink hole, I'm on it and there's no turning back. 

I wish I still see things like that..

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But I guess, people view things differently at different times in their life...

I don't know if I'm seeing it this way because I got more valuable experiences than I had before...

I don't know if I'm seeing it this way because experiences have led me to know fear...

I don't know if I'm seeing it this way because I'm wiser...

All I know is...

I'm slowly becoming such a nerve and a coward..and I cannot continue seeing things this way.

I have to take on risks and move forward.

Crap.

I miss her badly..