Tag Archives: blog

should i start riding the train?

I hate commuting
that’s why i live near my workplace
where i can just walk by the lake
or sometimes in the basement
where cars are parked –
the shortest path.
but when I do,
it takes me back
to the night i met you.
the night i remember
i just wanted to drink wine
so i passed by the familiar bar
in the basement.
i sat at one corner of the bar-
the bartender facing me
a stranger behind me
no one in my left side
and there you are in my right-
you’re murmuring something to me
while i was deep in my thoughts
i told you i was writing a poem about dying
but i doubt that you heard it
because you kept talking to me
and never stopped staring at me
until you asked me if i want
to go upstairs
i remember your blue eyes
begging me or have i mistaken
begging for seducing?
i did not answer.
but i found my dress on the floor
of an unfamiliar bedroom instead.
i forgot if it’s the red one, the orange one
or my favorite one.
i can’t keep track of which dress i wore
on those countless sleepless nights,
or did i even wear any?
because i can feel the white duvet
on my bare skin while thinking about
my unfinished poem
or did i even finish it?
if not, i want to write a poem about dying.
again. or
if it would mean i am still living.
or should i take the longest path?
or should i start riding the train?

Paula Bianca via Berlin ArtParasites

travelling_girl-wide

I Don’t Do Happy

Somewhere someone told me: “You’re too heavy to digest on a daily basis.”

It reminds me of what a reader once said to me a long time ago, that she will not recommend me for daily consumption. According to her, she didn’t yet meet someone who is constantly in a dark mood 365 days. People get depressed, have bad days, angry, hurt, grieving lonely and sad but not ceaselessly she said. In most cases, being down is an exception to the rule. Normal people are mostly happy most of the times she added. I, on the other hand, seem to have a perpetual dark cloud hanging above my head, following me everywhere and on occasions releasing torrents of rain if not thunder and lightning.

Before the revelation, I was not aware that I was projecting this kind of image out there. I thought I was just being me, relating things the way I always do: honest and straight to the point without beating around the bushes. In fact, I didn’t realize I sound pessimistic. Like in real life, I tell stories matter of factly. I never like drama nor I ever aspire to play a victim. It is simply not my way of handling things. I can’t help that my life happened the way it happened. Believe me, if I could choose, I would have chosen another path you can be sure of that.

But according to my mother-in-law, it isn’t the constant dark mood that is the problem with me because she never has seen a more well-disposed individual than I am. (She must know because we go together on a three week holiday each year.) It is those weighty/heavy conversations I seem to favor that the problem is. Most people don’t do these kinds of talks because they are often revealing, confronting and emotionally taxing. 

 I beg to disagree. 

What they call a heavy conversation is to me a chit-chat. If they want me to go shallower than that, I might as well shut up. Why spent hours talking if you have nothing sensible to say? If you are not genuinely interested in the person/people you are taking with, why pretend? Why spend time with each other? Why bother?

Anyway, I still don’t believe I really am like that. I could believe I am not everyone’s cup of tea, it’s nothing new to me but perpetually dark mood and favoring emotionally taxing conversations … no.

Again, it reminds me of yet another incident which happened again, a long time ago when people I then acquainted with said another thing which again wasn’t true.

I didn’t know anymore how it all begun and what was the reason but while sitting on a terrace looking down to a group I used to hang out with back then, I heard one of them said I have a frozen heart. Then someone chimed in: “Frozen? It would be better if her heart is only frozen so there will still be a chance of thawing it but if you ask me her heart isn’t frozen it is made of iron.” Laugher followed. Not to be outdone, another one of them stated: “Iron you said? Then my friend you are wrong. Her heart is made of concrete it is impossible to melt.” Another burst of laughter.

They were aware I was watching. They knew I was there, hearing their comments, and I believe they mean no harm and only fooling around and the remarks didn’t make me angry or hurt but it made me think though. It made me realized how wrong they were and how little did they know me.

It reminds me of what my mother said to me once upon a time. She said I am not capable of loving anyone. I don’t know if she was talking about herself because her own judgment certainly is applicable to her. My ex-husband would agree with her though because according to him I am a man-hater.

The truth is I am neither one of those they were accusing me of. I just didn’t find anyone yet worth___ how could I say it? Loving? Losing myself? Breaking my heart over with? Crying buckets full? I don’t know also on what they were basing their opinions of me. All I know is they aren’t true. And I’m getting better. There was a time I could not incorporate the world love in writing I always substitute it with aarrgh instead. And I am not terrified of colors anymore. I can stand them now on my blog. I still favor black and white or sepia but colors are no longer banned.

But still, I don’t do happy. I cannot. I don’t know where to begin.

If I say I am watching a beautiful bird and I like it, am I happy?

If I enjoy walking in the city, am I happy?

If some days I feel blessed and content, am I happy?

How do I know I am happy? What happiness feels like?

Can you tell me?

rp1e

Karma Is a Bitch

I was always the one who left, broke hearts, and made grown men cry. I didn’t care who they were, or how many. I lost count a long time ago. But now I find myself on the other side. I’m the one who can’t leave even though I know I should. The door is wide open but I don’t move. So this is how it feels. It’s like all their broken hearts and crushed hopes are coming back to punish me.  — Sweet Serenity

Guilty. Guilty all the way.

I didn’t only break hearts, I trampled them into pieces and walk away without a backward glance.

Don’t get me wrong. I never intended to hurt anyone. It just happened that way. I was upfront with my intentions. Never deceive. I never lied about my age, who I am and my relationship status. They knew what they were getting into right from the start. 

Whatever I said and did during the entire affair, I meant it with all my heart.

But what happened in Vegas stays in Vegas. I can’t let fantasy ruin my reality. I always left everything (and everyone) behind the moment I boarded the plane. So simple is that.

In theory, it is. But there were complications sometimes. Few of them had threatened to make a mess of my carefully separated existence. None of them passed the threshold of my home and my heart. Both are intact.

None of them was the reason for the break up of my marriage. It was doomed from the start and already beyond saving when I found out that eat your heart out is a wonderful, wonderful motto. Have a taste of your own medicine. Nobody likes the taste it seems. And life goes on.

I lost the taste for it.  I lost the patience and got tired of running. I settled down. I often ask myself if it is the right decision. I miss the chase. I miss the fun. I miss being alive. But time waits for no one. I was not the girl I once was. Perhaps deep down inside I didn’t really change, but the effect of the fountain of youth I discovered once upon a time is slowly wearing off and wearing thin. Mirrors don’t lie. Though it is still early summer in my heart, in reality, it’s November. Winter will be here soon. Sooner than I wish. Sooner than I want.

See you next time.

good_moments_in_bad_weather_by_dannyst-d3byaj1

Paradoxically Yours

I’m a paradox. I want to be happy, but I think of things that make me sad. I’m lazy, yet I’m ambitious. I don’t like myself, but I also love who I am. I say I don’t care, but I really do. I crave attention but reject it when it comes my way. I’m a conflicted contradiction. If I can’t figure myself out, there’s no way anyone else has.

― Imjust-a-girl

Wu_Sugar-Spice-and-Everything-Nice-970x450

Butterfly Effect

I was watching the movie the other night (out of nothing better to do) and I realized that I have something in common with the lead character; an urge to make everything the way it supposed to be, in other words, __ perfect.

He traveled back and forth, back and forth to the future/past to set everything straight, often resulted in more disastrous events. In the end, he got it right but who knows what will happens next.

His actions remind me of myself when one time out of a strong desire to iron a crease that was barely there I burned a new Michael Kors coat. And that wasn’t the only mistake I made trying to make things right. I killed plants that way. I ruined a couple of my paintings and sketches, scratched for real the paintwork of my laptop trying to eliminate imaginary scratches, and dozens of other little things with catastrophic effect. 

I have an image in my head and I cannot rest until I am satisfied that everything is the way it supposed to be,__perfect.

Unlike other “psychological” issues in my life, this one I can trace back to my childhood. To a mother who married someone beneath her out of necessity and missed opportunities to better her life resulting in trying to live her dreams and regain her chances through her children particularly me. Good wasn’t good enough. No margin for errors, punishments were a must, encouragement/support/compliments/help unheard of, and speaking back and speaking your mind were a big no-no. Like I said in one of my posts, she once tied me around a foot of a big table whole night without supper simply because I failed to recite “Our Father” prayer in English. 

I grew up to be a perfectionist and expect no less from others. I cannot tolerate mistakes and stupidity especially from myself. I am my own biggest critic. Before anyone else has criticized me, I have already criticized myself. And often times than not when looking at myself, I cannot find something positive.

Like the lead character in the movie, I will gladly sacrifice myself, my own happiness/health/life if it means good for those I hold dear. I know the consequences of this action. I know them all too well. I suffered them all my life and some of them are still lingering making my existence an ordeal. But we all got choices and what matters the most to us is what really matters the most—that what we most value is what is most valuable to us so to each his own. 

Like the film Premonition, I think what Butterfly Effect (the movie) trying to convey-aside from every action no matter how little or insignificant has consequences- is we can’t change destiny. We can only alter the course but not the result. We will get there no matter what. It could be via a short or long way but eventually, we will get to our destination so, stop avoiding the inevitable and try to make the ride as enjoyable as we possibly could.

See You next time.   

652201be088f16eca255917cd5bb48ff

Guilty I Am

Remember the time I wrote an article about feeling guilty whenever I eat? Well, that is not the only thing I’m feeling guilty about.

I feel guilty if by the end of the day I have nothing to show for it. What I mean is I have an immense urge to always create and do something I can’t sit still for more than five minutes. I feel guilty if I’m not doing anything. I feel that it is a waste of time to sit and relax while you can do a million things instead. Not only I want to create I also want a proof of my labor. A tangible proof. Something I or someone else could admire and cherish. Something beautiful, something creative. If I don’t have it when the day ends, I feel worthless and guilty.

Again, I don’t know why. 

No one told or taught me to feel guilty if I’m idle. If ever, I don’t remember. The reason behind this is probably the same one why I don’t indulge in idle remarks or mere social chit-chat__ it’s pointless. If you want to say something, say something meaningful, remarkable or unforgettable. Say something kind and true and always meant it. Don’t say anything for the sake of__ just saying something or because you think someone wanted to hear what you’re about to say or just placating a person for whatever reason. And for God’s sakes don’t talk about the weather! And don’t start your greetings with “How are you?” if you don’t really want to know the answer to your inquiries or don’t have the time to really listen to the other person’s woes. Don’t say anything out of politeness. If you have nothing truthful or substantial to say shut your mouth and walk away. 

What else I’m feeling guilty about?

Cleaning and tidying. 

I’m a very clean person. I’m keen on hygiene. Not only personal hygiene but about everything. No, I’m not Mysophobic, just clean. And on top of it, I hate clutter. I cannot stand glasses, cups or anything unnecessary on the kitchen counter or coffee table. My espresso machine and water cooker are in the cupboard and only going to be out when needed. No shoes on the hallway and no coats either. People often describe my house as something that jumps out from the pages of a lifestyle magazine. My mother-in-law said my house is clinically clean. My daughter once remarks that it seems nobody lives in my place and one state agent told me that you can eat on the floor of my abode.

Of course, it isn’t true.

I just cannot rest if my house and garden are dirty and cluttered, but clinically clean it isn’t. There is dust everywhere. My house is a dust magnet. I can wipe the table clean and when I turn around, the dust has already settled in. And there seems to be always something on the floor. Mostly strands of my hair which is by the way so noticeable against the light tiles. No, my house and routine are ordinary. Just like me. 

I think I’m going to leave it here before I get totally carried away and say something irrelevant to the topic (as if I didn’t do just that) or something I might regret later.

See you next time?

7765000038

Random Thoughts On Wednesday

I wish I could say I have a love-hate relationship with food, at least, that way, there is still one positive side to it but the truth is I neither love nor hate food. For me consuming any form of nourishment is nothing but a necessary evil. I don’t enjoy the act nor the taste. My father said I eat like a soldier and it doesn’t change since then. I gobble and gulp the food as if there is no tomorrow and with minimal chewing. The sooner it’s done the better. If I have one feeling which associated with food that would be guilt.

I feel guilty when I eat and I don’t know why. Never been anorexic or bulimic. Never had so much issue with my weight. Of course, I don’t want to get fat who does anyway but a serious problem regarding weight I never have. But I feel guilty nonetheless when consuming a fair quantity of food. What is a fair amount in my book? Eating three times or more a day. I feel that I should be eating only once or not at all. If I could skip a meal or two, That would be ideal. I feel better that way. Believe you me if I can go on without food I will, there is no doubt about that.

I only eat when I’m dying of hunger or craving for something. Mostly fried crunchy food because sweets I can’t tolerate. I never fancy cakes or ice cream. I can eat them without a problem (if you consider lactose and gluten intolerance not a problem) but I draw the line at chocolates. No matter how hard I try I simply cannot acquire the taste for it. I can go so far as saying I hate them. I don’t care if they are artisanal or expensive coated with eatable gold leaf, if it’s chocolate, I pass.

So, where is my aversion for food originated from?

From my youth, where else you might say, but I don’t think so. We were poor and every meal we considered a feast back then. I grew up on a diet of seafood being born and bred in a fishpond. Meat was scarce and so hard to come by we only had them once a week on Sunday. If you want to know a little bit more about how my life was when I was growing up, you can read some of the painful details here and here.

Anyway, whatever psychological issues I have with food, I don’t know where it comes from. All I can say is: Food doesn’t excite me. I wish I can go on without.

monks-with-rice-bowls-inle-lake-huy-lam

A Safari Experience

Last Saturday was a corporate family day. They do this event once a year. I like it better than any other social occasions like Christmas party and such because, for an introvert like me, it’s heaven. You can be among people you are not forced to socialize with. They hired the entire place for member only, free food and drinks and personnel enough to cater to your needs. What could be better than that?

This time it was a zoo they hired. I was skeptical. I hate animals in captivity and if they are there to parade for your pleasure, I hate it even more. That is why I don’t go to the circus or zoo. But I was pleasantly surprised. There were no cages, no fences, all natural open-air surroundings. What they did basically is to turn acres of acres into a jungle, then section off the place into different rooms, each designed for the needs of a particular animal. The division is so subtle it isn’t obvious and each section is so huge you can get lost. You will have an impression that the birds are free to fly around but if you look closely, high above are concealed nets to keep the birds where they are supposed to be. You can even walk among the vultures. They keep track of your movements but other than that, they are pretty docile. The enclosures and viewing areas are so cleverly designed that you can watch the animals without interfering with their privacy. They don’t even know you are watching them.

They named the areas according to the kind of animals you will discover in that specific place; what do you think of Rainforest, Taiga, Tundra and Savannah? Inviting, isn’t it? 

There is an amazing play area for the kids (including big kids) with a huge seating area to rest tired feet, also a number of small play areas dotted along the way.  And those little interactive sections throughout the zoo are also fascinating. There are restaurants and places to drink and have snacks. The parking area is big enough to accommodate thousands of visitors. All and all, it was a positive Safari experience. No wonder the establishment is voted year after year including this year the best park in the country.

I don’t know if I’m going to be back. I hate doing things twice and new surroundings are much preferable than something I’ve already seen. Besides, once you already have seen something, the novelty is gone. How many ways you can see a giraffe for example.

But I did learn something. The lesson I’m walking away with is ‘give something a chance’ who knows, like me, you could be in for a very pleasant surprise.

(Pardon any mistakes. Too tired and too lazy to edit today)

Artwork-by-Kevin-Peterson-11

Calendar

“Time spins away like a mad spider’s web, cast open over the gulf of time and existence…the pages of the calendars tear themselves off the screen, like in old movies. The pages flip past before we realize. It’s astounding! I never remember traveling this quickly in the past.”

Here we are again, another year is about to end before it could really begin. It seems like only yesterday when we started writing 2018 on greeting cards, personal agendas, and journals and look where we are now, Christmas is just around the corner and Halloween is on the threshold following hard on the heels of Thanksgiving and after that, another year, a new beginning all over again.

What I have learned this year?

Well, after years of waiting for a definitive conclusion, I now have a clear diagnose of what is wrong with me. They say I have Fibromyalgia as a direct result of Ehlers–Danlos syndrome along with Rheumatoid Arthritis, Arthrosis and all the painful consequences of the illness. I have Celiac disease and Lactose intolerance and I have abdominal ulcer since I was sixteen.

I learned how to take care of succulents and Cacti. They are still dying on me on a regular basis but out of my 200 collections, only ten of them have perished due to TLC. One died today.

I also learned the importance and benefits of air purifying plants around the house. I suffer from chronic grass/pollen allergy the whole year through and I have a serious case of sinusitis. Since I have my green babies, I have yet to visit a doctor’s office. The only downside of indoors gardening is it is quite addictive. I found out that you can never have enough plants to satisfy your cravings.

What else I have learned this year?

I found out during my three weeks vacation in La Palma that I am not as daring as adventurous as I thought I was nor I love peace and quiet that much. Though my son said to me that the real reason why I don’t do any more risky endeavors is because I have already done it all before and it is long lost its charm since then. I blame it on old age.

I learned how to use make-up and dress up properly without losing sight of comfort which I value the most. I learned to budget and the importance of wants versus needs. I am still learning the art of minimalism in the true meaning of the word which means Minimalism is a tool to rid yourself of life’s excess in favor of focusing on what’s important so you can find happiness, fulfillment, and freedom that allows you to pursue purpose-driven lives.— Sounds great, right? Easier said than done believe me.

This year I discovered the value of learning to accept, forgive and love yourself. I hope to master the art of letting go of the past next year.

What about you?

Do you think that time does really fly?

Did you learn something new this year?

What is your hope for next year?

If you have the time, tell me. I appreciate other people’s stories.

Have a wonderful weekend and see you next week.

1002919_476567532458061_450245186_n

What “Love Yourself” really Means

I’ve always been a master at giving love to others.

However, when it came to giving love to myself, I fell short.

I noticed the way I loved others was skewed; I had no limit to how much I gave. Even when people walked all over me, I kept on giving. In the end, I blamed other people for either not loving me back or for not meeting my expectations.

The idea of loving and giving to others is in itself beautiful and something we should all practice. But, I’ve realized that before giving someone our all, we should decide “why” we’re giving. The motivation behind our love for others speaks greatly of our own self-love. Personally, I gave some people so much in the past, because I was the one who needed love. I unconsciously gave them the love I wanted to be given, and I ended up building expectations around them that they couldn’t meet.

Consequently, I’ve realized that I loved a few people for all the wrong reasons—that if I could only give myself the love I need, I would be happy, and I wouldn’t need to pressure people into giving me more than they can. This is what I realized when I stopped neglecting myself. However, I won’t fool you into thinking that I’m some expert in self-love now; I’m still exploring who I am and how to love myself. But, I have learned a thing or two about self-love over the past few years—which has also affected and altered my way of loving other people.

My love for others has become healthier and separate from my own neediness.

It is said that we must love ourselves first before loving anyone else (or before we can find the love of our life). While this stands true, we shouldn’t practice self-love just for the sake of finding “the one.” Self-love isn’t a means to an end. We should love ourselves for the sake of ourselves first—for our own happiness, benefit, and comfort. Later, when we follow this path, everything else falls into place.

So, how do we do this thing called “self-love”? When I realized I needed to love myself, I didn’t know where to begin—I didn’t even know what “love yourself” means. Now, after years of building a relationship with who I am, I’ve realized that asking ourselves this one question helps us figure out the answer: “How do you love the closest people to your heart?” Think of one person you dearly love and respect (it could be your parent, your partner, your friend, or maybe even your pet). Reflect on how you treat them, how you’d never want to see them unhappy, and how you look after them. Now, do this for yourself…this is how to begin.

When we love ourselves, we are confident in who we are. We don’t need validation on how we look, feel, what choices we make, or what beliefs we adopt. Other people’s opinions become an inspiration or an addition, rather than a dealbreaker. We stop asking for validation when we become our own support system.

We set boundaries with others.

Why do we need to set boundaries with others? Because we know that not setting boundaries with people allows them to take us for granted or take advantage of us, which only breeds misery. To love ourselves means to learn to say “no” when we need to. Not because we’re rude or selfish, but because our emotional and intellectual health comes first. It could be as simple as saying “no” to a hangout if we’re tired or as serious as leaving a relationship that doesn’t meet our values.

We look after ourselves.

Physically and emotionally. You don’t do what hurts your body or spirit. You leave situations, jobs, or relationships that suck the life out of you or devalues you in any way. You avoid drama and what brings you down. To love myself means that I can smell misery a thousand miles away, identify it, and choose not to be part of it.

We’re okay with who we are.

This is a big one. You see, we’re not perfect human beings, and it’s fine. Loving ourselves means accepting our emotions as they are in the present moment. Whether we feel something good or bad, we pause, notice the feeling, and allow it to be. Even when we make a mistake, we are capable of meeting ourselves with honesty and forgiveness. We learn the lesson, understand our imperfections, and will be ready to move on to the next chapter.

We spend time alone.

Loving yourself means dedicating time to yourself the same way you’d dedicate time to other people. You go for coffee alone, watch a movie, read, exercise, and so on. Alone time is pivotal for self-love because it teaches us abundantly about ourselves. Since there’s nobody around us, it means our thoughts, emotions, and choices are not affected or manipulated. Thus, we learn more about what we love, what we don’t like, what we accept, what makes us happy, and what doesn’t.

More importantly, self-love doesn’t include labeling being alone as loneliness or misery. We understand that alone time is healthy and fun. We practice it for our own sake—and being okay with being alone also allows us to give those we love the space they need and the freedom to be because we know we need this space as well.

We don’t stop loving ourselves.

Loving ourselves is not a trip to the mall; it’s a journey that has no end or destination. Just like we would check our bank account, weight, or schedule, we weekly (if not daily) check how our self-love practice is going. For instance, I keep a journal. I’ve been doing this for more than 10 years. Every once in a while, I go through what I wrote the months before and scrutinize my emotions, thoughts, and the lessons—and I work on what I should tweak for myself or toward my behavior with others.

We love others.

Because we value the importance of love, we learn how to love others the same way. We must understand that how we treat ourselves is a reflection of how we treat others and vice versa. That said, we give the same amount of love to others mindfully and consciously. We love others because they, too, want our love—and not because there’s a void within us we need to fill.

~Relephant: via Elyane Youssef

mirror_by_smth_fresh

The Balance Between The Bright Colors Of Humor, Serious Issues Of Identity, Self-loathing, The Possibility For Intimacy And The Love That Is No Longer Necessary.

“I hate solitude, but I’m afraid of intimacy. The substance of my life is a private conversation with myself which to turn into a dialogue would be equivalent to self-destruction. The company which I need is the company which a pub or a cafe will provide. I have never wanted a communion of souls. It’s already hard enough to tell the truth to oneself.”

― Iris Murdoch

daccf3720f0a3763f73562337a93a2a8