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‘The Art of Thought’

Describe four stages of creativity: preparation, incubation, illumination, and verification. Incubation means giving your thinking so far to your subconscious and then sitting back and waiting or better, giving the conscious mind something useful to do.

~ Graham Wallas



That’s me when I have already made up my mind. Yes, I have an iron will but only when I’m sure of my right. Sometimes I’ve been asked how I get through the divorce, how I processed the whole thing and I’ve read about people who had hard times with the transition from one life to another, the guilty phase, the loneliness, the doubts, the anger, the heartbreaks, and I can’t say I can relate because I can’t. I never get through all these. Maybe because I made sure that before I close one chapter of my life I always see to it that it is truly finished, that I already did all in my power to make the relationship works often to the point that I let people walk all over me. 

It takes for me a lifetime to say quits but once I heard that tell-tale click in my brain, nothing, and no one can change my mind. They can die before my eyes, literally and I will not even bat an eyelash. Once I get over something, I truly get over it. I am not the one to play hard to get, it’s either I’m in or I’m out. I have no patience for guessing or chasing games, that’s for children. Say what you mean and mean what you say and stand and stick with your decision once you decided and suffer the consequences. We’re adults for God’s sakes. That’s (one of) my motto. 

I’ve been accused of being a hard bargain simply because I refused to play or follow the rules. My mentor (who by the way said to me that every time she was in for a meeting with me she not only mentally preparing herself for the confrontation the night before she literally bracing herself, holding her desk with both hands before I came in the room because she knew by experience that whatever I was about to say will guarantee to blow her away) told me that I go on in life like a horse with blinkers, that once in a while it will do me good to consider also other people’s perspective. But then again she doesn’t really know me. She doesn’t know (and I didn’t tell her- I’m not good at depending my myself- if someone thinks or says I’m a whore then so be it. Everybody is entitled to their own opinion. What is the point of telling otherwise when they are already made up their minds?) that before I come to a decision, it means I have already considered other options, weighed and compared them to mine, deliberated their significance in the big picture and then come to conclusion. 

True I decide fast but never in a hurry. And once I’ve reached my decision, I am resolute. Uncompromising indeed.

How about you? Are you relentless?



No words can put anything or anyone in the box attach a label to it and stay politically correct than typical. It’s a form of expression that is open to interpretation. Like saying everything and nothing. Nothing that can incriminate you in the court of law or anywhere and still pass judgment. Everyone can fill in the blank as they wish but nothing anyone can trace back to you because you actually said nothing. In just one word one can express one’s distaste and disapproval and a whole lot more, everyone will understand, no need to add more. If you say ‘typical’ it says all.



I realized that I had lost too many people. People who left me, and people I left. People who stopped loving me, and people I never stopped loving. People who forgot me, and people I will never forget. In between the silence of outgrowing people and the heartbreak of striking differences, life slapped us all into reality.

From far, I see a young man arm-in-arm
with a woman, and he is walking as if
there’s spring in his feet. And he sees me,
and he smiles in the way men do when
they think they have made it. 
And I feel sad: I say you poor bastard.
Sooner or later, they all leave,
and your legs will tire out. Give it few years,
and you won’t even be able to pee standing.
He’s wearing a fancy cologne; he makes a joke
and the woman giggles. Maybe she says
how funny he is. I can see he’s feeling proud.
His chest bulges, his shoulders are upright.
And he again looks at me. And I feel sad:
I say you poor bastard. Soon enough,
you will slur, and you will drool. And she
won’t be there when you wet your bed
because you’re fucking old. I imagine the day
when he first finds out the cruel joke that
has been played on him. Oh, I fear for him.
Now, he’s laughing as she almost falls into
his arms. And I feel sad: you poor bastard.
The weather is beautiful today.
Laugh while you still can.

~Honest Musing via Facebook



My ex-husband said that in order to be with me he had to continue tearing down walls and slaying dragons. Tasks that he thought once he conquered my world would be over and done with. Which reminds me of something my only brother once told me. That in order to be close to me one has to be upright and noble or otherwise one would never even glimpse a portion of my shadow. I am/was not aware that I’m doing these things they are accusing me of. For me, I’m just being me. Nothing more nothing less.

Yes, I have my requirements. Haven’t we all? 

Money status looks education background and upbringing matters but they are not important and not the way to impress me. 

True I would never consider having to do with someone who is attached married or taken but only because I don’t want to hurt the feelings of others.

I admit I will never never have a relationship let alone marry someone who is widowed divorced or separated. In my eyes, if two people terminated their union it means it takes two to tango, it will never be the fault of just one party, it means both of them did something terribly wrong. I didn’t escape one hell only to land in another. Carrying my own emotional baggage is heavy enough, I don’t want to be with someone who is equally if not more laden. No thank you. Only single needs apply.

Also true that I prefer non-drinker non-smoker than those who do. My ex- smokes, and drinks (he doesn’t have any limit in these areas and all fatal consequences don’t scare him away from his habits) in our twenty years of marriage, I didn’t kiss him with open mouth. Not even once. 

I rather be with someone who can carry a decent conversation and can follow me on any topic than anyone who looks like Tom Cruise or Brad Pitt (both I dislike) I believe in romancing the brain first before moving further anywhere else. I like someone who can teach and introduce me to new things and can lead and propel me to new horizons. I also insist that he could swim competitively or at least better than me. You never know when he might necessarily save me from drowning. With me, those situations are not far off.

I can list a lot of things more but these will do for now. They are my main requirements. Everything that falls outside these categories is negotiable. Except gambling. No gambling with money in my neighborhood. And tattoos. No tattoos either. Not even itchy bitsy teeny one. Piercing too. Lots of materials to write on and do your own art. I draw a line on using bodies as a substitute for canvas. 

I guess I will leave it here or otherwise we are in for a long read. See you next time?



When I was young(er) let’s say older than the normal age of someone who supposed to be doing what I was doing, I used to camp around cemeteries at 2:00 a.m. playing spirit of the glass trying to summon anything that cares to be summoned. I even broke into an abandoned subdivision that had been collapsed and buried most of its inhabitants (alive) and their houses due to multiple engineering failures design flaws and material faults. They say there is a very strong connection to the other side in places where there are humans casualties. I thought I would have better luck there but of course I was wrong. I once forced open a deserted house to perform my conjuring trick inside but again without success. I don’t know what I was thinking those times. Temporary insanity probably. Abandoned dilapidated rundown ruins and graveyards still attract and fascinate me and I still invite myself in from time to time but not to do what I used to do but to take photographs and just walk around and admire what is left. I can’t help it. I find these places beautiful. Even better, interesting. Mysterious. Magical. 



I’m always on time, contrary to what the world says about our sense of punctuality. We are so famous for our habit of tardiness (along with equally famous mañana habit also known as the love of procrastinating) that we’ve been given a term for it — Filipino Time. Americans coined the phrase in the 1900’s because they were annoyed by our lack of respect when it comes to honoring appointments by coming on time. Tardiness is widely practiced in our country in all walks of life and generally accepted as part of our culture. I, myself don’t understand it and cannot tolerate it from others but what is my wish compared to those of the majority.

Besides, I can’t say that patience is really one of my virtues. I even have trouble waiting for the bathtub to be filled with hot water I rather take a shower.

When it comes to appointments or even a simple family visit (their places or mine) I will have a difficulty sleeping the night before, thinking all sorts of scenarios, all about what could go wrong. Meetings stress me out to the max sometimes I really believe it would cause me a heart attack. Funny thing is, you can’t detect any of those inner turmoils the moment itself. I’m cool as a cucumber (and I’m not pretending) being an extroverted introvert – I know how confusing it is for people so to give you some idea what I’m talking about allow me to directly quote an article I’ve read on the net:  Everyone expects an introvert to be shy and reclusive. And we can be, but extroverted introverts also like to get out there and mix ‘n mingle. When we’re “on”, we are sociable and friendly. When we’re “off”, we hurry home to recharge in solitude. Even though we spend way more time introverting than following the crowd, people only see our outgoing side. They don’t realize that our social batteries are drained very quickly and so forth and so on – I manage social gatherings pretty well and can enjoy them up to a certain degree. Beyond that, lights off for me.

But like I said, detest it or not, I’m always on time. And if something happened in between that hinders me to be punctual, I see to it that I let those who are involved know that I will be late or will not show up at all plenty of time beforehand.

What about you? What are your views about punctuality?


Daily Prompt:Tardy 



In all forms.

A guarantee to evoke my wrath. 

I’m a champion of the underdogs.

Though I am not always aware of it.

Others brought it to my attention.

They say injustice never failed to get a reaction from me.

Maybe they are right.

I can’t stand anything that has to do with abuse.

That and stupidity.

In all forms.

voodoo-spells3 (2)


Another year came and went. It is gone before I can get used to it. Life seems to be passing (me) by quickly and at the same time days seem to be getting longer. You got that when you’re alone. I guess.

Here we are standing on the threshold of another 365 days of blank pages waiting to be stamped on with our personal stories. Last night I thought: What could I do differently this year? Maybe I could venture out of my cave more often, be neighborly, do some courtesy visits to my guests, especially those who take time to pass by my space. Learn to market myself better, be more active in social media, join groups, participate in prompts, be a part of (blogging) communities, in short: be everything I’m not. 

I will definitely try to be more mobile and occupied, resume my interest in being out in nature instead of gallivanting around cities (being alone most of the time I thought it would be a change if I could be around people I have nothing to do with) buy less of those things I don’t need, concentrate more on experience instead of material possessions, be more adventurous and daring like I was before. 

Yesterday while on the road (to buy another succulent for my growing collection acquired out of nothing better to do in these cold, dark months and I thought I can’t garden outside why not do it inside) I decided to record my dreams and all those doomed scenarios that are always playing in my head 24/7. I read somewhere that the best way to forget things is to put them on paper. Perhaps if I write about them, maybe they will disappear and lessen the bursting pressure in my head.

Maybe I will make peace with my daughter. In second thought, better not. She crossed the line. There is no way back. Besides, she made it clear countless times (which I chose not to hear in the past among so many other things I ignored when it comes to her) that she doesn’t want me to be part of her (every day she said) life. Now, her wish is granted. 

I vowed to enjoy life this year. Try not to worry too much, take things as they come and chase every silver lining out there. In short: Carpe Diem.

To be continued… 

I’m hungry.


Daily Prompt: Conversation