Tag Archives: blogging

Mr. Sandman Is A Creepy Boogey Guy

I’m obsessed with sleep. You all know that by now.

Just recently my GP prescribed me Diazepam for muscles spasm and -you guessed it right- insomnia.

It doesn’t work.

What it did was gave me nightmares.

My nightmares like my dreams are in technicolor and complete. Beginning.  Middle.  End.

Like a movie.

And

They are either this or this.

But mostly it is just Sleep paralysis.

You know… the

…sounds such as humming, hissing, static, zapping and buzzing noises. Voices, whispers, and roars. Fear and panic. Sensations of being dragged out of bed or of flying, numbness, and feelings of electric tingles or vibrations running through the body. Hypnogogic hallucinations, such as a supernatural creature suffocating or terrifying me accompanied by a feeling of pressure on my chest and difficulty breathing. A menacing shadowy figure entering the room or lurking outside the window, while yours truly is paralyzed.

That, and a lot more.

Like I’m about to change into something else and I can feel my skin and bones splitting, forming and rearranging.

Tempting though to let it happen and see where it brings me, I have a strong inkling that if I let that happen, there is no way back, so, I have to wake up.

Mostly this happens when there is a full moon or when the moon is waning or waxing. Basically, all the time.

My sister called me a Lunatic.

Funny coming from here. But I took no offense. She called me also a paper doll.

Family.

They say

Either you hate them or love them.

I’m neutral.

I don’t feel anything.

What about you?

Do you have a similar experience?

Nightmares. Not family.

Well, do you?

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Crab Mentality

“When emerging from humble beginnings, those around you tend to underestimate your authenticity because they knew you before you were ‘somebody’.”

― Criss Jami, Killosophy

And often times, they will never forgive you for escaping, for managing to change your life in spite of… and most of all, for not bringing them with you. They will expect (demand) you to haul them out from the pit without their help because you made it. Therefore, if you can do it for yourself, you can do it for them. And if you refuse or fail for lack of cooperation, then you must be a very, very bad guy who doesn’t want anyone to succeed for the fear of losing your own sparkle. They will revel in your failure. They will hate you no matter what because you escaped.

They will spread lies about you to ruin your reputation and to establish themselves in the eyes of the public as victims. Lies are easier to believe than truths especially amongst those who are in the same boat. They seek solace and validation with one another. And for the others who are on the other side of the fence, underdogs tend to get the sympathy of the public, aren’t they? It is hard to pity someone who doesn’t want/crave pity and above all, fortunate.

People are blind.

How else they can overlook the fact that those who are condemning you are the ones who are guilty of the very crime they are accusing you of?

None is so blind than those who refuse to see.

And to watch while passing judgment is by far the safest option.

No matter what__ Life goes on.

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Color Blind

What if one day we wake up in a world without color?

Would it change our perception of everything?

Would we see people from all walks of life equals?

Could we resurrect respect and appreciate more?

Could it make us more tolerant friendly and forgiving?

Would our lives be more simple and joyful?

They say

When you photograph people in color, you photograph their clothes. But when you photograph people in Black and white, you photograph their souls.

Is it true?

I remember one rule of design.

If you want to know what’s wrong about a room (inside or outside) photograph them in black and white.

BUT

C. JoyBell C. said:

We are all equal in the fact that we are all different. We are all the same in the fact that we will never be the same. We are united by the reality that all colors and all cultures are distinct & individual. We are harmonious in the reality that we are all held to this earth by the same gravity. We don’t share blood, but we share the air that keeps us alive. I will not blind myself and say that my black brother is not different from me. I will not blind myself and say that my brown sister is not different from me. But my black brother is he as much as I am me. But my brown sister is she as much as I am me.

The downfall of the attempts of governments and leaders to unite mankind is found in this- in the wrong message that we should see everyone as the same. This is the root of the failure of harmony. Because the truth is, we should not all see everyone as the same! We are not the same! We are made in different colors and we have different cultures. We are all different! But the key to this door is to look at these differences, respect these differences, learn from and about these differences, and grow in and with these differences. We are all different. We are not the same. But that’s beautiful. And that’s okay. In the quest for unity and peace, we cannot blind ourselves and expect to be all the same. Because in this, we all have an underlying belief that everyone should be the same as us at some point. We are not on a journey to become the same or to be the same. But we are on a journey to see that in all of our differences, that is what makes us beautiful as a human race, and if we are ever to grow, we ought to learn and always learn some more.

It is when we think we can act like God, that all respect is lost, and I think this is the downfall of peace. We lie if we say we do not see color and culture and difference. We fool ourselves and cheat ourselves when we say that all of us are the same. We should not want to be the same as others and we should not want others to be the same as us. Rather, we ought to glory and shine in all of our differences, flaunting them fabulously for all to see! It is never a conformity that we need! We need not to conform! What we need is to burst out into all these beautiful colors!

What do you think?

Me personally, like Mark Rothko when it comes to humans

I’m not an abstractionist. I’m not interested in the relationship of color or form or anything else. I’m interested only in expressing basic human emotions: tragedy, ecstasy, doom, and so on.

Wherever of the spectrum you’re in, I hope you’ll do what’s right. Not only for yourself but for everyone concerned.

Till next time.

rp1e

 

Listening To My Body

I have yet to learn.

I must have told you already in one of my so many blog posts that I feel guilty when I am not doing something. A day without anything tangible created is a day wasted. That’s my motto. I didn’t know when did the habit begun and where I’ve learned it. As long as I can remember, it is part of my life. Nobody taught me to feel guilty. If someone did I don’t remember.

The result is: I never rest unless I fall down dead. So to speak. As long as I can put one foot in front of the other, I’m up and running.

Some people run on reserve. I run on empty.

I go on and on till I collapsed out of sheer exhaustion. Sick for me means I passed out or delirious and can’t get out of bed. 40°C fever means I am still gallivanting out there and throwing up is part of life. I will lie in bed yes if I’m so dizzy I see stars or can’t open my eyes because of blinding headache. But the moment I can stand, I’m in the garage, on the floor repotting plants that don’t need repotting especially in the middle of the winter when they lay dormant and agitating them means risking their fragile life but still doing it all the while saying to myself: they don’t need moving, they don’t need water, wait till spring when they have the best chance to grow and flourish.

I’m crazy I know.

Look at me.

I still have a fever and didn’t sleep. I was up the whole night with my head in the loo yet I am here sitting in front of the computer typing nonsensical arguments with myself.

Why I do it?

I don’t know.

Bad habits.

Habits I really (really) have to unlearn.

I have to start listening to my body. (My mother-in-law said)

I’m not getting any younger. I have to accept that the way of life I gotten used to doesn’t fit/applies anymore to my present self. I have (there are so many I and have in this post) to take my foot off the gas pedal and stop before I crash. (As if I’m not crashing daily lately) There is no shame in being lazy every once in a while. Stop, smell the flowers (not roses, I hate roses especially red, they are so common) learn to sit and enjoy the moment instead of running a race. Chew your food, savor the drink, close your eyes and take pleasure from doing nothing.

Listen to your body and relax.

Relax.

Relax.

Relax.

Yeah.

Shit.

How to do it?

Can someone, anyone tell me?

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A Letter to my Children: You do not come from a Broken Home.

My dear children: I know that the world may try to tell you otherwise, but I want you to know that you haven’t come from a broken home—because there isn’t anything damaged about my love for you.

Perhaps we are nontraditional, and possibly sometimes, it feels as if we are wayward, but there is nothing about our family that is broken.

I never intended to be a single parent. And though I had hopes of the fairytale happily-ever-after, I soon realized that I was just not meant to live in a perfect castle, high on a hill, while those below thought my life was something more “perfect” than it really was.

My dear children: I see now that this was the journey that we were all meant to walk.

I would never have wanted you to grow up thinking that love was a responsibility, instead of a gift. Because while I didn’t get it right the first time—you just might.

Perhaps if I can show you that sometimes love isn’t easy—and that the first step is always to learn who we are and how we love—then maybe you will know more than I did and make choices that are founded in greater awareness and courage.

I didn’t know how little I knew about life and myself when I began my journey of divorce, but time did a beautiful job of teaching me.

I know that sometimes it’s hard just having one parent at home because Momma can only do so much at once. There is only one lap to sit on and one pair of arms to hold you close. There is only one adult to fix things, cook and plan entertaining endeavors. Sometimes I drop the ball because I’ve learned that I just can’t do it all.

It’s just me—and while I know I am enough, just as I am doing the best I can, I know that you still want more.

When you tell me that you want a boy to live with us, as I am driving on the highway, you don’t see the tear slide down my cheek because I honestly want it just as much as you do. I can’t provide that as easily as I can other things—I can’t magically snap my fingers and make it happen.

But I do have faith that when it’s meant to be—and at the right time—I will find us a good man.

For now, all I can do is love you my deepest love, not to make up for the fact that there is only one parent to kiss you and tuck you in at night, but because you are worth this type of love.

To say that you are from a broken home implies that you would have been happier and healthy if I had stayed in a marriage that I’d outgrown.

The reality of two adults who aren’t truly in love with one another is not as good as being single and modeling how to exquisitely love myself.

I know that what I say doesn’t mean a damn thing if I am not willing to do the hard work to back it up with action.

What good would I have been to you if I had preached to you about finding love, loving yourself, following your heart and all of the magic that is worthwhile in this life if I wasn’t willing to follow my own advice?

The truth is, my loves, we need make mistakes to learn lessons.

If I hadn’t followed my heart and decided that I wanted my life to be the greatest example for how to live, then I also wouldn’t be the mother that you truly needed me to be.

How differently would you have grown up if I taught you to ignore your heart?

If I instead taught you the value in keeping your mouth closed just to keep the peace?

You wouldn’t be the type of women who will one day change this world.

My goal from the start has been to raise amazing young women. I never intended to keep watch over you, teaching you your ABCs while you learn how to best blend into society so that one day you might get a mortgage, and an IRA and find yourself settled down but empty.

You’ll grow up to be young women with soul.

Women who have vision and ambition who know they will have to work through blood and sweat to get the life they want and deserve, because nothing is ever given in this life for free.

Women who follow their hearts no matter where it leads and who possess the courage to help others to do the same.

You will be game-changers and status quo destroyers.

I first had to become this type of woman to raise you.

So, no my darlings you are not from a broken home.

You are from a home full of love and soul that will teach you how to navigate life and have one helluva time while doing it.

~Author: Kate Rose

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Quick Recap

Right after the New Year, I got the flu and took to bed.

I was so ill I could not stand up for five consecutive days, not even to pee. I forgot what time of the day it was or what day it was. I did not even mind if the doors were open or if the lights were on or not. I was shaking violently under two layers of duvet, sweating like a dog but freezing at the same time. I could not swallow food or tolerate even a sip of water. I was miserable.

On the fifth day, though shaky on my legs, I managed a trip to the doctor. The time I spent in the waiting room was torturous. Every sound magnified by tenfolds and the lights! The lights hurt my brain and the smell made me want to puke violently.

I got medicine for my sinusitis but the flu, you know the flu__ there is no cure for it.

I am still shaky but I can go downstairs now and gulp fruits, the only type of food I can tolerate so far. I managed to take a bath yesterday. It took me two hours and by the time I’m finished I was so exhausted, I had to sleep.

I didn’t leave the house for three weeks now and if I spend another day inside I will be crazy so, sick or not I’m going somewhere, anywhere.

I hope to be back on my feet before February 1st because I have to attend a corporate reception/party of some sort. I don’t want to but duty calls.

Wish me well.

Quick Recap:

Two more trips to the doctor and two different antibiotics later and I’m still ill.

The dizziness,  the nauseousness and vomiting, the never-ending coughs,  the excessive amount of phlegm and the headaches never leave me. I’m out of my wits! What to do, what to do!

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getting Through The Cracks

I grew up where, when a door closed, a window didn’t open. The only thing I had was cracks. I’d do everything to get through those cracks – scratch, claw, bite, push, bleed. ~Dwayne Johnson

Only I didn’t do all those things. I was not aware of the cracks. I thought they were doors. I didn’t want to escape, I was happy where I was. I guess if you don’t know any better… I knew there were people who were dissimilar from us but to me, they were just people. I never envy them nor aspire to be like them. Though they behaved differently towards me and my family, their attitude never made me feel inferior or less fortunate. It should have been. Perhaps if it was the case I would try harder getting through the cracks instead of___ what are the right words to describe what I was thinking/doing back then___ going through life one day at a time, more or less happy (in my own way) making the most of how little there was.

I don’t believe in destiny like I don’t believe in supernatural even though I had enough experience to write a dozen books about both. Things happen and that’s all there is to it. I got through the cracks somehow and stay out. No amount of coincidences, conspiracies and risky endeavors catapult me back where I came from. If I believe in luck I would say I am probably lucky.

Lucky that even though I follow my heart most of the time and pride is my greatest sin and I seem to be fond of illogical thinking, I’m still alive and in one piece and far from destitute. Hmmm… maybe the last one is debatable since I am not rich in my own right. Sometimes it is good to be a woman.

There are people who want nothing in their life than to get through the cracks but if offered a lifeline they use it to strangle themselves. Believe me, I know what I’m talking about. Watched it happening from the ringside often enough to know that those cases are classified as lost causes. No one can help them unless one is willing to commit suicide. Try to teach them to fish and they will hate you for not just giving them the bounty on a silver platter spoon and all. They want to eat fish but they don’t want to go fishing. They expect you to feed them through the cracks. Day by day, year by year. All their lives.

I guess it could have gone wrong for me also if I didn’t make certain choices. I tried it for size and those few times are the only decisions I ever regret making. No harm done. No course altering or life-changing events but still… those deliberate error of judgment is not to be repeated. Shameful they are.

Chances that could stir my life towards the one I had dreamed of never happened. Not for the lack of trying. It just didn’t happen. Everything I had envisioned for myself never materialized. It reminds me of the saying about God gives us not what we want but what we need. Who needs decades of nightmares I wonder.

If I could choose my own destiny I would choose to be a successful career woman ( what I mean by this is I work as a bestselling author/painter, Broadway/actress, an FBI agent ala Mulder and Scully, food/restaurant critic, travel photographer/journalist, a psychologist or even a pirate) unmarried, childless and enjoying one night stands in every city. Like a man.

Too much to ask?

Or

Maybe I just have to be content that I got through the cracks in one piece.

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Secrets

Anyone can possess, anyone can profess, but it is an altogether different thing to confess. ~ Shannon L. Alder

They say secrets are like cancer in the soul. They eat away what is good and leave only destruction behind. Do you believe it?

If you ask me I’d say it depends what kind of secret. Sometimes secrets are best forgotten, hidden even from oneself. Pretend it doesn’t exist and it becomes irrelevant. I wonder if all the things we omitted or never mentioned are classified as secrets. Is there a single person alive that is not keeping some things for himself? I don’t think so. All of us hides something from someone. Not always necessarily important or crucial or even damaging pieces of information but little irrelevant things like everyday thoughts, preference, fantasy, dreams, likes, and dislikes or even lust or crush towards your neighbors, co-workers, or random somebody on the streets.

We all have it. Secrets. Who didn’t fake an orgasm, or tell their wives they look good even it nowhere near the truth. Children keep things from their parents, friends, teachers. Employees from their bosses and vice versa. We hide facts for whatever reason. Some for the good of others, others for personal gain but one thing is for sure, we all withheld information from someone else at some point.

Agree?

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The World We Live In

“Believe nothing you hear and only one half that you see.” 
― Edgar Allan Poe

Yeah, don’t take anything at face value. In this life, you never know…

And according to my son, you can’t even trust your own mind-mine at least- because it could play tricks on you too. Not everything you see and hear is real. And lately, it could apply to almost anything. From what your children or partner is telling you to gossiping neighbors to false news, not to mention what your government is leading you to believe.

What is still real lately.

Heck, you can even trust pictures anymore. Phones can alter image beyond recognition. They are equipped nowadays with beautifying technologies your eyes automatically become bigger, your face longer and your skin fairer and smoother. They can erase the passing of years with one touch and gives you glow on par with that of innocent fully rested breastfeed satisfied babies.

Scary.

I wonder if Poe was aware that time that his thoughts would and could resonate down the centuries. Never the quote more applicable than the current state of the societies all over the world. Nothing is real anymore. Except the global warming and senseless violence in the name of this or that God for the sake of money and power. What else.

Where do we go from here?

Down the drain in record time. Because there is no way back. It’s too late. We can’t save the planet anymore. We can’t save us. Humanity has fallen victim to their own genius and an unquenchable thirst for progress, unquenchable appetite for destruction and unquenchable desire and hunger for more.

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insidious

Word I have learned today:

insidious

adjective
proceeding in a gradual, subtle way, but with very harmful effects.
synonym:

stealthysubtlesurreptitioussneakingcunningcraftyMachiavellianartful, guileful, sly wilytrickyslickdeceitfuldeceptivedishonestunderhandbackhandedindirect 

informal: sneak

My ex-husband said to me that I pretend to be intelligent but the truth is I’m stupid really. I think what he meant was I lack the qualities that are mentioned above. Virtues that in my experience most women I know possessed and I seem to be lacking. I never learned to use my gender as a weapon of advantage, like I never learned to sway my hips while walking or say things but mean another. In my world, I say what I mean and mean what I say and I learned to walk with a purpose: getting where I want to be as fast as possible and leave when it is not necessary anymore to stay. I am stupid indeed.

I have nothing to offer to a man.

My ex said that too. According to him I just lay there like a corpse. I told him it takes a real man to make me moan in bed. He didn’t like that. I wonder why.

The truth is I never thought of offering someone anything in any circumstances. Another thing I never learned: to negotiate and barter. Take me as I am or walk away. No hard feelings.

Reminds me of what Rose -an old friend- told me when we were young – not to eat directly from the pot when there is a possibility that someone, especially a (potential) suitor might see me. The person could lose interest when he catches me doing unladylike things. I told her why hide when sooner or later he will learn to know the real me and preferably sooner than later so he could not blame me of pretending and tell me afterward that if he only knew he would not get into this and that. I rather that he will know how I really am in advance so he has time to make up his mind if he is going to venture further with me or run away. Same reason why I don’t string suitors. If I like you I tell you right away so we can spend time doing wonderful things together instead of beating around the bushes pretending, wasting precious time which otherwise we can use to get to know each other better. Likewise when I don’t fancy the person, I will tell him right away too so he could devote his precious time chasing other preys instead of wasting it on me. Fair is fair, right?

Lately, looking back, I sometimes believe that maybe I am indeed stupid, not using my feminity at its best potentials when I could but even if, I don’t know where to begin. I don’t know how to flirt or seduce someone. I don’t know how to twist the truth to my own advantage and I don’t know how to lie for personal gain. I cannot shut up when I supposed to shut up (like don’t criticize your mother-in-law in the front of your husband and don’t antagonize your husband by pointing out his mistakes and don’t voice out other people’s thoughts which otherwise they rather keep for themselves for the fear of rocking the boat etc. etc.) I don’t know how to caress someone’s ego to be liked and be sweet and amenable to please and I don’t know how to be who I am not for popularity. If I don’t know all these, how can I be smart?

Smart people, women, in particular, my ex-boss said know their way in the world. He said this after I refused to attend his 25th wedding anniversary because I didn’t want to wear a long gown. After I refused to go to the sauna with him. After a female colleague cooked him dinner and after I didn’t get into his proposition of being employed by him to take care of his invalid wife on paper but in reality living with them and taking care of him. He fired me but tried to hire me again three weeks later. Funny guy.

I’ve met quite a few who are insidious. I wonder how they can look at themselves in the mirror and believe they are the paradigm of virtues. I admire people who are overly self-confident when clearly there is no reason to be. Like stating on their profiles that they are very attractive while their pictures say otherwise. I know what false modesty means and it is equally unflattering. They say the best part of being beautiful is when one is not aware one got it. That’s when the allure becomes powerful and at its strongest.

Do you believe it?

If you’ve got it, flaunt it they say. It’s a good subject for a debate, but not today. All I know is it is endearing to watch someone who is not aware she or he has a devastating impact on people. Kind of innocent. Kind of sweet. Kind of everything I am not. False modesty aside.

But I’m getting sidetracked again. See what a single word could do to the mind of a person?

I better stop I think.

See you next time.

Mirror_____by_GeSSa

The Secret Life of Prince Charming

“I used to think that finding the right one was about the man having a list of certain qualities. If he has them, we’d be compatible and happy. Sort of a checkmark system that was a complete failure. But I found out that a healthy relationship isn’t so much about sense of humor or intelligence or attractive. It’s about avoiding partners with harmful traits and personality types. And then it’s about being with a good person. A good person on his own, and a good person with you. Where the space between you feels uncomplicated and happy. A good relationship is where things just work. They work because, whatever the list of qualities, whatever the reason, you happen to be really, really good together.” 

― Deb Caletti

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In The Sea

“Ideas are like fish. If you want to catch little fish, you can stay in the shallow water. But if you want to catch the big fish, you’ve got to go deeper. Down deep, the fish are more powerful and more pure. They’re huge and abstract. And they’re very beautiful.”

― David Lynch

Does the above quote applicable also when looking/hunting/choosing for a potential partner? I heard it before, so many fish in the ocean and to quote a fifteen-year-old boy who thought he knew better he said: She’s not the only pussy walking around. He was, by the way, referring to me, angry because his own brother and first cousin were on the clinch for my attention. But if I read him correctly, he got an adolescent crush on me and probably angry at himself. Those were the days.

Down deep, the fish are more powerful and more pure. Oh, I thought the higher you go up on the social ladder the poorer it gets when it comes to attitude and manners. But then again, Lynch was talking about ideas, not people.

But ideas come from people, and I believe that in order to have depth on anything, the source got to have layers, multiple layers. And layers come from life experience, years of experience. The harder the life you lead, the more colorful and complex the layers become. No wonder most if not all geniuses were tortured souls. All great art comes from pain they say, and history is there to prove it, There is no need to mention names, we all know who they are. The Myth of the Tortured Artist, remember? They say it’s not a myth. Art is a reflection of humanity, and humanity’s greatest virtue is its ability to overcome adversity. Suffering gives insight they claim. What tortured them is what made them great. I can only agree. I write better when I am unhappy and can’t sleep.

Experience and the ability to feel and to know where those feelings are coming from give art authenticity in my opinion. It’s your soul that is out there, no one had been through what you have been through, your stories are solely your own, unique in every way. Your craft is an expression of your personal journey and the bumpier the road, the greater is the experience the deeper is the source of inspiration.

I have lived a thousand lives. No exaggeration. I could write about a million things others could only imagine about. My history and my experience lend truth to my voice as opposed to someone who is writing fictional situations. They say in every book someone writes, there is always a piece of autobiography in it and I believe that. We draw characters and places from our own personal experience. It doesn’t matter if we are writing fiction or not, we based personages and situations on people we know and places we’ve been. There is always a piece of truth in every lie they say. I believe that too. Where else we could get our inspiration but from life itself, right?

With a little bit of imagination or lots of it, we can make ordinary extraordinary and simple to wonderful. All we need is to catch some big fish, and in order to do that; we have to explore bigger and deeper seas and risk drowning. Sink or swim people.

Till next time.

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365 Blank Pages

Brad Paisley said:

Tomorrow is the first blank page of a 365-page book. Write a good one.

Fair enough.

But how to do it?

One subject they never teach in any school is how to cope with life.

They never teach us how to be a wife, a mother or how to keep a relationship alive and functioning properly and how to get over heartaches and traumatic experience. They never tell us what to do when everything is falling apart and you have nowhere to go and no one to turn to. In short, for all those mostly unnecessary things they instilled in our heads, they never prepare us for real life and what lies ahead when we’re lucky enough to survive childhood with or without scratches.

In school, they never teach us even the basic on how to deal with obstacles and hurdles of growing up and being an adult.  Worse still, there is no school on this planet one could apply to if one wishes to be educated about life. We have to learn it on our own stumbling and falling.

Good for building a character you might say. That which does not kill us makes us stronger. Wrong! Friedrich Nietzsche. What doesn’t kill us makes us crazy or at the very least, paranoid if not bitter, vindictive even. Once we are burned, we show the scars one way or the other. It will manifest in whatever aspect of character we are lacking strength and influence our choices and decision makings in the future. Those who made the same mistakes over and over again are terrified of leaving familiar water. The devil you know is better than the devil you don’t, right?

Of course, in every rule… you know the drill.

Observe and learn. The best way to learn is from the pros. Easier said than done. Watching people doesn’t always give us a heads up. We tend to think it will not happen to us till it happens. Same as getting old. The youth tend to shrugs off the myths about aging even though the proofs are staring them right on their faces, till it is their turn then suddenly myths become facts and by then it’s too late. You know what I’m talking about… We all been there, being young and thought we are immortal, smarter than our predecessors and a lot, a lot luckier forgetting we are all born terminal and living on borrowed time.

Ah, if we knew then what we know now.

If only they teach us survival skills in school. If only they prepare us for what is going to happen next. If only…

And the way I see it those modern conveniences and technologies don’t help. Today’s generation is accustomed to having what they want with one click and living in virtual realities. How can you expect them to survive in the real world?

Or maybe I’m just getting old and getting nostalgic for yesteryears when people still know how to cook a meal from scratch instead of letting it deliver on their doorstep. When people could function without the aid of a computer and can write a proper letter and send real Christmas cards instead of electronic ones.

Those were the days.

Let’s begin the 365 days by spending time with our loved ones minus the gadgets. Could we still do that?

I wonder if our loved ones want to spend time with us without the buffer of iphones, ipads, and what have you. Do we still have something meaningful to say to each other to begin with?

Somehow I doubt it.

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