Hello, Internet! Welcome to another post where I will basically just waste some precious minutes of your life. Well, September has not been exactly great, but that only means I have better days ahead, doesn’t it? 🙂
Last month has been extra challenging for me when it comes to dealing with other people. I have had a lot of heated conversations at work, bleep-ful rants and debates on social media, and basically just shitty misunderstandings here and there.
Unfortunately, it seems that while I have been losing a week’s worth of sleep because I am an anxious piece of mess, others seem to be just brushing off these exchanges of not-so-kind thoughts. So why should I give a fuck, too, right? (I decided to do a don’t-give-a-fuck 30-day challenge for October.)
I am back! (Hi, “back”!)
Okay, I did not mean to annoy you at the very start of this post. 🙂 Anyway, I have just finished moving things around here in my blog, so some of you may notice that I have changed my theme and created a portfolio for my poems.
Tbh, I was thinking of creating a new blog (for the nth time) but thought I’m too old now to just go around starting but not finishing what I started (wow, so much hugot there).
Now that we’re talking about age and life, I am glad to share with you, my dear reader, that I have decided to start a 30-day challenge kind of habit. You know the drill, as in I have to:
- decide to do something daily for 30 days,
- commit to a minimum amount of time I will be spending on said activity each day, and
- basically tell you at the end of the 30 days that I accomplished nothing.
Here’s to hoping I will not have to do the third item on the list above.
“We are not those characters we want to be. We are the characters we are.” – Tom Wolfe, “Genius”
I never felt comfortable, or even the slightest bit excited, with autobiographies and non-fiction books or movies. The thought that what was happening on the movie, or what was being described in a book, all happened in real life always makes me feel uncomfortable. Of the very few occasions I have witnessed such literature, there’s this question that lingers behind my mind: why is my life not as vibrant? And then it gives birth to a couple more questions that, in general, make me feel as if I am but an empty shell walking around every corner, waiting for something that will fill the black hole inside.
It’s like being alive is like having this unending responsibility to prove you’re worth the air you breathe and the pavement you’re standing on. You have to be interesting. You have to be weird in a unique and lovable way, lest you want to be the unnamed passer-by.
Am I living a life enough to take up pixels on a computer screen or ink on a paper? Will someone even care to know what I was thinking one hot evening under the street lamps and sparkling sky?
And then I realised one thing: the greatest biographies have been written to look back on someone’s life. They’re done a long time past when they happened. It is not so much as to tell the world how a genius spends his morning. It is more of the idea that you’ve done all these things that didn’t seem to make sense – but now they do. They are meant for looking back and reflecting on how far you’ve come – of how brave you’ve been for going through all those shitstorms and fucked up days. It’s about realising that one point lead you to another until the exact spot where you are right now.
We’ve all been writing our autobiographies all this time. Which path are you heading: left or right?
People often see me as someone who has her shit together. They think of me as someone who’s “up and coming”. Someone really authoritative calls me his “golden girl”.
But what does that even mean? What does it mean to be someone that everyone considers to be.. “doing really okay”?
Would you call it “success” if it’s not something you were aiming for in the first place?
Okay, yes, I know. I do not even know what I want to do with my life, yet here I am: complaining again. I am serious about this. I can do things, do them really well, but I cannot do things. All I probably know is how to shadow others, and raise the bar higher – I cannot set my own bar. I can only do things that others are already doing.
What am I gonna do? I am 23 and I do not have a single idea what to do with my life. I do not know if this is pre-quarter life crisis kicking in, but I am dead serious right now. How do I figure my life out?
Maybe I should do some.. summer cleaning? You’ll hear from me again soon.
Surprisingly, this has been a good week for me.
Even though last weekend was a long one, I did not really get to fully enjoy it because I had to fucking work on a fucking long weekend. Oh, I also attended a friend’s wedding on top of that, which was tiring because it was held in a province. The internet connection at the hotel that I stayed in was fcking slow, and.. well, I am quite an impatient person. Since my week did not start well, I thought I’d be thrown from the frying pan onto the fire before the week actually ends.
But the universe decided to be kind to me! My former manager joined my current team, so I was really happy that some of the heat will be taken off my hands. I have been running around like crazy the past few months because I have been taking care of my team, so I am really glad that I’d get someone more senior than me who will be able to watch out for the team! ^_^
And the best thing about this week is.. I have finished watching “Weightlifting Fairy Kim Bok Joo”! It’s such a good k-novela! The actors/actresses aren’t super good-looking, but their characters are really charming! :”> For now, byeee.
As it seems, I am unconsciously a fan of deadlines.
It’s ironic, I know. I procrastinate a lot, rant about not having enough time to do everything all the time, barely have time to relax, and complains endlessly about stress as if it’s always the first time. If anything, I should be the last person saying something positive about due dates.
But when I said that I kind of like deadlines, I was actually thinking about that feeling that something will stop happening. It feels good to know that certain things like stress, anxiety, and panic, will cease to exist after some time – that they only have a limited period and that I will get a break from them, even though short. It’s good to realise that the world does not stop for me, and that everyone has a lot going on that they would not really stop what they’re doing just to look down on me.
Of course, good things also have deadlines. But at least you’ll know that they are just around the corner, waiting for the cycle to complete.
Which got me thinking on the side.. why do we always hope that the last times will last?
Last bit of hope that someone’s coming back.
It’s quite ironic, you know? Hoping that the last thing will last forever. Or is it our way of reminding ourselves that the last times will always be a part of who we are? That the last times will stick around for a much longer period, even though they’re already due.
This is the last time that I am going to think about.. you.
Newsflash: I rode a bus to get home today.
It’s a big deal because I. Hate. Bus. Rides. Especially. Those. Where. I. Am. Not. Seated.
I was feeling pretty good when I clocked out of the office, even though quite late already, today because I had finished some tasks that were left pending over the Easter break. However, things turned around real quick when I realised that the MRT station has no NB operations. Here’s a summary of what went on in my head when I realised the conundrum I am in:
Me: Should I just walk home??
Me: DO I TAKE A BUS OR A CAB
Me: Holy cheese wtfffffuuuu
Also me: *pokerface*
I was literally freaking out already because:
1. I don’t know what bus route I should take! “Cubao Ibabaw”, “Cubao Fast Lane” does not ring any bells to me!
2. Why the fck do bus drivers decide to just freaking accelerate at a rate faster than the speed of light just when the passengers have just set foot on the bus and haven’t even found a seat yet?? Like, is there some inside joke here?! Do I look like Spiderman to you? Do you expect me to swing my way towards the back of the bus?? Wtf???????
3. I have heard lots of stories where unsuspecting and vulnerable victims have been held up or pickpocketed during bus rides. Let’s just say that even though I am always that friend who reminds the gang to watch out for their belongings, I never suspect other people to just do that to me. Or maybe I just physically look vulnerable sometimes. Or maybe I just want someone to try to pickpocket me so I can use my jiu-jitsu training. LOL, can be all.
4. I get super stressed out when people walk towards the door because wtf how do you even do that? I am already sweating out my life while atanding on the aisle. Like, fuck, you da MVPs!
However, I had this weird thought that said there might be a reason why I was left with no option but to ride a bus. Maybe I just bumped onto my soulmate? LOLJK.But srsly, that thought occurred to me – just like in the movies when the protagonist male and female get on the same bus and have not just realised it yet. Hihi.
But, yea, oh well. Just making some lemonades out of the lemons I got today.