The empty space in the beginning, looks as beautiful as after you have written something on it.  Each and every day, I realize how thick the walls you built around the room I have given you.  I have managed to tear down the layers of wallpaper that seemed to take forever to rip out.  And then the wall hit me of how thick they are.  It seems like if I’d let somebody in that room, I wouldn’t be able to hear them anyway.  Because right before you left the room, you thickened it so much.  But, I accept the challenge of tearing it down,  I’ll get there eventually, maybe not now, but I know I’ll get there.

As I was in the room, I heard your voice again.  I heard that laugh when you find something so funny.  I know I sometimes gave you a hard time and it wasn’t because of you, it was me.  There are battles only one person besides me know about.  I was wondering because, I was listening to Perfect by Ed Sheeran, on that line where it said,  I see my future in your eyes, I no longer saw yours.

The future excites me though.  Lately, my anxiety have been so unkind.  I’ll figure it out.  In the fall, when the leaves are magnificent, a new challenge will arise.  But let’s put it off for tomorrow.  Let’s talk about today.  One day at a time.  There are a lot of things I have realized after I’ve stayed in that room for some time.  You wore my heart down.  Sucked all of the blood to the very last drop.  But well, I’m slowly getting there, slowly standing back to where I was.

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What’s new

Everything is different but it’s all the same.  Looking back, it’s has been a long way, but it’s so slow isn’t it?  I’m the same girl who decided not get hitched when I was 13.  I still listen to rap, rock and old songs.  I still write, whenever and wherever.  Day dreaming is still my favourite pastime.  I still use music as my timer, I got that from a camp I went to back then and I never stopped doing that ever since.  I’m joyful and peaceful too.  I still don’t find the need to explain myself to people.

I still do everything I used to.  I belt out some notes when I’m alone driving.  I don’t anything pink.  Black is my favourite colour.  I have my morning rituals, which is get up, have breakfast before my day begins.  Then at night I wash my face, brush my teeth and day-dream my way through.  There are still things that I keep doing.  When I was my hands I still check how dirty it is.  There are still things that I keep doing.  When I was my hands I still check how dirty it is.

I have noticed, that my life might have big changes but I haven’t lost who I am.  New things, I have added though, I only drink warm coffee once in the morning, then if it’s after 11:00 AM I want my coffee cold.  Regardless of the weather, may it be sunny or snowing.  I don’t take so long when I shower.

I just thought maybe my inside world is too colourful of a universe for me to feel the need to have my outside life as mundane as possible.  As mediocre as the life I have lived, in my own little world I live a grand life.  So who’s to say about who is living a happy life and who isn’t?

Stranger Tides

When an artist paints the whole world shuts down, no background noise, no nothing, just the artist and its canvas.  When a singer hums, it’s much more raw than when she’s in front of a crowd.  The tune is nude, with the singer’s heart beat as the instrument that leads it.  When a poet writes, the world doesn’t shut down, but it comes alive.  All the objects around him move with every stroke of his pen.  When a rock star is alone, with his guitar, even indoors he feels the breeze with every string he strums.

When an explorer discovers new land, no feast can ever express the greatness he feels about himself.  When a general wins a war, not even the grandest parade can beat the feeling of home.  That is why soldiers search for a wife, a lover, a family, something to look forward to when they come home.  Something or someone to come home to.

But for some, solitude is what they seek.  And the world does not understand, so it tends to destroy the spirit of such a warrior.  Someone different, is just abnormal and yet, when we look around nobody really is alike in the world.  The world would never permit happiness upon those who go against the tide, reminders are plastered all over the walls, magazines and even on the lips of those for the world.

There is no telling when it all ends, but I for one would want to come home and tell a great story of my life, rather than, tell a story that is somewhat similar to everyone elses.

In My Book

I have written this.  I have set the terms and the characters in it, the setting is perfect, well to me at least.  I walking towards this and along the way, there are characters coming and going.  Only few stay but the important ones.

I have written this, I didn’t include you, sorry.  I remember one time, you wanted to be written on this but I had to figure if you’re worth the ink.  Through that, I have torn my walls down, so I could investigate only not to find you there.  Weird, I know but I’m thankful.  That part of the book made me realize that I could let the walls stay down, but I could build a minefield.  So that’s how it is now, people can walk freely, but I decide if I will let them take another step.  One, to save them from getting blasted, or let them take it.  I have always said, I may not be always nice, I may not be or will ever be a ray of sunshine but I was never cruel, I’m always fair.  I would always tell you the truth, that I guarantee.

I have written this, the walls are never going back up but the bombs stay.  I’m no longer armed, for I have realized it is cowardly.  But for anybody who dares to go in, I will allow them armed with the best that they have.  I will carry with me my tongue and give me time for a conversation, that’s all.  Sometimes, I would need a pen, not to stick it in your jugs but to write with.  I heard it’s be mightier than the sword.

I have written this, not the whole book.  I let the chapters work their way to what I’ve written.  If you open the book, it is filled on the first 3 soon to be 4 chapters, blank in the middle, but the end is written.  Not that I predict that’s exactly what’s going to happen, I’m no psychic.  But that’s the end game.  That’s what I’m working for.  That’s where I’m headed.

I have written this, but I wrote it backwards.  I started from the back before my pen even touched the front.  It’s nothing glamorous, it’s nothing grand, it’s not about what I have but what I’m in.  If I’ll paint it, it wouldn’t be appealing, that I know of.  But of course to me it’s my Mona Lisa, my Sistine Chapel.  I’m the artist and all the tourists that sought for them.  Elements of 2 and with me makes us 5.  All in black and white.

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Your end game keeps you motivated on the daily.  During the bad days, your end game keeps you from breaking down, on the good times, it’s what makes it better.  While people are looking for people to stay and make their lives better, a lot of us are gearing towards that happy place we wanted.  One Sunday afternoon that you don’t dread for Monday to come, in a space where you’re safe and joyful.  Having coffee and tell yourself, and everything else from here is just gravy.

One day that you actually want to sleep because you’re looking forward to tomorrow.  One day when you don’t hang on to, as what you used to call them, those little moments of bliss, in the morning when you don’t realize who you are, what you’re supposed to do or what life you have, milliseconds after you wake up.  One day when everything you want is happening so the down times ain’t so bad because the good times outweigh them.  If that makes sense.

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What’s stopping you from jumping off that platform?  What if you will just randomly cross the highway? What if it’s never going to get better?  What if it gets worse?  What if you’ve not done enough in your life?  What if you’ll always be inadequate?  What if no one will ever love you?  What if you’ll always feel this lonely?  What if you’ve wasted your time?  What if you’ll never be successful?  What if you’ll never get that place you’ve always wanted?  What if you’ll never get that dream life?  What if you’ll never get to your happy place?  What if you’re just stuck?  What if you’ll never wake up?  Will things be better?

It is almost time for me to level up and yes each and every day the challenge gets harder.  I suppose it is preparing me for the next level.  Should I be glad that it actually gets harder?  Would that mean that I actually am worthy of taking on whatever is on the next level?  That I actually am jumping levels instead of being stuck at level 20?

Sometimes you get tired and feel defeated without even going to battle.  Your mind exhausts you and you want the world to stop so badly but you can’t.  You know you should be grateful to open those eyes, but then there are days that you’d wish you could give it to someone else.  You wonder what is keeping you here.

For me, I don’t wish for a long life, I don’t find it necessary to get old.  I have been preparing and ready to go home, since I could remember.  There’s a song by Linkin Park, “Heavy”.  It goes, why is every thing so heavy. It’s one thing to understand what it means, it’s another to really fathom the meaning of the line.

Many times have I wanted to give up, but I always find myself in the battlefield the next day anyway.  I guess it’s the fighter in me that wakes me up in the morning, even if I don’t really want to get up.

I have always anchored on something that I read online, you’re still here not because of you but because someone needs you to be.  That maybe I may have some importance in this world.  Sometimes, they just don’t work anymore.  Sometimes you justo don’t want to be wherever you are.

Then you tell yourself, what if it gets better?  What if it won’t get worse?  What if you’ve done enough in your life?  What if you’ll be enough?  What if someone does love you?  What if you’ll not feel lonely anymore?  What if you’ve made progress over time?  What if you’ll be successful?  What if you’ll get that place you’ve always wanted?  What if you’ll get that dream life?  What if you’ll get to your happy place?  What if you’ll get out of this?  What if you’ll still wake up, and things get better?

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Maybe No

I was walking, really more like wandering.  I was walking toward a familiar place, but I wasn’t there.  As I got to the door, that music, those notes ringing to my ear, a song so familiar.  It was waiting for me, so I opened the door and there I was all in white.  Walking down all confused, a room full of people but I couldn’t seem to find the people who mean the world to me except for one.  When I got to the middle of the room I looked down, and saw a bunch of flowers, realized they were Asters, all along I have been thinking if this was it, why would it be this simple?  As I reached the end, there you were standing, I barely recognize this little world.  I couldn’t even smile, I was wondering so much where the people were.  All of a sudden, I then heard those words, “I pronounce you man and wife”.  Still with no smile but just a confused facial expression, I looked at everyone.  I saw people I know from the past, they all wished me well.  I was still so confused even holding your hand didn’t feel like it used to.  One of the people said, why aren’t you smiling?  Then I looked at you, you looked so happy and excited meanwhile you were holding the hand of a confused bride.


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Going Nowhere

Why was it ever necessary for anybody to conform with society’s norms?  Sometimes it makes people feel inadequate, or at times unfit to be in this world.  Who ever decided on these norms for one to be considered normal?  It’s always on society’s standards, the society who has never accounted for its destruction.  Beautiful souls are punished and humiliated meanwhile, vanity is celebrated and embraced.  What a waste.

Even brave soldiers have their breaking point.  Even generals take their armors and medals off at night, and be mere mortals.  Doctors who are heroes to the people that they saved, come home feeling unwanted because of that one patient they couldn’t help.  Kings go to bed at night completely vulnerable.

But doesn’t it feel so wonderful, that moment in the morning, before you open your eyes, those very few seconds you don’t know who you are or what you’re supposed to do?  A little bit of happiness.  Happiness, isn’t everybody giving this word too much credit?  Everyone is trying to be just that, and stay just that, but what is it really?

People who have standards are being called proud, selfish, etc.  People who have low-no standards are being called sensitive, so in tuned with their emotions.  I know that generalization is not fair, because a lot of truly sensitive people have standards too and vise versa.  But sometimes, it’s the people who tag themselves with such adjectives to cover up flaws are the problem.


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Simone’s Song

I’m listening to a song on loop right now, and I have always loved where this song takes me.  I remember the first time I heard it and my life was nowhere near together but it was this song that seem to have lifted the mood.  Simply because the lyrics pulled the right strings in my heart.  I don’t speak French but surprisingly, that particular line, did a number on me.

Fie-toi a l’amour c’est tout, means trust in love that’s all. 

Anybody who knows me, or ever knew me, knows I have trust issues.  I just can’t be, or do something without a string of questions, but then some things don’t come with answers.  Simply because you need to experience them, not answer them.  No logic whatsoever, no laws of gravity pulling it, nothing.  Things that are not black and white.

I have always believed in time travel.  Every time you open a book, it’s a ticket to where the story is.  Every time you play a song, it takes you to the last place you’ve heard it.  Nostalgia is a real thing, and has always been.

You might have noticed my thoughts are kind of scrambled, well, it’s because my mind right now is.  So whenever I’m overwhelmed, I listen to this particular song on loop, just because.  Another line that completes the scenario and brings it home:

It isn’t bad if you believe

Now that I don’t have to translate. I haven’t written in a while but when I’m stressed out this is my go to stress-reliever.  I have all kinds of songs depending how my day went.  Music has always been my rescuer, never fails, too.  When you lose and feel defeated, music is that hug you need to throw yourself to.  When you feel tired, music cradles you.

When I write, I used to have this concrete idea, of how it’ll go, procrastinate until I decide that I should write it.  As I get older, I don’t have the same process, or sometimes none at all.  Maybe it’s just tiring.

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Something Happened

2018 has been so disrespectful, in a funny way of course.  I think this year is on a time crunch, it’s throwing away everything it can in my way and it’s just the beginning of the year. I don’t think it grasps the meaning of the word start.  It just went of like crazy. Now, with everything that has happened, it made me think about life.  How even at this day and age where people have done such an amazing job at screwing up all of God’s creation, life still gets to you.  So I have always been a plan-organize-and-execute-kind of person. I don’t go in to things I haven’t planned and prepared for yet.  My goals, whether long or short-term, I have it all in my head on how to get to it.  But then, it’s just so mundane.

2018 being in such a hurry to throw God knows what in my way, paved a new path. Showed me a new door, with an ad saying why not try this?  So then I decided, meh, why not.  But it just occurred to me that when I heard that click in the knob, something happened.