When it All Falls Down

I woke up. I woke up from a dream I had, for a while it seemed as though it was my reality.  But no, it was all a dream. Now I’m awake, back to the reality I left when I closed my eyes. All of a sudden I hear horns, I hear cars and my tires are slipping on the road. Oh it’s winter. But it was only fall when I went into my slumber. Strange. I’m back to where I was last winter but a lot has happened. Everything went back in place.

But it was like seeing a ghost, as time passes, you start to wonder if it even happen. Like walking in to a really old haunted house, you see it empty because nobody lives there anymore, but you know something went down in this place. Deserted, abandoned, but still standing. As you walk on each and every step you find a piece so familiar it gives you flashbacks of what was. Then you start to ask yourself if you’re one of those loony mediums. Things keep rushing back in your mind, like silent movies starring you. Only then you realize you’ve been here and yet it makes you think, how could you have forgotten a lot about this, you stayed here, weren’t you happy here? Your mind flooded with questions. You picked up your pace trying to remember what happened here, what have you done or what haven’t you? Then you saw a room, in the room there’s a shelf, full of boxes. You open one box and there were loose leaves of paper that had something on it. You start reading, they were memories but incomplete. They seemed like clips of episodes because you can’t remember. One page leads to another and until you realize you needed to find this other room, but you glanced at the shelf, there’s one more box. But if you open that now, you can no longer go to the other room. So as you have read everything else, that was all you had. But you knew you were going to battle. You rested on the thought that this wasn’t the first you have fought, you are a general. So you armoured-up, equipped yourself with all the weapons you thought you needed. Have all the tactics you’re going to need for the battle.

All geared up, you go in. But when you looked around, it was not the battlefield you imagined. You then looked for the booby traps. Then you saw a soldier sitting on a chair, everything seemed so familiar. He is armoured up too but he was just sitting. As time went by, there were times he took his helmet off but would just put it back on, and you did the same. Little by little you put down your weapons until all the visible weapons are down.  He got out of the room, you followed him, everywhere he went, you followed because you were not giving up.  Sometimes you would lose sight of him but in the end track him down.  Sometime he throws some things you don’t really know what it’s about for you don’t remember everything. Tried and tested, you’re exhausted.  Sometimes you bust in a room with tears falling down nonstop but you understand this, tasks need to be done.  That was part of it.

One night, you felt comfortable enough to rest and sleep. Then you woke up the next morning in the other room with the shelf, with that last box beside you already open. You told yourself I’ll deal with that later but when you got up, you didn’t realize there was already one on your lap and was able to read some of it anyway. That’s when it all fell down, but you can’t just throw in the towel, that’s not you. You will see this battle through no matter what. You’re not a quitter, so you just had to suck it up. The box contained all of the reasons why you left this house for a very long time and burried its existence as deep as you can. But it made you ponder on things, that you started this so this shall be dealt with now.

So you went back to the other room. The soldier was still there, his helmet already off, the room seemed different, it made you question if it had always looked like that you just didn’t realize it. But no, you were sure. You decided to take this battle head on, and stripped yourself of all the weapons you had left, oh but a dagger.

Time went on, slowly you noticed changes from the house.  You see pilars and rooms torn down but the house was still standing.  Then you finally took out the dagger, put it down and said, “if revenge is what you’re after now is the perfect time to strike.” So then you wait after your words seem to echo across the entire house. The soldier comes out. All of a sudden, you hear the clock ticking, a clock you don’t even remember working. As you got distracted the soldier tried his strike, hit your arm. Just a dash but it bled. He was surprised, you didn’t run for cover. You just stood there pulled out a handkerchief and bandaged it up. Still standing you hear the clock again, ticking faster. You tried to walk up to the soldier and asked for forgiveness. Another hit, same spot, the wound got a little deeper but you wanted to see this battle through. All you can do is use your words for you have put all your weapons down. You don’t care if you’re bleeding because you got this. But then on that final blow, it got to you, the soldier stood up and walked out.

With the soldier gone, you hear something fall from a distance but it seemed loud because it echoed all around the house then you realize you’re all alone. But you have always loved solitude you love the solace it brings you. So with every strength you have left, you walked out of that house and finally slammed that door shut.  Just as you did that the house crumbled and was demolished right before your eyes.

You make your way back home and nurse yourself back to health. But with little strength you have left you went to the post office to reroute your mail for the mean time. Then you go back home and you make a little to-do list of milestones as you get back up. And surprisingly, you have been crushing it day after day. On the fourth day you were already laughing your ass off. Then on the fourteenth day, you went back to the post office and undo the re-routing of your mail. You left the post office so proud of yourself. Little did you know that night you would have the courage to stand outside the soldier’s house. And you were okay, though nothing much has changed. But you weren’t on the part yet that you could tell your 16-year-old self to let the soldier stay. Then the days that felt like weeks passed by and suddenly, as you were washing your face you saw that 16-year-old. She looks excited, and then you tell her, in an hour kid will be a start of a road you’ll have to endure for a very long time, I’m not going to sugarcoat it, it’s a dirt road and sometimes there’s not even a path, but along the way you will learn a lot, from life and about yourself. You got this, the lessons you get out of this will be rewarding I tell you. You will come out a stronger warrior than you already are. Then, you have smiled your proudest until today. You never imagined you were stronger than you thought you were. Each and every day you knock a milestone or out of your list.

Now you get up, out of bed, still with bandages but the wounds are healing faster. You look around, you see someone who told you she loves you all the time but seemed indifferent once the battle was over. You scuffed it off, people are like that sometimes. You walk around some more and you see two people one with tears in her eyes. The teary-eyed one said, “we’re okay, we’re fine, you’re gonna be fine.” You nod and say, “I am.” The other one said, “let’s just focus on the future now.” You smile and say, “I will”.

You get back to your walk and saw another person, she said, “it’s okay I’m here whenever you need me. Even if it’s 3am just call.” You learn about people, the ones who stay with you and the ones who just said they will. Let it go and cherish the ones who stayed. Then you went back to your room. An old man was there that’s when you broke to tears.  Falling on your cheeks one after the other, you grinned and manage to say, “this is why I can never say no in going to battles for You. You’ve given me a lot to come home to, after every battle I always nurse myself back to a hundred percent no matter how much I was beaten up, because not once have You ever left me. I may not be one of your best soldiers but I am always Yours.” He just nodded in agreement.

One morning you wake up, and everything’s back to where it was, the wounds are all closed up, no more bruises. It made you think about the whole thing. Looked back on every single lesson you can get out of it.

Another day, and you get up, take a shower, cook breakfast, had your favourite part of the day – coffee time. You got dressed, got all-dolled up, and you smile looking at yourself again. Then you notice something new. There was a door that’s open.  A door of a room you’ve never seen before.  You decide to go in, it was a very clean room. All white, like an unpainted canvass, like a loose leaf. Then you see a chair. You sat down and it just feels right, but as you were getting comfortable, you heard something, it sounded like paper. You check on the chair was a note:

Hey kid, you like it? This is for you.

Are you wondering who’s going to be knocking on that door?

Then you thought, is this going to be another battle? But you were not yet a full 100. You read on,

The story is not over yet.

Your curiosity gets to you, so you decided to sit tight, relax and enjoy.  You want to see this one through.  It’s not another battle but a challenge.  Challenge by choice, so you take your pick.

-juliet 20181203 1439

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Again and again I find myself at a starting point, well, more of like a checkpoint, like the ones on games.  After the first 4 months of the year, 2018 continues to poke around my life.  It has always amazed me what my day comes up with every single time.  The world has always been my playground. Never my empty canvass for I can’t draw, rather a blank sheet of paper.  Blue sky with chunky white clouds that I’ve always seen in shapes of everyday life and not just a ball of white smoke.  Someone once said, it takes a special kind of eyes.

I have always and always come home to writing, whether typed on a blog, written on a scrap, on a napkin, on someone else’s notebook.  I have always loved the feeling of how paper accommodates my words.  I’m always going to be an old soul, will always believe chivalry shouldn’t die with time.  Yet again people are less concerned with the kind of people they leave and more focused on what society expects out of them.  I have never been of this world, and thus people have frowned, smirked or even spat at the decisions I have made in my life.  It was never about what the world tells me, for I am not his but His.  I have always made my decision according to what I have been given.  I have never looked at my neighbour’s life and wished it was mine.  I have never learned of a friend’s triumph and rained on their parade.  I have always known, I’m of a different kind.  My test questions are different from others, why should I answer them how the world dictates me to.

Many times have I tried to experiment, on people’s responses.  Sometimes I say things, just to see how people would react and get the real answers I need.  I have always had my way with words.  That’s the sole reason why I always give people chances, because I know what kind of tongue I possess.

I know myself better than anyone else, that’s why I never accord my decisions to the world.  This world ran me over multiple times but I just got back up.  I have always loved the solace I have in my life.  I have read that solitude is actually dangerous, because once you’ve experienced it, you would hesitate to let the world in.

Now, I’m starting from scratch, like I haven’t met the people I have, like it’s  December again.  Like I haven’t received a message on my birthday.  Like when my world was peaceful.  Just me, and the few people I love.  Today is my checkpoint.  Starting from scratch.

-juliet 05032018 1547

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.

-juliet 04012018 1641

So…

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.

-juliet 03312018 1646

Never

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?

-juliet 03202018 2014

Your Thoughts on… 

With the year coming to a close,  things rush into your head like a review of a movie that came out this year,  starring you and everybody you’ve interacted with in supporting roles. What has been said; what you have done;  how you’ve reacted or how you should’ve,  could’ve or would’ve reacted and otherwise. Then you ask yourself,  what is an old soul’s business in this modern day?  A time when people are the most sensitive to other people’s feelings but not morals.  Well,  I don’t mean to forget about the rebels. A rebel without a cause, a phrase brought to life by some this day and age. 
Many times have people thought and even sure that the world will end,  pointing fingers on the four horsemen being among us,  walking among us.  Nobody knows but the Father the Bible says,  not even the Son.  But men’s arrogance went so far as calculating when it is. 
Indeed we have come to an age where having morals are being frowned upon by the majority.  Doing the right thing was never easy.  Empathy is as rare as common sense.  Feelings matter more than logic. I have always come back to that essay Paul Harvey wrote entitled,  If I were the devil, the essay has come to life if we try to look around the world today.  To summarize it,  it’s about the modern times,  and what it is today. 
I understand how people have been hesitant to talk about what they believe in, in terms of religion,  what their opinions are in terms of politics and their overall thoughts on everyday things to not offend. Like what our older generations love to point out,  as the idea of our dogs getting neutered creeped into one of our norms,  have we lost ours as well? 

These thoughts don’t come from a high horse or from someone who claims to have a moral high ground but I try.  The tone of these thoughts are rooted from disappointment because as the beings on top of the food chain, we ought to be better. 
-Juliet 12102017

1506 mdst

Let It Go

It is funny how sounds can heal the soul in no way other elements can. Others be healed through a song, others with a sound of rain. It can be done in various ways too. Others sob all the way as the song gets to their favorite part. Others stare blankly into space for they are numbed by each note for they had it on repeat.

Some people say, time heals pain, and some may even believe, some live by it. But only you can heal your own pain. The moment you decide what you do about it, is when the healing journey starts. The deeper the wound is the depth you have to fathom about what you can get out of it. Look at it as an opportunity to grow instead of looking at it as failure.

Though it’s easier to read or write about these things but bear in mind that there will be days and nights that the pain decides to pay you a visit. Now what do you do, when you have come so far? You treat it like any other visitor. Think of it as just a visitor. A visitor, comes to your door with a purpose. Now you can take comfort in another fact, a visitor always leaves. Hey, it’s just a visit.

So let the “visitor” come in, cry if you have to, laugh as loud as you can, sob until you get tired. When you have calmed down, think what’s the purpose. You and I both know this is no ordinary visitor, it doesn’t tell you straight up the reason for its visit. Don’t end the day without figuring it out. Once you have, like any other, walk it to the door and let it out. Then carry on. Allow yourself to experience it, to experience these times. You might initially want to erase whatever thoughts you have, but instead of pushing it, try to converse with it. Try to answer its riddles.

Anchor on the thought that it will all go away soon. Don’t sink with it, you are not the captain. The more you shove it in a shelf, the greater the pains that will visit. Go through the process, allow yourself to be fragile. Be kind to yourself. Forgive yourself. If you think you have done every thing you possibly can, then you can only run so far, if you go any farther than that, it will cost you self respect. Don’t cross that line. Value yourself. You owe it to that 8-year-old kid that dared to dream something.

Juliet – 11292012 – 0750