Posted on November 12, 2014 at 05:47 AM (UTC+08:00) | Comments (0)
And still, for all the jealousy, all the doubt, sometimes I will be struck with a kind of awe that we’re together. That someone like me could find someone like you—it renders me wordless. Because surely words would conspire against such luck, would protest the unlikelihood of such a turn of events.
I didn’t tell any of my friends about our first date. I waited until after our second, because I wanted to make sure it was real. I wouldn’t believe it had happened until it had happened again. Then, later, on, I would be overwhelmed by the evidence, by all the lines connecting you to me, and us to love.
The Lover's Dictionary by David Levithan
"Oh, that's from a book?" he once clarified.
"Yes. Why, did it read like something I wrote?"
"It read like something you felt."
A couple of months in and I still find myself dumbfounded from time to time. Sometimes I wonder if I am dreaming, and when I realize that I am not, I feel happy and relieved. Because yes, this is real, and this reality is mine.Share this post:
Posted on November 6, 2014 at 02:04 AM (UTC+08:00) | Comments (1)
This was written last August on one of my other blogs somewhere but I decided to post this here now because it's something I want to share to the public.
I started dreaming of becoming a writer when I was ten or eleven years old.
Ever since I started reading the Harry Potter series, I have always been amazed at how JK Rowling was able to create such a magnificent wizarding world that she can call her own. At how with just the wave of her imagination and with the flick of her wrist she was able to write seven books about Harry Potter and even now she is still able to supplement the world she has created with bits and pieces here and there with her companion stories.
I wanted to achieve what she has achieved. I wanted to be that kind of person—to be able to create and write a universe or setting or a story that I can call mine. To engage readers into reading something I had written.
And while I ended up with a different career path after more than a decade since I had dreamed the dream, the dream of seeing my name in the front cover of a book I had written is still here.
My life has been a continuous Ferris wheel ride. Sometimes I enjoy the upward motion and revel in the beauty and bliss given by small achievements. But then I start to dread the impending pull of gravity and how its downward pull is enough to make me feel sick to my stomach. All the small achievements would be forgotten in that one quick swoop of downward motion not until I find myself at the top once again.
It’s not always the same. Sometimes the journey to the top feels as if I can be suspended on air for so long and enjoy the majestic view from the top, but some other times I can’t even completely enjoy the journey to the top because before I know it I am already being dragged downward. It’s a vicious cycle that I can’t seem to get myself out of. It’s like no matter what I do, I would always find myself down there, lost in the abyss of setbacks and insecurities.
I am a worrier. I worry that I am no good. I worry that I lack imagination. I worry that I lack knowledge. I worry that I do not have anything important to say. I worry that no one will ever take the time to read or listen. And it’s usually the worrying that’s keeping me from achieving something. Because before I even start fighting or struggling for something, all the worry just gets to me that I don’t even give myself the chance to try and do. And I end up with just a bunch of run-on sentences, incomplete drafts of journal entries, and unfinished ideas or stories.
This worrying and all the insecurities accompanying it is something that I have always been trying to keep at bay. Sometimes my will to feel okay enough wins; some other times I get in a rut that I lose the spark.
Today I was reading a book by Christopher Gutierrez and I chanced upon the words that was enough to push me into writing this journal entry. It was a struggle considering that I have been writing this for about four hours now and yet here I still am with enough will to finish this.
It took a while for me to find the voice in me that I wanted to be heard, to figure out what it was exactly that I wanted to express, but now it only comes to this:
I don’t want to hide behind my worries, my fears, and my insecurities. I don’t want to live a life of half-assed trying and maybes.
I want to fight strong. I want to just do. I want to finish.
Though my heart may be dented and rusted by heartaches and failures, I will keep trying because like Christopher Gutierrez said, it is not about being good; it’s about wanting to be good. And wanting to be good is enough push to actually be good because if you don’t at least want it, then you’re not going anywhere. And I want this. Goddamnit, I want it. And I won’t stop wanting it until I become it.
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Maybe you will become successful, maybe not.
Maybe you will have the ability to live off your talents, maybe not.
Maybe you will feel embarrassed, maybe not.
Maybe people will tell you that you’re no good, irresponsible and unrealistic.
But who cares.
What the haters fail to realize that it’s not about being good.
It’s about WANTING to be good.
What the detractors and critics, unsupportive friends and anonymous commentors will never realize is that we have found something that makes our lives shine. That there is something we were born with that withers away and dies and leaves us old and rusted if it is not constantly watered from time to time with the creative spirit. That we may not have been born pretty or talented and sheltered from so many of life’s speedbumps by the fruits of our parents’ successes but that at the end of the day, we still paint.
And most of all, we create.
We give back to this world. A world where most people take and act like they deserve more.