Tag Archives: insomnia

Published

I’ve written countless words in my young lifetime. And sometimes I wonder if it all mattered. I mean if a tree falls down in the forest and no one is around to hear it, does it still make a sound?

I can’t begin to answer such a heavy question. But I believe all this behind-the-scene writing have helped me improve my skill with words. Scribbling behind the shadows, in this quiet side of the Internet, have rendered my backbone enough boldness to stand and knock at the world’s door.

And the world opened its door on me, even just for a brief moment. It gave me a quick glimpse, enough to validate my existence as a writer. It gave me a quick glance what of I could be in this industry. But more so, it made me realize my flaws and uncharacteristic literary habits. It showed me the long road ahead.

I was published.

I was beyond elated. And if I never write a single word again, I can look back and still claim that I was a writer. But I’d like to think that I’ve been this, without any need of publication- I am a writer.

Even if this little accomplishment was made possible by a local community newspaper. This is a start, and I’m on my way now. And even when it gets rough along the way, I will remember that it’s the process that is most fun. The destination is merely a consolation, but I’m aiming for the clouds still.

SONGOFTHEMOMENT: Brighter Side / Twilight by Ben Howard

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2 Years

Been a while. But I’ve always been here.

This blog has been nonexistent for a while.

No words. No sentences. No paragraphs. No narration. No dialogue. No gestures. No details.

But all the while I’ve been learning about each element. I have been collecting stories and realizations. I have been working on myself, as a writer, artist and friend. All this time, I have been here, behind the screen.All this time I have been committed to this humble blog, as I am committed to my words.

I’ve been waiting for the perfect time to share to the Internet what I’ve been through. And perhaps, now is the most opportune time.

But for now, I will bask in my little achievement of reaching the 2 year mark.

And for those of you who have read my midnight musings in this silent side of the Internet- thank you. I got nothing but love for all of you.

SOTM: Without by Sampha

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A Disclosure

What if I tell you that I don’t have any plans; that I only intend to work hard?

 

Will I still make it then?

SONGOFTHEMOMENT: Too Much by Drake feat. Sampha

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A Case Of Post-Euphoric Writing Syndrome

Summer is a great time for many things: running around, basking in the sun, eating out, sleeping late, catching up on some reading. But never writing.

As a young writer, I’ve always felt that writing comes natural to me in mundane moments of slight melancholy. I don’t mean to be morbid. But writing in a pensive mood allows me to focus on life with greater clarity, and it is not the case that I only perceive sad realities. In fact, I am able to recollect a major extent of my happiness and make sense of it.

It’s in the banal state of mind that I find the right words.

I had a conversation with a friend of mine last summer about how it’s like to write, and we shared the same sentiments about writing while happy. We both concluded on the latter.

Don’t write in the middle of all the happiness.

Happiness is distracting, and that’s not a bad thing at all! The point is to completely immerse yourself in the distraction. When you are happy, stay with it until it decides to fly away. It’s better to write about happiness than be absent in its presence. All those words can wait, but happiness is a rather impetuous fellow. Go out with your friends. Play video games. Sweat a little. Eat a lot and drink a few. Be happy until you’re not anymore. It’s perfectly fine if you don’t remember most of it, what is important is that you were.

That’s why I am lacking blog posts this summer, I was happy.

But now is the time to write again.

đŸ™‚

SONGOFTHEMOMENT: Icarus by Bastille

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I Wear Blue

This is about a girl I’ve been meaning to write about..

She wears a red jacket. And her face blushes red from the cold wintry air. Nails are painted red, all chipped and fading. She was red in my eyes, and everything else that was red.

Red is a strong color. And it’s intimidating and distracting.

Like a laser and a feline.

And I’m a goddam scaredy cat.

SONGOFTHEMOMENT: Book Club by Arkells

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Passion Fruit

This one is about passion.

What is your passion?

Because you can pretty much like anything, and you can do whatever it is that you like until you don’t like it anymore. But passion, that’s something that traverses over one’s superficial preference. It’s a calling.

Circumstances vary like the weather. It could be sunny and it could pour. But whatever the weather, passion remains the same. Passion doesn’t stop when the air is thin and the way up is foggy, it treads on. It’s a reason.

What you love the most could be what could hurt you the most, but it’s also what could love you the most. Passion is a cycle, one that feeds off of itself. It’s a source of worth. A life and death. It’s a purpose.

But passion doesn’t come looking for you. You have to look for it. And it can hide in so many places that you might not even guess. Passion is elusive. But then again no treasure were never buried.

Writing is my passion. And it scares me because it’s the only thing in the world I know that I want to do. No plan B. I can’t think of anything else I can do for a living that would give me the utmost satisfaction. It’s both a blessing and a curse.

It’s funny. I only know because I don’t know.

Maybe, passion is a paradox…

But for the sake of it

Let me write every word with passion.

SONGOFTHEMOMENT: Gracious

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Failing Harder

Fail harder.

I saw this little adage above awhile back, and for some reason it just stuck to me. Maybe because I found it a little bit too pretentious. Like, seriously? Fail? Harder?

I couldn’t have failed any harder today. I got a godforsaken F in yet another English essay. And you’re telling me to fail harder? I got a D after I got a C, and now an F after that D. So i have been failing harder. Now what?!

Sorry, I didn’t mean to take you literal. I just don’t understand where you can possibly pull that ridiculous wanna-be-inspiring phrase from. Did you actually fail so hard you couldn’t even care anymore? Because I have, and it’s worse than being overtly upset.

You see, I wouldn’t give a rat’s ass if the act of learning didn’t come at the cost of time, money and effort. But in the academic world, it actually does. So I can’t comprehend what you desire to mean by ‘fail harder’. See, if you prefer to view it in an analogy; it will be like getting sucker punched in the gut and asking for seconds. For what?! So you can ascertain your poor excuse of abdominal strength? Please.

I hate failing.

But I don’t hate it as much as before it finally blows up in my face.

But thank you for opening my eyes to the lies I’ve been feeding myself. To say that I didn’t do my best is false because I have done my best, but only at the last minute. On those final moment where all you can do is lay your heart out. But in terms of putting in a 100% throughout the whole process. No. I haven’t. I only sprint hard at the last leg of a marathon and when I don’t finish, I justify my effort by that last dash of desperation.

No one needs to fail harder. Failure in any form or degree, is all the same.

And it hurts.

But you move on..

SONGOFTHEMOMENT: Howe Sounds by Said The Whale

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Kiddo

A kid is an epitome of humanity.

It’s true. Kids are raw, blunt and unrestricted. They are not bound by responsibility but they require much care. Their sheer honesty is brutal and their thoughts unfiltered.They can hurt you severely, but they can love you completely.

They contain both good and bad. They go up and down. They never walk, they always run. Never sit still, but always buzzing around. They cry when they’re hurt and laugh so loud, they run out air.

The sense to make sense is nonsensical to a little one, but what really makes sense is nonsense. Because nonsense is really not complicated. And they like it.

People grow up. But to say we’re not like kids is childish.

SONGOFTHEMOMENT: Penelope Judd by Shai Linne feat. Epiphany Kidz

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Engineers

I was talking with a friend who is studying to be an engineer. He’s good with numbers and figures. Systematic in nature, and technical in skill. He asks me about my writing? In which I said, I hate it.

***

To hell with writing.

I can’t find the words to express my frustration, but life is being a thorough bitch lately. Pardon my rudeness. It’s just that there is no word fit enough to convey the weight of frustration I feel.

Notice I said that it’s life that’s the problem, but really it’s my goddam writing. Because Life and writing, they’re both the same. At this point in my life, it’s starting to mean almost synonymously. Because this is want I want to do, this is what I want to do..

But is it really about what we want to do, or how good we do something?

Because, I’m tired of all these arrow-like critiques raining down on my morale. It’s exhausting. And I’m exhausted. The process is cruel. No pity for the young and inexperience.They say you learn from your mistakes, but no. You learn that it’s a mistake. The solution though, doesn’t come readily with learning the mistake. You work on it. You take a guess..

And then another mistake.

Literature is a godforsaken blessing at the same note, a goddam curse. Deciphering the meaning in between the lines is like, groping in the dark. Reading cover to cover is a pill that knocks you out. These literary art forms require good eyes, and sharp minds. But damn, I might as well close my eyes and shut my cranium down. Literature is a waste of time.

But this is where I want to be, in the middle of words.

Damn it.

***

Why can’t I be an engineer?

I’m starting to think that numbers make more sense than words.

SONGOFTHEMOMENT: —

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Perks Of A Stranger

Sometimes, I think it’s better if you don’t know me..

You see, there is a certain danger to familiarity. Once the veil is lifted, there is only you. Vulnerable.

Easy to figure out. Susceptible to request. Likely to pardon.

“Put your best foot forward”. So they say. People like to put on their best faces, when they meet others for the first time. I do too. But what I’ve come to notice as they start to know you, is they start to loosen up. And soon, when you’re ready, they start to wear their own skin. Naked.

And when you see them as they are, the rough edges of their personalities unveiled; unashamed anymore of who they are. All of this, you have to accept but without any consent. All the things that you don’t know and don’t want to know about them are all suddenly on the table..

But strangers, they are safe. The cloud of mystery in which the hide behind protects them from the monster underneath the skin of a person. The feeling of the unknown makes people careful of what they say or do, aware of how they act; a sense of intimidation that comes with unfamiliarity which compels respect.

And in return, they are easy to forgive. They are uncomplicated and easy to get along with. They don’t bring their problems and issues. And neither do you. No one cares too much.

“No strings attached”.

Strangers see good people. Strangers know no good people.

So maybe, you shouldn’t know me.

Maybe..

SONGOFTHEMOMENT: Pieces by Mat Simons

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