Hi

*Heavy breathing, it’s been way back since my last blog post that I actually forgot how blogs work anymore. Well, you post stuff, things you like and dislike, express yourself in any manner that involves words, pictures, sounds, etc.

I forgot how little is much and how much is little in the blogging world. I’ve been reading my past blogs lately and some of them aren’t that bad but most of them are selfish or triggered by my defense mechanism to deal with my insecurities. Now that I’ve settled my personal issues. Char. I’m gonna write about honest things, about how I really feel or think. No more pretentious crap about the universe or about romanticizing sadness and glorifying regret (I will be tempted though).

I’m looking forward to things that I’ll be learning while writing and open my soul for correction. Discovery isn’t a way street and even math has poetry (I like Algebra). I didn’t understand that either. I definitely want this blog to be nothing but honest. Maybe I’ll sensationalize things here and there but may it be a reflection of what is trying to be good.

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Credited Reality

We’ve always credited great stories to the imagination. Whimsical accounts of glorious feats and miraculous characters that sprang from the ink of writers. We have been enticed by their words and by their unnatural charm to bring summer into our hearts.

I’m a big fan of fairy-tales. Growing up I read them by the shelves before going to sleep. I applaud in the victory of my favorite heroes and I cry at the loss of their greatest defeat.

I got lost in those adventurous pages of someone’s thought. Someone’s thoughts, those pages were pieces and puzzles of someone’s thoughts. I guess sometimes, most times, the story has overshadowed the writer.

I watched Saving Mr. Banks just a while ago and its story just struck my heart. It’s about, P.L. Travers, the writer of Mary Poppins, how she conceived the heart of her story and how she let it go to forgive herself and save the ending.

The film was an enlightening account of how a wonderful story is conceived. At most times we give ode to the power of imagination to rid ourselves of an unwanted reality but after I watched the film I realized that we should credit the gift of imagination to the strength of our present tale outside the pages.

Dreams always have a tinge of reality. A sparkle that shines offset the glimmering words of hope and happiness. It is reality that gave us the venue to dream, to take flight. A writer’s reality is her joy and pain, her inspiration to go beyond the boundaries of great heights.

The heart of every story is always anchored to the realness of emotions, the plight of moments that have driven sweetest and bitterest heartbeats. Behind every good story is always a reality that hushes its way to the ending.

Misses

I once thought that when you miss someone too much you’ll eventually run out of “misses” to ever miss them again. How wrong was I? I’ve been listening to some nice sappy songs a while ago and I opened my old college journal.

Wrong move because I spent the next two hours reading broken sentences that made so much sense back then. I’ve spent a couple of pages dedicating my thoughts to love and it’s always amusing to read and re-read them all over again.

I came across a page where I listed things I missed about a certain boy and I suddenly miss him all over again. Funny, because we never ever held hands, watched a movie, spent the night alone with the stars or something like that, but he was awesome. He loved Star Wars like I did and he was totally addicted to books and random movies.

We were also different. I had my nose on my academics and he was at times the boy who had his head in the clouds. Nevertheless he was the culprit of my sweetest poetry.

He was the first boy I ever loved too much. I broke some of the rules for him. He made me realize that love is fun and not overly-dramatic. Our conversations were so random but I cherished them like my favorite book.

My favorite fairy-tale had always been “Princess and the Pea”. It’s a normal love story without towers or dragons to slay, the story’s about a prince looking for a princess. He eventually found this girl in the rain, they fell in-love and all the girl had to do was impress her new mother-in-law by sleeping in a pile of mattress with a pea under it. Makes sense doesn’t it?

Love never fails but I’m pretty sure I failed love a million times. I know what true love already is and I finally realize that no boy can ever give me that. Neither will I ever give the truest love to any boy I’ll meet.

But I’m certain that I know how to love someone. I know how to hold their hand and how to let it go. I’m a good listener now and my time management skills have been improving.

Now I fully understand that I’ll fall in-love only when I find it unnecessary. That out of the cataclysm of school and work, I’ll find someone that will never impose their existence but will just gradually make my heart better with or without them.

Love never did ask for anything in return and so did he.

Tickets

CS Lewis

I’m always at home when I’m travelling, staying at one place makes me a stranger. Every bus, plain or boat ride I take is always an adventure, not knowing what to expect.

I would get this cataclysm of traits from people I meet when I travel and I learn a lot from their stories. Every goodbye is always a continuation when you get to know a lot of people from one place to another.

There are those who changed me greatly others and those who passed me by like chaff or a light drizzle. They’re like stars, they may be distant but their memories are visible in my placid sky.

When you travel you always leave something behind.  It’s not always a sad dilemma, because just like what C.S. Lewis said , better things are ahead. New experiences and new friends, the thrill of unfamiliar flavors and uncharted stories. An unanswered question is more exciting.

To Buy

I sincerely think grocery lists are awesome. I like all kinds of lists and maybe that’s why I like listverse so much. This is just a random post about the things that will be a staple in my grocery list. I’ll be pretty much living alone soon, so yeah this list might help me out someday. And by someday I mean this April.

To Buy:

1. Salted Eggs
2. Sweet Potatoes
3. Milk
4. Tea
5. Toothpaste
6. Bagels

Bucketlist

Hello 2014! I have five months to tame you. My days are numbered with your conclusions entering through the windows of hope and terror. If you would be so kind to dissect my heart you’d have a hard time finding fear, maybe I kept it too buried together with my meekness or maybe I lost it forever.

I seem to have found this good fear, the kind that makes me frantic and ambitious. It’s a panorama of a million emotions running back and forth my sleepless nights. My faith is getting better, it’s consciously helping me make right decisions. I’ve mustered all my strength to judge my actions and to consider those who have changed me greatly. I’ve met many amazing people last year and I’ve re-met them.

Staring at the Philippine map in my bedroom wall I conclude that this world is to small for love and its promises. That may be the cause why I’ll always feel like a castaway in this lifetime. I’ll always be finding ways of coming home. There is great pain in ambition, the kind that makes you proud or insensitive to eternity, it can make you forget who you really are and who you’re supposed to be.

Let me dedicate all the seconds I have left to books, travelling and prayer. I pray that life will remain mysterious for my heart and that I live with courage to be foolish enough for the world. I feel secure knowing God has my fate in his hands. It’s really safe to say that we’re all destined for impossible things. We’re born to make a difference not just for this lifetime. What we have are stolen moments of the universe, yet despite their minuscule value they help the sun stay in its place and they give stars a reason to shine at night.

Having a broken heart or a stolen dream doesn’t mean that one lived outside his purpose. Some hearts are beautiful for having made broken and a stolen dream is a trophy of wisdom and acceptance to a far greater calling. I guess it’s important to remember that we all have a love that hasn’t even began yet with the right person. I think love means carrying your dreams along with other people’s dreams. It’s carrying each other’s hope, fears and ambition. It’s sharing a common faith.