Lately I have been trying to get in my head and pull out whatever thought I have. Trying to go back to my roots, I guess. Yet…Well… Somehow, I can’t. I wish to write, I really do. I wish to throw all this darkness onto paper and forget about it even just for a short while. Tell my story. Explain my feelings and take a deep dive, as deep as I can. But for some reason, creativity eludes me. Sure, I get photos here and there, nice ones that I want to post and share with the world… Poems that I have written that resonated with how I felt... But all I can think about is how… horrific my mindset is during those times. It’s been more than a month since I last used social media for “social purposes”. I have missed a ton of events that I could’ve gone to. I won’t be able to understand inside jokes formed during moments that I wasn’t present. I have lost the momentum, and I have to start all over again. But is it worth it ? Was stepping away from everything worth it ? For the past couple of months I have simply floated, even though I felt like I was drowning the whole time. I still do. I still feel the salt water choking me and filling up my nostrils here and there. Funny, I run to the sea for peace and yet when I envision myself going away all I taste is salt and sand. There have been so many times where I wanted to post a photo and say “I was dying but nobody noticed.”, but people did notice. Charles did. Mich did. Fau did. Trey did. Lala did. Ellen did. Mimi did. Vince did. Mary did. Red did. My MI Girls did. My GGP friends did. I just didn’t engage or open up or let them in. Instead I broiled my mind deeper into these dark and dangerous thoughts and let myself fade away little by little. I let my fear of being misunderstood consume me. I wanted to fight for myself, I really did. But I just… can’t. Even getting out of bed felt like such a huge bother. I just wanted to play my games all day long. Escape to a made up place inside my head. Even breathing felt like such a huge deal. Everything felt like it weighed ten tons. Every move I did I needed help. I needed a couple of minutes of pep talk and reality check that the world is not going to end even though it felt like it is and it will. Every now and then though, I would get this burst of energy that made me feel like I could drop this bleak mindset and just do. I really wanted to get back to my roots, to recover. I want to paint. I want to write music. I want to take pictures and share them with the world. I want to genuinely laugh with my friends again. Meet strangers’ eyes instead of hiding behind my hoodie. But I never seemed to have the mental capacity to do so. Until this morning. Suddenly, I just woke up and felt so tired of just floating. Suddenly I felt like I had enough. Suddenly I had thoughts of the future and what could be. The grief is still there. The worry of not being good enough. The daunting feeling of failing again and again and again and never being able to live up to people’s expectations. So, here we go, I guess. Cheers to trying again and cheers to recovery. Recovery is a fcking bitch but at least I have hope again.

I am meant for more 

I am meant for more 

I am meant for more

These are the words that keep on repeating in my head.

I am meant for so much more than this

I am meant for so much more than this

I am meant for so much more than this

Right now I am having such a hard time with writing and typing out my feelings and I have so many thoughts that are distracting me but I know that I have to push and keep at it. I have to push through and actually write something because I need to exorcize these demons out. 

I need to keep writing

I need to keep creating 

I need to stay alive 

I have been on hiatus for days on end now and I know that I have so much pending things to do but I am not doing anything because I feel frozen. I am actually not sure why, but all I know is that I have to keep my head above water. I need to calm down and work and do what I have to do. 

I have to fight 

I have to breathe 

I have to be true to who I am 

The true me perseveres against all odds, no matter how much she wants to give up. The real me stands strong against all adversities.

I have weathered so many for so long, and I have stood the test of time.

So why do I feel like the world is ending? Or is the world ending as I know it? I feel so uneasy and unsure of everything that I know.

I feel the breeze from the edge of the cliff

The depth is calling me and singing my name

This time though, I know that I am not scared of finality of falling

I am scared of starting from the bottom up again.

I stopped planning my life when I was 16, because I didn't want to reach my 18th. 

But I did, and so I planned my life till I turned 25. 

Reached some, achieved some, surprised myself a lot by the unexpected twists and turns. 

A new year has now begun and once again I am stuck at a crossroad. In disbelief, again. I thought life ended at 16 and planning ended at 25, but... 

Here I am again, filling up a planner that I just bought, continuing my story that should've ended 8 years ago. Here it is again, my ardent and carnal desire to bleed and immortalize my heart, my dreams, my ultimatums, and my soul onto paper. Here I go again.

She who dares, wins.

It has been quite some time since being back here, and I still have mixed feelings about it all. 

Ever wondered how to relive your life? 

A couple days ago, I had the big idea to organize my blog and read through old post drafts that I may have had, which led me to discover so many jumbled thoughts! It was like reading a stranger’s diary yet having a feeling that you know that stranger from somewhere!

Weird, huh? 

As I tried to make sense of the mess that I got myself into, I realized that the most, if not all of these “jumbled thoughts” most likely had a photo album counterpart! How I realized that, you may ask? 

Well, I am a very well photographed baby. And preteen. And teen. And basically my whole life, I guess. I’d say from Grade 4 (Elementary) to now, most of my photos are digital (and are somewhere on the internet!). The rest are in physical photo albums at home!

In case you haven’t figured it out yet, yes, I am going to try to (re)document my life and see what I remember from these posts and and stuff. 

The earliest photos (online, at least) that I could find were from 2007 and some baby photos too. So I guess we’ll start from there. 

I’ll be naming this collection as The Retrospect Series, or TRS in short. 

This might be a very bad idea, opening my whole life on the internet, or it could be a future reference point for any students who might need to do a research paper about me. A girl could dream, LOL!

I’ll also try and list the posts here, but don’t hold me to that! I think I’d most likely just mix it through my other blog posts (because the post dates can be changed muahaha, thanks Blogger!). I’ll just add a disclaimer somewhere that it was actually blogged in 2022 and not whatever year that is. 

Looking back in photos also had a very nice effect on me – 

My mental state got a lot better. Previously, looking at old photos made me feel so delayed and stuck, but overtime it started making me feel proud. 

Because I did that. 

I tried those. 

I made these. 

From a feeling of dread came a feeling of pride. 

Funny how that works.