once again, welcome to my room

Hi there, it’s been really a long since my last post. I went on a very long hiatus, and finally I find the courage to step in again to blogosphere. I’ve got a lot of things to tell - on where I’ve been, what did I do for the past year, and to whom I shared my idleness with. A lot of things to share, overwhelming, but I don’t know where to start. Well, really nothing much has changed when it comes to my life’s struggle and my restrained outlook. Yeah, still the old me going back to my first post in 2008, maybe I just got worse, less life, less colour. Oh no, I might be putting a lot of drama now, so switch topic. So, for a brief reintroduction, I am still a nurse, but not practicing at the moment. I quit my job last November 2013, went on loooong vacation on the land down under. I became a beach bum, got baked, learned to live in a slow pace, had the taste of British life under a lamp, and most of all, I got stupefied with the Australian accent. Then I went back to Manila, spent a lot of dough as if I had a stash of gold, and learned to swipe my credit card unlimited. I went on my first climb at the coldest mountain in the country. And my craziness ran over when I clicked the NMAT registration just a few days before the exam. And now as I type this note, I am having a giddy feeling, exhaustion, frustration, and realisation of being an official bum. What’s more to that is I live each day with my escalating credits and procrastination in job hunting.

Grins, that’s for now. Good morning.

How i baked myself.

Drench me with plethora of emotions.

Again, I am caught in this kind of dead moment wherein listening to some sort of emotional pop song would suffice the need for pain. There is a little heart pinching, but not enough to cause a teardrop. The feeling that there’s only a flimsy emotion to put away is terrifying. I fear not of being weak, because I yearn for the push of self-pity potency afterwards. I fear not of sadness, since it gives more meaning to ecstasy and all the conceivable hedonism. I fear not of bead of moisture, I even induce it to a weeping waterfall. I fear that I might abuse this impassiveness, that I might lose all the colours of life even the darkest shades, which in time might just left me with an empty sight. I fear of being detached with my emotions. I fear of the coldness in my brainwaves. I fear of being meaningless. So now help me, strike me with melancholy, and hit me with agony. Drench me with plethora of emotions.

someday you'll know...

Faraway I used to whimper over heartaches. Simple misunderstandings had caused me restless nights and long written apologies. And the “i-miss-you” made me to take trips in the middle of the night. Goodbye was unknown before, but now it’s the only way to live life

It’s just memories…

That I placed at hindmost part of my storage room. I consider that life event as a distant past. There were times that it came out aversely, but an obsessive-compulsive soul was always there to meticulously sweep the floor and box that dirt at the furthest back of the room. There’s a pre-set full denial that always run-in whenever an element of inappropriateness trickles. It’s like a Freudian dream censor. 

To eat a humble pie is not enough for your two years of your waiting. I know it’s perplexing for you on how the wind changes it course so hasty. There were also questions in my mind, but I let fly along the gush of blustery weather. I said my last words with encouragement for a sunny day for both of us. No more what-ifs, no more once more. It’s over.

When two people fall in love it doesn’t mean they are meant for each other.