Impromptu Story: What happens when you change and let go?

Writing on a Blank Paper

Dance. Flow. Magic.

The sound of the nib as it merges with the blank paper, the friction it creates that casts spells of magic in all of its content and the ecstatic anticipation of what will occur as they merge into one: this… is my writing. Not my exact way of writing, but the writing that unfolds within my writing. Like bright speckles of light that glow in each words, as it flows freely from left to right, creating a symphony of rhythmic dance without even knowing that you’re already dancing your way to finishing a story, a piece of poetry or maybe just random lines like this one.

Allowing. You just allow it. This is how a writing unfolds within a writing. Something else that’s quite hard to define or label was commanding you to write in the most artful of ways that the confinements of your own mind couldn’t even fathom the depth it creates. Often times, you even surprise yourself.

How magical. How splendid. How ideal. Does it happen all the time? No, it does not.

That harmony sometimes goes haywire and out of balance. And more often than not, the more you want to write, the harder the words come out. The blank paper sometimes stay blank, and you stay staring at it for even hours. Clicking the head of the pen, watching the nib goes in and out of its body, with a soothing sound that calms your insides as you wait for the magic that usually takes place. But no, there are times when the fairy muse doesn’t show up to wave her wand of magical congruence unto your hand.

I know this very well. I had magical moments where a writing happens within my writing. A powerful manifestation of visions. A natural flow. A beautiful alignment that even surprises you with one synchronicity after another.

And there are “unmagical” moments too, where nothing takes place, where nothing seems to fit, where i feel stuck in my own head, but i write anyway. I get on with it. And i don’t give up.

You gotta keep writing too. Whether on a literal sense or on a metaphorical, more in depth way, it’s yours to take. Write your own life on a blank paper each day. Some days it will be easy-peasy and violà there’s your piece of story to tell. But some days it will be hard. You might be stuck too. You might even hate yourself for not knowing what to do. But there’s beauty in it. And I don’t need to elucidate for you what this beauty meant. You’ve got to find it for yourself—like how i constantly write on a blank paper—whether in the flow or not, learn to love it equally, as it both serves a purpose to our own personal mastery.

Don’t read this if you’re highly sensitive

This day felt like a day of survival. A day of waiting for the sun to set so it can rise again tomorrow. Such a paradox really but earlier i was getting a little impatient, yet again. Things don’t seem to be working. Walking along this path that has little to no form of lighting. It’s too dark but holding on tight with this wand of faith handed to me by God when He instructed me to go to this direction. My grip is tight, a bit afraid that it slips off my hand. ‘Cause it’s the only thing I have that keeps me going. To look past the limits of my eyes, to search beyond the unsearchable and to try to grasp the shaky uncertainty that tests me.

Should i keep moving or should i go back? What if there’s nothing in there? What if I’m just wasting my time? What if my intuition was wrong? What if this isn’t really where I’m supposed to be? Will there be light if i kept on walking or am I just fooling myself?

These are my everyday questions. My everyday eerie movie. My everyday battle against the demons in my head that are seemingly obsessive. Well, maybe the rollercoaster effect is to blame. The highs and lows of the ride that give the same amount of shitty feeling. The seesaw syndrome of my extremity. Of my duality that makes and then breaks me. It’s just, hard—To live in the present moment. To just be. But I’m trying. God knows I’m trying. But sometimes the pushing to be present hurts. Maybe because it requires of force. Not like a normal gravitational pull like how i am with my writing, with my words, with the world i create out of my imagination. But I’m not allowed to stay there for long. I HAVE TO stay in the present reality.

And I guess there would really be times like these where I couldn’t get my shit together and that I have to push things. And I think this rythym of pushing with so much force will never stop hurting if I don’t stop trying to control things the way i want it. And hell, I know this already, don’t I? Why do i keep on doing the same old shit?

Earlier i thought to myself: this transformation journey sucks. It fucking hurts. The breaking of old patterns just so i can be better. The changing of habits just so i can be consistent. The allowing of things to unfold at the right time so i can be patient. The loving myself first so I can love others more. The building of self-worth so I won’t be needing of validation from other people anymore. And the fucking slowing down and the fucking details! It sucks. It hurts. But it’s essential for my growth. And it’s all for my highest good. Fine. Let me convince myself of this positive fucked up self-help theme of the world right now. To be self-reliant, to know how to self-regulate and to be self-aware! They sound so simple but it isn’t.

P.s. I know this too shall pass. I just had to blurt it out and felt like posting it. If you reached until this postscript, then i guess you’re not highly sensitive at all 😁 (But please excuse my language.)

Pps. I’M NOT GIVING UP.

The art of balance

Recently, I was at my peak state. Highly energetic, full of life and almost always passionate with the work I’m doing. Too hectic that I didn’t find the time to write. There were times, however, that I decided i would write, but it seemed as though my muse weren’t in the mood to show up. Thus I didn’t come looking for it. I gave in to the chaos in my head—put the pen and paper aside and ignored the voices in my head that wanted to be written and be heard.

My problem is, i am currently obsessed. I say “obsessed” because i want to put emphasis on the fact that it’s REALLY bad. I am getting too obsessed with winning that all i get to think of was that goal. My mind became restless. My boyfriend even told me the other night that i came to a point where i sleep-talk, murmuring some things about work—and that’s where it hit me.

Though it’s true, that there’s nothing wrong about working so hard and focusing on a goal and getting all things done and believing that you will achieve it and actually making it happen but the question is—are you progressing? Am I progressing? The answer is NO. I am not growing because I don’t get to enjoy the process of winning because all i care about was getting it. My Reticular Activating System has overruled and programmed me well enough to focus on that goal that the rest of what used to matter a lot, started to matter less and lose its significance.

And that’s where the problem comes in. It’s when you wallow yourself in with long hours of work, thinking day and night of how to achieve the desires of your heart that you tend to forget how to pause and be grateful. We need to treat ourselves of some REAL kind of rest where you would stop stressing yourself out about your goals and targets and dreams and just about anything that drives you mad. It’s okay to be crazy and to be passionate and to be focused but hey, don’t forget to recharge your batteries. Don’t drain yourself too much and have some fun. I’m writing this at 2am as a note to myself with hopes that it will serve as a wake up call to all of you out there who’s been working so hard. I salute you. But please, don’t forget to take a break and learn to master the art of balance.

Of what’s keeping me awake

Words keep me awake. They always ruin my ultimate goal to create a normal sleeping habit of sleep-early, wake-up-early kind of thing. I’ve always fooled myself that I could do it, even my boyfriend almost always roll his eyes in incredulity. Hell, it’s f*cking hard. The eyebags are even worse to look at when you wake up, looking all worn-out and restless despite the idea that you also get atleast seven hours, albeit inconsistently. And yes, the morning after effect always makes me regret staying up til like 3am just to give words some freedom. And yes, I blame the words. These words that give me such indescribable aching pain in an unknown part of my soul or maybe something deeper than that, if there is. Quite a challenge to explain. I’m sure artists (like my boyfriend who actually said this and consider himself a “night owl”) would agree to me if I say that staying wide awake between 12 midnight to 4 am usually gives birth to crazy ideas you didn’t know existed. It’s funny to think I was saying this, after an argument I made with my boyfriend recently when I encouraged him to sleep early to that certain level of absurdity, because even I couldn’t do it. Perhaps it’s that mad debater in me who always wants to win that took place in that “little debate” about sleep and oh yes, that’s a totally different story. I’m talking about words and what they do to me. And this is not just about “seeing” words that fly above my head in my consciousness but more. I don’t just see words. I FEEL them. And sometimes I find it ludicrous, most days I laugh at my own. I laugh at my own sense of folly for thinking that words have a soul, that they have a meaning, that they have a heart that beats of hope and of love. It’s true, that I sometimes feel ashamed with the idea that I exaggerate things uncontrollably and unconsciously but oh God, this is what completes me—as a writer and as a person overall. It completes me… feeling words and hearing them having each distinct sound and melody that compliments my current mood. How spectacular, I thought. To look at words as magical and mysterious—to that extent that they surprise me everyday of the depths of sense they evoke in me. Isn’t it odd? That having too much passion also has its consequences? Like the abnormal sleeping habits, obnoxiously looking eyebags and having a mind that wanders all the time and one that could hardly focus at times? It’s absolutely weird but you know, I thank the heavens for it. Not everyone, especially in this day and age, has the courage to speak proudly yet in the most modest manner ever, about what he truly wants and what makes him tick. Of what he dreams of becoming one day and of what he’s really passionate about. And what’s even worse, is some of us don’t even know what we TRULY want to begin with. Thus, I decided to talk big of what makes me happy, of something I wouldn’t trade for gold, of something I have in me that no one have the capacity to steal. Now, what’s yours? What’s keeping you awake at 3am? Is it music? Is it art? Is the the girl of your dreams? Or is it the reveries you’re having of being Number One? What’s stopping you from embracing it? Fears? Is it that fear of judgment that kills the strength in your bones? Damn it, that’s already a thing in the past! We’re now in this time where all the resources and even sources of motivation are open and available to inspire us to pursue our calling. Hence I therefore challenge you to conquer your fears and do the reason why you wake up (even despite the lack of sleep) with a full smile on your face everyday and do it with so much fire and passion that people would think you’re too much or maybe even call you crazy—and it’s alright. Atleast you know what you want and you don’t fake it. People who fake it sometimes make it, but you know, it expires. Soon they will run out of energy pulling up the invisible strings in both edges of their lips just to show people they’re fine. But not You. Because YOU know exactly why you breathe and you know that one day you will seize whatever it is that keeps you awake. I encourage you to do what you want and do it with so much heart and I promise you, you will never run out of reasons to live. Be passionate. Stop boring yourself doing the things you don’t really like. Like what my mentor said before, there’s no such thing as “lukewarm”. There’s nothing in between. It’s either you go up or you go down. Stop jailing yourself in that little box. Go out there, do what you want, and discover what life has to offer en route to your dreams.

(Above photo is an original Digital Painting crafted beautifully by the best artist and boyfriend in the world 🧡)

Circling thoughts

Today, I felt empty. I buried my face on the table where I write, with my hands and arms reaching for one another like they both needed that warmth, that hug that could maybe lessen the intensity of the pain I have inside. I listened carefully to the chaotic rhythm my tears make as they run down my cheeks and each time it drops to the surface of the table like a raw melancholic beat. Tears that created a melody that nearly lulled me to sleep—that aftermath of crying that makes you want to just close your eyes, hoping for a beautiful dream that you believe show signs.

But then you realise that the things in your head still want you to keep blinking and think more and more til you reach that certain level of restlessness. I am restless, my mind exactly. Not sure whether it’s the right part of my brain that makes my head ache for the flood of words that wanted to escape or if it’s the Amygdala who confuses itself for the battle of emotions that fight against each other to find out which one stands out best. Perhaps, the latter. The war each and everyone of us create can sometimes get too damaging, worse yet, it could make you feel so down and even depressed. Needless to say, I reached that phase of downhill, of rockbottom, of almost losing yourself as you drown your own aching body to the bottomless ocean of agony you thought existed.

Truth is, it’s all in my head. I knew it’s not real when something invisible poked me in the head that made me release my face from drowning in its own tears. Something that cannot be seen, like maybe an angel who whispered to me saying, “you have to look up”, thus I did. I looked up and looked out the window from my left. There I saw a rainbow that showed up like a unicorn passing by with a full smile on his face. Why, I asked myself, does the rainbow suddenly filled my emptiness? And is it really the rainbow that made me feel better or it’s just me wanting to use that rainbow as a tool to lift my spirits up and keep on fighting?

Sometimes, we know where to find the answers but our fears don’t allow us to get there as swift as we want to. Perceiving the road as dark and scary instead of looking at it as a trail of colours with such extraordinary beauty. Some days it’s okay to be empty, it’s actually an opportunity for you to seek for ways to fill your heart with gratitude as you search for the signs you’ve been praying for. But please, don’t stay there. Stop doing that to yourself. Get up and fight the voices in your head that kills your confidence. Hasn’t everyone told you yet that it’s in your hands? Isn’t it too cliched already if I say that the choice is yours to make? Cliched or not, I’ll say it over and over again to strengthen that belief system we all need to guide our way. The power you used that made yourself feel miserable for the nonexistent fears that has lead you to such disastrous episodes is nothing compared to the power you have to turn everything around. You decide your own destiny. Shape it the way you want it with the guidance of God who knows what’s best. Everything’s going to be alright, trust me.

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Photo credit: Pinterest