self awareness


This waiting game is getting me sucked in this paranoia of oblivion. The what if’s are just at bay. I am not flipping out. There’s this part of me that keeps on saying that something is beginning, something is changing.


Over the past weeks, counting the days, being oblivious of time trying to let my mind off of my expectations and imagining the urban life I will endure again feels like at one point that I haven’t done anything at all with my life. Nothing happened. Nothing is happening. The time I have had my last job until today was like it just happened a few months ago.

Sometimes, I even still feel like having just graduated from college. Readying to face the world for my taking. On the other hand, I am at this race against time burying into thinking what could, should have I done in the past. The regret of unburdening myself to figuring out my exit on these gaps I myself have led on comes up whenever I try to resolve something. I might have not taken myself seriously but who does really. The intention of being serious is out though I have this pensive and serious look in my face. I am not just good with small talks so either I am taken as a snob or a bore. In all of these, I just know what works for me and what I can care less.

True enough, we are our own’s worst critic.

I know what I want now and I am keeping myself to doing just that. I sometimes tend to go in a bubble but living in the now is my banner. Accepting for a fact that memories create what we are to do next. Either good or bad memories, all of it happened entirely in the past. As much as we want to not consider it, what we see today and what will happen tomorrow is more than the reason not it. Cliche, mental but true. It happened and is happening in all of us. It is a constant push and pull. No other way.

So,that’s where I stick myself up because no matter how much of life we’ve been through, when we rebuild and choose our way to resiliency we have those memories and we can always start anew.





DSC00149Through reading I experience solitude and quietness encircling me. With me relishing and imagining every chapter I begin to realize that it also becomes a moment of self awareness and examination. You pause at certain lines that struck a chord in you. When I become vulnerable and sensitive at some point certain flashes of my life’s scenes are replayed in my mind. It is with reading too that I try to reflect back on matters and decisions I have made recounting failures, detours and success that makes the human in me whole.

A month and a half ago again I pushed myself¬†getting to the big city. I brought with me two bags full of clothes and 2 pairs of shoes. My newly bought 2 books last December were also properly stashed in my backpack plus the third book I have not finished reading yet. I was doubly deciding in bringing it because it has really been a while. I was torn between finishing its last pages as to the two new books waiting, excitedly enticing my eyes and mind to unfold what’s in them. I ended up still bringing it.

As of this moment, I am finished reading it. I started reading one of the new books two weeks ago. I read slow. Relishing every word my mind captures. Imagining the characters in the scenes on how they move, how they converse down to some antics uniquely described by the author. I am not into voracious consumption kind of reading. When I read, I open my soul until it satisfies me. I may not finish the whole book in one sitting but on every chapter that strikes my attention it feeds a part of me. It opens me to a flow of creative ideas and it reconnects my mental self to a deeper understanding of life-like situations and just toughen up.