63.
My love for him is insatiable. If I could breathe him into my lungs like I breathe oxygen, I’d be gulping for air.
62.
That half-hour just before early night creeps in when the sky’s in different hues and colors and tinges is my favorite time of the day. With the sun setting in the horizon, you feel as if it’s okay to let your thoughts roam free, just like the birds flying south. And for once, you allow yourself some sepia-toned feelings while listening to sad, pastel music.
It’s a perfect mix between loneliness and solitude. It’s lovely.
61.
May 3, 2012; I turn 15 today.
And since today is supposedly my ‘special’ day, I figured I should at least write something that revolves around this um, fact.
Well for starters, this may seem absurd to some people but ask one of my closest friends and they can assess to what I’m about to say…
I like receiving letters and messages better than I like receiving tangible gifts. Because while physical gifts can be touched, letters and messages filled with warm sentiments touch the mind and heart and soul.
60.
There’s something I don’t like whenever someone says, “I know what you’re going through,” because truth is, nobody really knows what another person is thinking or feeling. Each one of us is fighting our own battles, be it with work, conflicts with loved ones, or even trouble keeping up with ourselves and our struggle in controlling our emotions.
Even though your problems are universal problems, your longings universal longings, and your feelings universal feelings—it will never be the same with the person sitting next to you or that lonely, old lady living across the street, or even with the person you deem closest to your heart much more than it is similar to the birds that are chained to the sky.
“I hope you stay strong.”
I think that’s nicer to hear.
Giving someone hope is one of the most beautiful things in this world.
59.
I wish I could paint the world as if it was my own canvas and nobody would shoot me looks or think that I’m outlandish.
On the contrary, what would things be like if the world was monochromatic? And I don’t mean in color, I mean in thoughts and ideas and feelings.
58.
This world is mad.
Sometimes it’s the beautiful kind of mad, sometimes it’s the ugly kind of mad, and sometimes it’s just the plain kind of mad.
I love the beautiful kind of mad. It keeps things interesting.
57.
I don’t like waiting.
When you’re waiting, you’re anticipating, and when you’re anticipating, you get agitated. And when you’re agitated, you’re not yourself. Your nerves are on end and you feel like rushing things, feel like doing something drastic, feel like cursing the wind.
Another thing about waiting, sometimes you can’t even think properly because you’re too focused on the thing that’s about to come. You sometimes lose track of your senses and you sit or stand there and wait, and you don’t know if it’s going to take forever or it’ll end faster than you can sigh and say, “Finally.”
But the thing I hate most about waiting is that I don’t know what I’m waiting for in life and when it’s going to pop out from the box of inevitable.
I sure hope it’s something beautiful.
56.
I am very frustrated by the fact that I don’t exactly know where I stand with myself at this point in my life. You know how some people feel like they’re not in their own skin at times? That’s what I feel at the moment.
Controlling my feelings and state of mind has always been one of my weaknesses. I’m vulnerable when asked about what and how I feel because then, I tend to say everything and nothing.
My mom once told me that I take my feelings way too seriously, and she’s right. I do. Feelings are feelings and they need to be let out but sometimes, they need to be kept too. Feelings aren’t just a phase. They’re alive and they’ll eat their way out, but only if we let them.
55.
“Quiet people have the loudest minds.” -Stephen Hawking
Almost everybody sees me as that awkward, quiet girl who’s sometimes too shy for her own good but really, if they could just manage a glimpse of what’s going around in my mind, they’ll think twice about what they think of me.
Still waters run deep.
54.
I have this certain loathing towards pretentious people. I just ignore them at first but oftentimes it gets a bit too much, the way they think so highly of themselves, that I get downright annoyed.
I never put them off though. I’m shy and people like that intimidate me. I just continue to sit and listen to them talk and wonder how this vast world can contain so much pride and misery.
53.
I love the rain and cold, dreary weather. Living in a tropical county where it’s almost sunny every day, you kind of learn to despise the heat that leaves you sweating from the tendrils of your hair down to the nape of your neck and instead, grow to appreciate every little gust of cold wind that comes your way.
Rain gives me a sense of emotional warmth, a warmth like the feeling you get whenever you drink your favorite tea on an especially cold day or listening to your favorite song during the dead of the night. I like getting lost in the melody of its tear-like drops and subtle rain-splatters and the occasional howling of the wind that’s in rhythm with the sway of the tree’s branches.
But I think that the thing I love most about rain is not rain itself, but what happens right after the last drop has landed, just before the sky starts to clear. That moment right after a rainshower or a storm and there’s this certain quietness hanging over the place, enveloping it in a silent embrace. And then little noises would eventually seep in and settle: the rushing of leaves, the song of the crickets, and even the dripping sound of a nearby leaky faucet.
Oftentimes, I want to bring a standstill on that particular period of time and appreciate what’s happening around me. It makes me feel that even the littlest things in life still count.
52.
52.
My life is a dull canvas of black and white with occasional splashes of color in the form of a Korean pop quintet, more famously known as SHINee.
This is my life summed up in a single sentence. I have so much personality it hurts.
51.
I like shadows and dark outlines portrayed in light. Not only do the shapes they take form in are pretty to look at, but they constantly remind me that in light, there is darkness and in darkness, light.
50.
“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit on a typewriter and bleed.” -Ernest Hemingway
I’ve lived by this quote since the 5th grade, when I first realized that writing was no longer just a hobby, it was something I was passionate about. Writing for me, is not just about using highfaluting words since your skills are not defined by the words you use, it’s the way you use the words. Writing is about expressing your feelings on paper, letting your emotions rush through the black lines and white spaces, and most of all, writing is letting go. Writing is bleeding in that sense. All the things you can’t say, write about it. It’s better to let them out rather than keep them inside because sometimes, the things you keep inside are the things that destroy you.
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