•September 19, 2018 • Leave a Comment

I am not in control of my dreams. my subconscious. Yet that yearning comes visiting again. It seems to come in spurts- in alternating moments of wakefulness and sleep. I hit snooze. I wanted to stay there, where ever that is, suspended in time. It seems so peaceful and familiar. Landslide plays in the background. I see someone looking up at the stars. It is nothing but a distant memory. but it is so close to me in that moment. I feel both a weight on me and this lightheadedness that my body seems to embrace. I wanted to stay a little longer, if I could just… I wanted to make it last.

But alas, I am up now. I need to head out. It is a busy day today, after all. I take a look at myself in the mirror one last time. I see a different person.

I spend all day forgetting. Yet I keep coming back.



•April 4, 2018 • Leave a Comment

So I had this weird dream last night. I woke up with this almost deep nostalgic yearning of something I used to have. Words are not enough. For a moment, wide eyed and laying in bed, my body seemed frozen in time and my heart beat fast. There was this dull ache. No tears. Just pure ache in my chest.

I think it’s funny that after all these years, I still have these moments. I’m a completely different person now, but I still go back. Way back. It’s a funny, exhilarating feeling. Almost like driving your car recklessly. But in that split moment, it feels so darn good. So real.

There has never been anything more real.


don’t. like.

•May 18, 2017 • 4 Comments

Right now, I’m sitting at a cafe pondering about who I should call to hang out and share the burden of my thoughts with. Then I realized, there’s no one I’d rather be with than myself. There’s absolutely no one I can turn to who I trust enough not to judge me when I’m feeling extra shitty.  Somehow, this idea of image I have of myself being such and such is holding me back from being around other people for fear of being scrutinized severely. I can hold myself up just fine, sure. But for how long can I last with a finite amount of coffee tirelessly running around with my thoughts?

Maybe I need to spend a few days with myself again. It’s healthy, they say. Problem is, I don’t even like myself. Okay, maybe not my WHOLE self, but at least those little parts that make up ME. I have been entertaining the idea of talking to a therapist lately and hoping that that will reveal a brighter and kinder version of me. Maybe then I’ll have a go at myself not pretending like someone else I wish I could be. But… it is an idea. Not really sure If I’m going to actually push through it. I know It sounds superficial, but how do you even begin the process of letting go and loving yourself more? I’ve always had a peculiar liking to drama but not when it takes over your life like this. I’ve been told to seek help and refuge from my loved ones, my mom, dad.. but I don’t like showing any signs of weakness. I feel like that’s when I start to fall apart. I’m beginning to vicariously ride the emotional waves of Hannah Baker from 13 Reasons Why, but not completely compelled to go through extremes as to taking my own dear precious. I feel sort of invisible, uncared for.

Gibberish, gibberish, blah blah, yada yada… Who cares? Nonsense. I’m done. Ttyl.


The Girl Right Here.

•December 16, 2016 • Leave a Comment

Soo I was a wee bit inspired by this movie The Girl In the Book and had a sudden urge to write something down. Here goes.


It’s a pretty mundane life day after day. He gets up at five in the morning, heads out the door and says goodbye to wife and his kid. Then slaves away in the hospital all day.

Yet one day, he comes home to a beautiful, lovely child. A child I say- but to his eyes, she is but a blooming adolescent girl, with nice long wavy hair, slender body and a quick suggestive smile. When she opened the door for him, she called out ‘daddy’s home’ to his kid she’d been watching almost all day. He stepped in, yet rooted to a spot where his eyes lingered on her behind as she picks up a a teddy bear on the floor to be put away. She squeezed the thing with what fragile strength she has and says ‘this one is a bit nasty, don’t you think?’. His brows twitched for a second, unable to grasp reality, then finally forces a pathetic nod to say ‘yes, it has been…’

The time has come for her to leave. Her ruffled skirt sways as she walks on, revealing a mound of porcelain flesh. He walks her out and in that momentary glance behind the screen where a shadow covers part of her face, he caught both a sly smile and a formidable turn of events.

•September 8, 2016 • Leave a Comment

“The stars are always there but we miss them in the dirt and clouds. We miss them in the storms. Tell them to remember hope. We have hope.”

I need to remember this little gem in times when my world seems bleak and sad. I’m a little short on words lately, but I’ll talk to you soon. I promise.

I’m doing fine, in case you’re worrying. Better than last time- I can tell you.


•May 20, 2016 • Leave a Comment

I don’t know. Sometimes I just don’t know anymore. Whoever told you that navigating through your 20’s could be this hard?

Tonight hit me really hard. But the kind of hurt that resembles a soft thud, kinda like the feeling that lingers when you hit your elbow on a hard surface and pain isn’t that painful partly because you’re so familiar with it, and partly because you know it’s going to pass. but as of now, it’s nagging. it will keep on. there’s no telling when it’s going to end. meantime, here i am trying to stay focus on finals week and trying so hard turn my emotions off.

he tells me i’m strong. but am i? sometimes i wonder what that word really means, and entails. what makes a person strong? can a person be called strong when it feels almost emotion there is? can i still be strong when i can’t learn to forgive just yet? what if it’s really hard to forget?

i’m honestly sick of being sad, crying when things get out of hand. tears all over the place. so sick of trusting, relying on someone to love you as much as you love them. sick of always giving myself away and have all my expectations shattered. why do i even bother so much?

ghost of me

•February 25, 2016 • Leave a Comment

Lately I fall in and out of touch of my creative side. Even the mention of that word seems distant, unfamiliar. Like that childhood memory you have in your early years starting puberty where you kiss a boy and you think you liked the feeling of your lips lingering tingling sensation, but is that what really happened? or are you shaping a relatively uneventful memory into a happier one? It feels as if I’m trying to chase an old ghost of myself lately. There’s this desperate nostalgic feeling of trying to piece old pieces of myself together. This shows up in my dreams and I find myself waking up wide-eyed in the wee hours of the morning thinking, what the hell happened to my life? did it just go by this fast?

It’s a strange, helpless feeling… nothing seems wrong, yet something feels missing. I go on wandering like this for days like I could’ve been sleeping this whole time and dreaming up days when someone would finally wake me up. Then boom. I’m awake once again. I’m aware. I’m mindful. But where did my old dashboard confessional cd go?