Starry, Starry Night

I had an epiphany a few nights ago.

And it didn't matter that I had multivolume books before me, too. Despite my brain's efforts to make a beeline for The Zone, apparently, my heart had other plans.

It was something I just couldn't let go of, despite how much it would take a toll on my sanity. And as much as time proved me wrong, in a select few situations, my cerebral senses just refused to back down without a fight, which is precisely what's making it even harder for my blood-pumping machine to discount the facts that haphazardly flash before my eyes.

Preference never really bothered me before, mainly because I believed in equal opportunities for everything and everyone. Unfortunately, though, circumstances aren't that chummy with time, and so they continuously try to outdo each other any chance they can get. Fun for them, not that much fun for us. We are constantly flung into a world of make-believe, where fleeting moments toy with our hearts and mindlessly injure our brains. In the process, hearts are injured, too, and then you are left with double negatives that speak volumes of how it should have been from the very start.

It's clearly a shocker that the better part of my being, the self-preserving one, only decided to really take this seriously now, when I'm in over my head with possibilities and seemingly superficial happiness. But it's never too late, as they say. Someday, it will make sense why certain decisions will have to be made, no matter how delayed the commencement. I think it just works better that way, to assist my brain in trying to steal the monopoly away from my all-too-dominant heart.

Fatalistic tendencies need not be employed for now, because I believe that it wasn't really supposed to have ended as everyone thought it would, anyway. I simply go with how life allows me to flow. And because of certain things, I may never have faith in praises anymore. The line that separates that kind of truth will always and forever be blurred to me, and the only choice will be to stop the charade. In the end, I don't know if this will be something I'll be sad or happy about; but at least, for now, I can permit myself to stop believing in certain things.. And I hope my internal processes agree with me, too.

Funny that what I've been praying for for the longest time have turned into my own personal kryptonite. The Big Guy up there must really love me to have allowed me to believe in what (I thought) would bring me happiness for an extended period of time. Sigh. Even if I have always had a love-hate relationship with patience, I know, deep in my heart, that I am truly capable of it. Now, however, I think time is asking me to stop waiting and move on to better avenues where my patience will be better received. The bigger challenge, though, is how I could make my heart stop resisting this change.

I guess it's already tiring that all I talk about is my ever-so-conflicting heart and mind. But that's what drives me, really. I do not only function with one (even if sometimes, it seems as if I do), and I always make sure that I inject a piece of both in everything that I do. Love me or hate me, but that's how I was programmed. And there will only be a select few who will be able to figure out how my processes can be reconfigured. I most probably don't know them yet (I think, OR maybe I already do), but it would be super if they showed up sooner than soon. :)

I sincerely (and seriously) hope that this transition won't be exasperating to and for some of my dear friends. I hope they get to help me (even indirectly) endure this, too. Because no matter how much I deny it, I'm still just a girl who gets herself hurt by these things. And surely, that won't be a pretty sight. I will be stupid, I will be careless, I will be annoying, and even childish and inconsiderate but I pray that I still find a ray of light somewhere in my peeps.

In the greater scheme of things, I know that this will be good for me. Clichés aren't meant to be honored, anyway. Change is (almost) always good. And I think what comes along with it, acceptance, will be even better.

posted from Bloggeroid

Okay? Okay.

One step forward, two steps back.

I never REALLY understood that until last night. Allow me to elucidate.

When there's anything someone prepares for—no matter how trivial it may seem to the rest of the world—if it does not, in any way, happen, expect hormones to come into play. Because investment plays a large role in preparation, and when people lose them, sacrifices are lost to oblivion. Adjustments have gone to waste. And, to say the least, hopes are shattered.

What constitutes as grand to some may not necessarily be the same to everyone else. Simple sacrifices are seemingly basic for those who have done "so much," but allowing small lapses to happen in the continuous effort to turn one's life around to someone itching to make a difference matters to the ends of the earth, too. I don't care what people say anymore—that I'm aging, I'm shallow, I'm too prissy, I'm irrational and an overthinker. So what if I am these things? Getting me out of my rut by ever-so-untimely aggravating my mood will not help the slightest bit. I don't care if this is the first celebration of the century, but any normal, respectful, and considerate human being would know when the farce should end.

If anything, I tried my hardest to swing back to normalcy as the day went on. But you can't blame me for the nagging feeling that continuously crept up my spine. So it would naturally take a while, because I take pride in deeming the smallest things (along with everything else monumental) important—and not everyone can understand that. I trudged to my dorm and tried getting comfortable, but to no avail. In the middle of staring blankly at the ceiling, my brain decided to shut my system down and recuperate.

I felt as though I had a couple hours of (mostly) dreamless sleep, and it sugared up the neurotransmitters that made my earlier mood turn sour. I got less annoyed, yes, but I tried looking at the brighter side of things so I could possibly accomplish more work in the night. And then I let out a biiiiig sigh.

That's right. I took a step back and assessed how it could've gone differently.

Of course I refuse to persecute myself for what I felt. They were feelings, after all, and every human is entitled to have at least some. However, I needed to learn from how I miscalculated my reactions so that I could face similar (future) moments with a clearer head. I rationalized every step and came up with an even longer justification (which, of course, I won't write or even I will fall asleep from this oration) and then, finally, it dawned unto me—we take steps back to appreciate what we have moving forward.

I always thought that line was irrational—how come two steps back are needed? Isn't one just enough? Won't you fall behind so much more if, in the case of wanting to move forward, for every step to growth, you retreated two leaps back?

Yet I always found myself thinking that. One step forward, two steps back. Maybe I never really understood it, but I knew I would fully appreciate it someday (aside from the fact that The Moffatts had that line in their song in the not-so-distant past, a.k.a. my childhood, so I would naturally have a connection to it. :p) Like I said, I probably just needed a bit of time to have it grow on me. And grow on me it did.

As the hours dragged by, I countered my worries with something better I could hold on to. That (1) Donation was just not possible because I was working on protecting myself from future harm. My vaccination apparently took 3 months from my last dose before I could help out and give back; (2) Some people just don't get me, still. And that's okay, because some people do; (3) Social graces are innate—you either have it or you don't. And though some of the people I call my friends don't have it, there's a rather competitive percentage of them who do. Therefore, all is well in the world; (4) There will always be someone who will pop up and not give up on you in the worst of your moods. Thank you, you made me laugh, and; (5) It's only a bad day, not a bad life.

My steps back made my heart a little lighter, and I could not be more thankful that it did. Because through that, I found out that these aren't setbacks, but springboards for even more advanced growth. We are tested so that we may be humble enough to step back—two times at that. Because when you're in over your head, you forge on without thinking, and your fear is lost. And you become careless and forget the many things you used to have faith in. 

This may seem like too much for a tiny incident, but what can I say? I overthink. And I see that as a strength—because this way, I won't take anything for granted.  I will learn from the smallest of things, and pray that I may someday reap blessings even more than what I had hoped for. I'm glad this gave me a rather debilitating night, because it gave me time to ponder on what the good (and bad) things were for. And I couldn't be more thankful that it did. 

This could be an experience that some people may learn from (even if I had thoughts mostly about myself, or about anything within the lines of the multitude of things I said). If it helped you understand how I think a little better, then it partly did its job. If it didn't, however, then this is just another blog you chanced upon. Well, I hope you at least had a good laugh. ;)

Running Away With Me

I believe that we live in a world of misfits. I think we all try to exist in our own unique worlds, trying our hardest to appear as though we try to fit in.

The truth is, though, nobody wants to admit that we don't care at all whether our immediate world likes us or not. Call it arrogance or whatever else you may think it is—but any of the real people will own up to thinking the way they do because they long to bask in the warm embrace that their own beautiful worlds willingly give them. For in this all-too-familiar reality our earthly beings have drawn us into, we work towards assimilating entities that slowly build a part of ourselves—so that we grow into the people we aspire to be.

Just My Imagination

30 August 2014, 4:42 pm.

I learned something new today. And it's not at all medical.

It partly is, I think... Then again, I know it totally isn't.

But I did—I learned something I'm trying my hardest to put aside and not believe.

When you think about it, sporadic awareness of pieces of information should at least make life easier. However, in many different situations, that just isn't the case.

I heave sigh upon sigh—of, I don't know: relief? Exasperation? Surrender?—as I listened to each word that would have meant the world to me at an earlier time, but that I've been trying to desensitize myself from in the very clouded present. I knew, deep in the portals of my heart, that some of those words still ring true to this very day. However, it was that same poor, disheveled entity that chose to fight all possibilities, in the fear of succumbing to a pain much worse than anything I've been acknowledging for the past eons of what seemed like forever.

01 September 2014, 10:34 pm.

I would like to believe that I have taught myself to finally choose my battles—but for some strange, demented reason, I find myself fighting the same one time and time again. I wait for a miracle to happen in the deepest forests of oblivion, where virtually no soul can reach my wandering heart.

Funny, though, that my efforts at self-preservation lead me to this same path. That no matter how much I rant and I rant, against all odds, I still fall back into the arms of my yellow brick road. Yes, I often ask myself why I allow such a cycle to happen. But then my brain retorts something so sharp that my entirety believes in it, too. And then for a fleeting moment, in just a split second of reality, I find an all-too-real comfort in knowing that I have been freed from the black hole of my routine. But when all has been said and done, when the masks come off, the heart simply wants what it wants.

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