The ruins of us.

When you stop thinking about it, when it stops crossing your mind, when your mind stops chewing on it over and over again is when you know it doesn't matter to you, for real. As long as you repeat the oh so famous I-don't-care, you still do. Truth is when you stop saying I don't care is when you really don't. Thinking about it now, I never thought I'd be here, indifferent. I never thought It wouldn't matter to me anymore. I don't seem to recognize the me that doesn't miss it, that doesn't think about it. I don't know what went wrong, but something did. That something that went wrong inside me, is what saved me. I stopped being in denial, that thing they call acceptance started to bloom.

It was like living in a house where the roof has fallen off and looking up everyday and smiling, being all Pollyanna about it. I don't care, I just don't care. What they're calling a wreck, is my home. What they don't like is what I built brick by brick over such a long time and I can't afford to lose it, lose what I've built so far for a little desturction. I can't let all the beautiful memories go to waste, its who I am, its all that we are. Invincible, irreplaceable. No, the roof is not a sign, and no it is not crumbling down. It wont kill me, it can't kill me, its whats keeping me alive. Living around all this is the reason I wake up in the morning. There isn't anywhere like this anyway, I'd trade the entire world for this. It may not be what it once was, but its our place. 

Truth is, the helplessness it made me feel broke my heart. It was a mess that I couldn't stop, It drowned me in deep denial. I didn't like living in a roofless house, I didn't like the sun, I didn't like the exposure. I felt unsafe, unprotected. It didn't look like something that belongs to me, it didn't feel like something that once belonged to me. I looked up, like every other morning, and asked myself "Is it worth it?" 

And it was more crushing than courageous to finally realize, it isn't. It wasn't worth it, it wasn't worth holding onto. There was no room for false hope or denial, no room for sweeping issues under the rug no more. That sad grey morning, I moved out.

The battle of the greatest powers.

The feeling, the ache right in the middle of your chest. A physical sensation of your insides shattering to a million little pieces, a broken heart or so they say. In our minds, the problem is always our hearts. A battle of right and wrong. A battle of power, of unconsciousness, of control. They trick you, you find yourself unconsciously giving in to their hidden powers. Follow your heart they say. Then again, be smart use your mind, because hearts make fools out of us and the mind knows whats best for you. Being smart, is always associated with using your head. That is where we are wrong. It is not the heart thats the problem, in fact it is our mind. Our mind is what keeps on relentlessly going over things, over and over and over again. Our mind is what keeps us restless, sleepless.. 

Literary the heart, the actual heart, does not get hurt. In fact, it does not feel anything. We cling to ideas, we create problems that only exist in our head. Mainly because most of the time, we want things to be different, we expect them to be different, most importantly we spend so much time thinking of what ifs. What if, this that and the other. What if things were actually different. In our minds we do not accept things or people the way they are. We constantly have the urge to try to change things, change people, change reactions, change feelings, change situations. The mind is persistent, insistent, impatient.  The power of a persistent mind is larger, than the power of a thousand hearts. It just can't let it go, can it? 

Que sera, sera.

Once upon a time, there was a girl. Always calm. Always quiet. A creature of many faces, she would be ugly and unpleasant at times. Too much to take, too much to handle. A mess. And at other times she was mind blowingly beautiful. Perfect, just what everyone needed. Left a lingering smile on faces. Thing is, that poor girl was usually mistrusted, misjudged and always misunderstood. They didn't trust that all she wanted was the best, their best. They didn't know that she had their bestest interest at heart. They didn't believe in her. They wouldn't. They just couldn't give up their power, their will, to a little girl. How could they give in? Noway.
She wasn't anyone's favorite. Regardless, she kept on happening, showing up. A little creep, they said. Scaring everyone around her off. And that didn't feel good, it worried her. It made her feel very much neglected.
So she prayed, every night for that one day, that one day she would finally prove herself right. Waiting patiently for them to see things through her glasses. They may not be rose colored, they may not colored at all. But they were just right. No illusions. No lies. Just the way everything should be.

Her name is Fate and Fate is coming.

The memory.

I sat there. Helpless. As the tears ran down my face and my heart swelled with feelings of nostalgia. A feeling I don't know too well, one that held me down. Like an anchor pulling me down to the very bottom. Into a deep dark blue sea. That's exactly when I realized I wasn't going to break my own heart, little by little, it was already slowly getting broken. I sat there. Thinking of how something that only exists in one's mind, a thought a memory, is what can and what does shatter you into a million little pieces.

A fortunate accident.

"Love is a temporary madness, it erupts like volcanoes and then subsides. And when it subsides, you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion, it is not the desire to mate every second minute of the day, it is not lying awake at night imagining that he is kissing every cranny of your body. No, don’t blush, I am telling you some truths. That is just being “in love”, which any fool can do. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident.” 

-Louis de Bernières, Captain Corelli’s Mandolin

Meet me, halfway.

In my world, everything turns out just the way I imagine it to be. A carbon copy of the picture in my head. But we are not in my world. And time has shown me that, what is in mine is not in yours. Different worlds are inexistent to each other. So, I went back home, to my world and packed my bags. I'm not quite sure if I'm ready to leave. To leave everything I believed in for so long, behind. Permanently. For good. Maybe not, not just yet, and maybe I wouldn't ever be. But the time has come. I have no choice, I've got to leave. Something is waiting to meet me on the other side, Reality. 

Perfect flaws.

Ever since you received that phone call, all you think about is.. what to say. Jotted down on a piece of paper are your answers to all the "tell me about yourself." "what can you do that anyone else can't?" "why should we hire you?" questions. You think of every possible positive thing you could say about yourself. Carefully choosing only the concinving and powerful words, the "right" things to say.

Of course completely oblivious to the fact that the golden question is.. 

What is your biggest flaw?

So you sat there, stunned. The voice in your head is confused, puzzled. Your facial expression goes blank. What? Me? Talking about my flaws? No. That isn't happening. Even if we both know (the annoying voice in my head and I)  I'm not anywhere close to perfect, in fact I'm far from that. But no, no one gets to hear it from me. I need to be  perfect for this, I can't just admit to my oh so many flaws. 

Right there and then, I said.. 

Well here we go.. For starters, I'm arrogant. Just the way I've always been, too proud with an ego too big to carry around. I'm paranoid. I tend to make up stories and never-ending scenarios in my head, all of which I end up believing myself. I may have the all put together image, truth is I am a little too crazy in the head. The voice in my head and I don't talk much, but when we do, there is always someone around to listen. That doesn't always go so well. I don't know what I want. I suffer from a chronic disease called, uncertainty. That is slowly eating me up inside. I am very much of a perfectionist, that it kills me, let alone is slowly killing everyone around me. They hate me for that. I forgive but I don't forget, I never forget. As much as I seem careless, a B- would really upset me so much. I'm pathetically emotional. Too sensitive for my own good. I constantly worry too much that I may not live up to my very own expectations, most of the time I'm too hard on myself. 

Hired? Maybe, maybe not.

Point is.. That is all of which, make me who I am.

Take a moment, be grateful for your flaws.

Not quite alright.

Looking around I wonder if everyone has everything figured out. If they know what they want and what they're doing. If they are privileged enough to feel satisfied and certain. Uncertainty I think is the hardest sufferings of all. Being uncertain, confused, stuck.. lost.

As human beings, we base our judgments solely on appearance. Therefore, based on mere appearance, on how we judge a person according to how they look and act, we decide that everyone out there doesn't know how it feels like to go through whatever it is we are going through. Our brain automatically decides that we are the only ones that have known distress, misfortune and heartbreak. Only human nature. Truth is, it is an illusion our minds create, in which everyone is living content, carefree and fulfilled. An illusion which only makes you feel much more devastated because in your little bubble, you are alone.

Have hope.

Hope.. comes in many forms. Hope hides behind that prayer to God before bed, behind that coin that is tossed in a fountain, behind that wish upon a shooting star, behind that eye shut tight as you blow your 21st birthday candles. Sometimes hope is just a thought, a state of mind. Like hope for better possibilities. A new job, a new car, a baby or better health. And sometimes hope is bought in little moisturizer jars, eye creams and so on.

That thought reminds me of a face moisturizer I bought a very long time ago thats called Hope in a Jar by Philosophy. Not only is the name so catchy, but the description also said "Where there is hope there can be faith, where there is faith miracles can occur." Unfortunately, that little jar disappointed me, it was too greasy, smelled funny and it was definitely overrated. Regardless of all the good reviews I read, (let alone the name itself that gave me hope) I was disappointed.

If you take a moment to think about it, you never do anything without it. Hope is just there, always, regardless of how much or how little it may be. The only reason I think you could have a little to no hope in a certain something is due to past high expectations that led to disappointments. Still, I'd have to admit that even after heartbreak, too much expectations and disappointment there is always hope. When chances are closest to zero, when you hit rock bottom, when you've got nothing at all, hope is all you have. For it is the push, the power, the willingness.

“When you have lost hope, you have lost everything. And when you think all is lost, when all is dire and bleak, there is always hope.”

- Pittacus Lore, I am Number Four.

White flag.

I came across a quote by Roland Barthes the other day that said, "To whom could I put this question (with any hope of an answer)? Does being able to live without someone you loved mean you loved her less than you thought?"

I always wondered. If you can live without someone, and by that I mean, you were either pushed apart as a simple result of fate or choice. Does the fact that you were able to live without them mean you loved them less than you thought? Maybe not. I don't think it has anything to do with loving them less. I think it's a part of letting it go. Moving on. A natural part of self preservation and self-protection. When things end, (what you need to realize is that sometimes some things are worth fighting for more than others), but when they do regardless of the fact that you fought enough to keep them alive or not, you have every right to move on. Move forward. You may not realize that at the beginning. Because the beginning of the end is that phase where you are caught up, stuck, choked up on what it used to be and how much you want it back. Things change. I wouldn't say people leave. But people move on. And sometime beautiful connections are forced to end. They just have to.

We all have that two entirely different person inside of us. The too strong and too weak. You may not want to admit one or the other's existence. They exist, and they battle against each other. You see, this is a part of me comforting the other part of me. Talking the weak person inside me out of war. Raising the white flag, making peace.

A.

Vulnerable and proud.

Bored out of my skull, I was exploring the many iTunes store apps, searching for interesting apps that'll entertain me in the process of waiting for Mr. Sleep, I came across the TED app. I only recently became TED talks obsessed and that is ever since I took the public speaking course. So that night, I stayed up even later than the usual watching a talk after another until I came across Brene Brown. Brene is a researcher and author that shares what she's learned from a decade of research on the power authenticity, empathy and shame, courage and vulnerability, belonging and the need for connection and the affect these powerful emotions have on the way we live, love, parent, work and build relationships.

I, and I'm sure most of you, thought that vulnerability is a negative emotion. Unwanted and despised, because in our opinion it makes it weak. It kills strength and will-power. What I want to share with you is the story of how I was proven otherwise, of how I came to realize that there is no reason to be ashamed or afraid of being vulnerable.


"Vulnerability is the birthplace of innovation, creativity, and change."









Vulnerability does not = weakness.


A.

Sums it all up. Waiting.

“I have always, essentially, been waiting. Waiting to become something else, waiting to be that person I always thought I was on the verge of becoming, waiting for that life I thought I would have. In my head, I was always one step away. In high school, I was biding my time until I could become the college version of myself, the one my mind could see so clearly. In college, the post-college “adult” person was always looming in front of me, smarter, stronger, more organized. Then the married person, then the person I’d become when we have kids. For twenty years, literally, I have waited to become the thin version of myself, because that’s when life will really begin.
And through all that waiting, here I am. My life is passing, day by day, and I am waiting for it to start. I am waiting for that time, that person, that event when my life will finally begin.
I love movies about “The Big Moment” – the game or the performance or the wedding day or the record deal, the stories that split time with that key event, and everything is reframed, before it and after it, because it has changed everything. I have always wanted this movie-worthy event, something that will change everything and grab me out of this waiting game into the whirlwind in front of me. I cry and cry at these movies, because I am still waiting for my own big moment. I had visions of life as an adventure, a thing to be celebrated and experienced, but all I was doing was going to work and coming home, and that wasn’t what it looked like in the movies.
John Lennon once said, “Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans.” For me, life is what was happening while I was busy waiting for my big moment. I was ready for it and believed that the rest of my life would fade into the background, and that my big moment would carry me through life like a lifeboat.
The Big Moment, unfortunately, is an urban myth. Some people have them, in a sense, when they win the Heisman or become the next American Idol. But even that football player or that singer is living a life made up of more than that one moment. Life is a collection of a million, billion moments, tiny little moments and choices, like a handful of luminous, glowing pearl. It takes so much time, and so much work, and those beads and moments are so small, and so much less fabulous and dramatic than the movies.
But this is what I’m finding, in glimpses and flashes: this is it. This is it, in the best possible way. That thing I’m waiting for, that adventure, that move-score-worthy experience unfolding gracefully. This is it. Normal, daily life ticking by on our streets and sidewalks, in our houses and apartments, in our beds and at our dinner tables, in our dreams and prayers and fights and secrets – this pedestrian life is the most precious thing any of use will ever experience.”

- Shauna Niequist, Cold Tangerines: Celebrating the Extraordinary Nature of Everyday life.

A lover's discourse.

“Am I in love? — Yes, since I’m waiting.” The other never waits. Sometimes I want to play the part of the one who doesn’t wait; I try to busy myself elsewhere, to arrive late; but I always lose at this game: whatever I do, I find myself there, with nothing to do, punctual, even ahead of time. The lover’s fatal identity is precisely: I am the one who waits."

- Roland Barthes.

I want 'em moments back.

I don't know if what I'm feeling is nostalgia, loss regret or guilt. I think it is more of a longing for what it once were. Or, maybe the feelings mixed together, stirred up by memories and emotional dynamics. It takes so much time to get over things, but then again places and people bring you right back. Momentarily. You get that mixture, or I-don't-know-what-to-call-it again. You are caught by surprise. Reminded of how it felt like. I've been numbed by time that I don't feel anything anymore. Until I was right there, in that place, that it hit me. I miss it. I miss it and I want to go back. I want the sweet old moments back.
A.

Its yours.

Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreparable spark in the hopeless swaps of the not-quite, the not yet and the not-at-all. Do not let the hero in your soul perish in lonely frustration for the life you deserved and have never been able to reach. The world you desire can be won. It exists.. it is real.. it is possible.. it's yours.

- Ayn Rand

Leap into the unknown

Between the mind digesting process, acceptance and the stubbornness of my own beliefs.
Between what I thought was right and what is not.
Between what I thought is true and what is.
Between dark chocolate and milk chocolate.
Between the meaning of maybe, yes, and no.
Between the taste of pepsi and cola.
That is how I feel.
Just that, being in between.

Show them who's boss!

I believe in my own power.
I am the boss of my emotions.
I recently realized that I have complete and utter control on how I make myself feel, and by that shape the mood I put myself in for rest of the day!
Sometimes I shut the world out. You know like my cranky-ness, bad mood, PMS phase & I only exist. I give in, I decide to let cranky-ness win the best of me and spend the day in bed with a bowl of ice cream or a jar of nutella and my favorite tv shows.
Not that I did not try to disappear. Believe me I've tried to sleep for a thousand years but that didn't work out well for me, turned out to be impossible..
But sometimes, I choose to ignore, look at the rosy and rainbow-ish invisible bright side. Make it all work out for me. I, can do that, for me because I deserve it.
In fact I think, there's no reason I can't have a life that I enjoy and love, even if I were in denial.
You shouldn't too. Life is, about you after all and how you make it work for YOU.
Believe in thyself.

Love, A!

Distance

Being there, too close, knowing that you just can't reach out for it, is the worst kind of suffering.

Feeling further than ever.

Where do they go from here?

Sometimes it is always better that a dreadful issue in my life or a not-as-tragic-as-it-sounds-out-loud-than-in-my-head kinda issue, falls under my "by choice" than "by fate" category. However, the fact is sometimes it makes me feel much better that I tried my very best but it didn't work out the way I hoped it would simply because it was out of my hands. A twist of fate. Like all the other species on the planet evolving to adapt, I accept what fate brought my way.

x

A little less than perfect.

If 'amazing' means struggle-free, sparkflying romantic perfection, I'm afraid they are seeking something that is not possible. But if it means honest, evolving imperfect relationships that are rooted in friendship, respect and trust, cultivated through time, struggle and patience. Then 'amazing' is a good relationship goal to aspire to.

- Dr Saliha Afridi.

Rage like fire.

Although I tend to do that a lot, I hate to say this but I hate when people bring up issues from the past in an argument! A sign of deep seated resentment. But sometimes, it is inevitable. You see, right in the middle of an argument, I surprise myself by bring the silliest most irrelevant things up. They say the more you love and care about someone, the more you pay attention to the little details that might have hurt your feelings. I was the type that needed to clear my head before the serious talk. But now, I tend to snap at people I care about for the silliest things. I make no sense anymore, not even to myself.

x

In a rose colored bubble no more.

With all the transition that was happening around me, somehow by the end of 2011, I became speechless. It all became larger than words. You know, like a caterpillar turning into a butterfly. Except the part that, unlike butterflies, the world around me wasn't all rosy and rainbow-ish. Life popped my little rose-colored bubble. I like to believe that it is slowly, very slowly, falling into place. I have faith that everything that has happened is for the best, my best. By Jan, 2012. I started seeing where it went wrong, where it got all better. So many things had changed in me and around me. Really, I never saw me here or even through this much. You see I started to believe in heartbreak after high expectations and too much hope, the power of eye cream, the cure of time, the magic of Argan Oil, the art of letting go and comfort food.

x