Posted in letter, quotes

We not only have to choose our battles but also choose our weapons

Some days I feel like the world ask us to be so many things all at once. You gotta be doing something for yourself, for your family, for the environment, something for the greater good of society in general. I think society expects so much of us as if by the time we hit 20 we automatically blossom into adults already equipped with the wisdom we need to fight against racism, sexism, corruption, cultural appropriation, differences in religion, and other injustices our society currently face. As if we have all the time and energy to always radiate self love, be a good family person, be absolute professionals in our jobs, chase our passions, be financially stable, mentally healthy and as if we have the money to keep ourselves fit, go see the world, and seek higher education. We cannot keep stretching ourselves in all possible directions and expect ourselves to go forward anywhere.

If we´re being honest with ourselves, we know we can only ever achieve a small fraction of all the things we want to be. We need to stop pressuring ourselves to fight every war, we need to choose our battles and also learn to choose our weapons. You cannot keep picking up arrows or long range weapons if your aim is bad. This is why that statement is important, I don´t know why but somehow when we hear any problem in our society our first instinct is to be keyboard warriors, just exploding with opinion on our feeds, in a comments section but the thing is not all of us have the right words, not all of us have the right voice. Most of us don´t even have the right stories to be screaming the things we are so tirelessly screaming, we´re just taking from somebody else. And it doesn´t always have to be words on top of words, there is music, there is art, there are acts of compassion, there are multiple actions of support. We need to choose the one thing we know how to do best, the method by which we can make the most impact. We need to fight with the weapon we know how to yield best.

You cannot singlehandedly change the world. And you need not force yourself to fight too many fights all at once. Choose one thing, one simple thing you know you can honestly change. It doesn´t matter how small it feels to change somebody´s day or maybe just change somebody´s mind. Small things done with the right intention will always echo into bigger things, to bigger change.

At one point in my life I told myself I would be an Environmental Engineer, do my part to save the planet but turns out I don´t even have the money to get a graduate degree for that. I tried to be more active in doing volunteer work but honestly cannot find the time. The thing I am dedicating myself now to is helping others through their depression, anxiety and anger issues, because I learned by now one of the things I do best is listening, and really listening. It doesn´t matter if you can just give somebody 10 minutes, as long as you are honestly present and you don´t need to have the wisest words because honestly comfort is not always found in great advice. Comfort is found in words that let you know somebody is there for you, willing to carry your load with you, and willing to untangle the thoughts that frustrate you. This is also why I write, not to seek any form of validation but in hopes that it will give somebody comfort. I used to write for myself, but now I want to write hoping that the right words may reach the people who really need to hear them.

Posted in poem, poems, poetry

Stunted

There is a tree by the mountainside,

Standing tall always reaching for the sky,

Everyday trying to stretch itself more to the heavens,

Growing wider so it can dance with the wind,

Growing deeper just so it can reach higher,

Unmoving but content, never dreaming of somewhere else,

How could he when he had the earth?

When he was blessed with the rain and stars,

And all these were enough to fill his heart.

But fate was a cruel thing soon out of the blue,

People came cutting him down, body and branches too.

Cut down to pieces for a lot of strangers,

Carved and further cut to what they wanted him to be.

I hope that his pieces become the pillars that guards someboy´s home,

or the pages that holds the words to somebody´s heart,

Or the boat that take someone accross the sea,

Maybe even the table that unites a family.

I hope that his parts means so much to so many,

Because cutting him down meant him losing his skies,

Losing the place he loved aboved all else.

There´s a hundred different things we can think of

What we could have shaped him to be

But never crossed our mind to wonder what he wanted

If he could, He may have answered,

¨To keep growing little by little,

closer to the heavens. ¨

You can only take an ‘Asian Degree’

Most Asian parents, not all, would never tell their children to follow their passion, they would always tell their kids to go for a practical career. There is no money in passion, they would always say. If you’re Asian, chances are your parents want you to be either a lawyer, doctor, engineer or whatever your parents are doing. In my case, my mom and dad are accountants, so my sisters took up that profession as well. I on the other hand, wanted something else for myself, but with the limited choices I have I chose to take up Chemical Engineering. It was a tough course, tougher than it should have been as I do not exactly have passion and drive  for it, but I got by with perseverance and my weird fascination with Science and Math.

No one ever told me how heartbreaking it would be to lose sight of your dreams, and how hard it would be to rediscover what would ignite passion in you. 

It took me A LOT of interviews, and a lot of rejections to actually find something I would like as a first job. How many was  a lot? I’m guessing if you made a montage of all my interviews it would be four minutes long, and that would just be shots of me sitting down in front of an interviewer in different clothes. I have a full-time job now, although it isn’t in an industrial set up as most chemical engineers careers would be. I work in an office, it is far from the degree I took, but it is helping me figure out what I wanna do in the long run. I haven’t had specifics yet, but right now I’m aiming to pursue a career in management. It isn’t a goal that lights a flame in me yet, but a spark is a start.

I went on an interview two weeks ago, I actually told the interviewer all of the above. It is such a long answer for “Why are you pursuing something far from your degree?” He then followed up by asking, “if it wasn’t engineering, what would you have taken?”, to which I answered, if you ask the version of myself now I’d take a business course, if you asked my sixteen year old self, I’d say Literature. He smiled at me curiously and said “Literature, Chemical Engineering and Business, those three things couldn’t be more far apart.”

Posted in poem, poetry

I am Blue

I am blue, calm and cold

I cannot promise you bright and happy days

but always I  promise, when you feel defeated

weak and alone, you can count on my embrace.

I’m still and quiet when days are bright,

mad as the ocean when storms arrive,

and I am no daisy for your gray skies,

but always  the solace for your fears and cries.

And no I don’t hold nightmares,

though I dance with  the night’s darkness,

In truth I fill the sky with dreams, hopes and wishes,

and sing to the night endless lullabies for the restless.

I am blue, deep and dark

I cannot bleed sunlight for you

but always I promise

I will hold the stars out for you.

Posted in poetry

The last of the night

Don’t tell me to close my eyes when I’m still too far awake
Don’t tell me to go to sleep, my dreams aren’t yours to take
By blood I am your child but my life is not yours to make
Don’t call me weak when I falter, you don’t know how easily I break

Your passed up dreams they are gone and dead
They don’t live now while you lie in bed
Don’t push them now inside my head
They won’t come true by killing mine instead

And all my life I stared at starless skies
But because I dream the night remains stellar in my eyes
But to these dreams I’m forced to bid goodbyes
And I watch them escape me through silence and cries

To another’s yearning should I be wed
When loss of my passion is my greatest dread
Still you crown me with your broken world until I bled
With no dream left inside my head, a bullet takes its place instead.

Posted in Uncategorized

The dreamer speaks at night

I’m ordinary by day, I’m no Picasso at night

Nor can I translate into color the beauty of a starry night

Nor am I a classic, no Shakespeare, no Austen

Sometimes I find the words, most times I only know to hold a pen

In truth, I’ve no regret these dreams have come to wither

That I’m not to turn brilliant, as an artist or a writer

Greatness is a choice, that is what we are often told

But it is one that comes with chance and unyielding passion to hold

Call me a pessimist but I am not aiming for greatness

I’d rather be in a better pursuit of trying on kindness

 

I’ve come to the truth that when dreams die out there is no but or why

And that not everyone is stellar and not everything can shine

It matters not if my life is remembered in pages or written in the sky

I’m contented with my days and breath as long as I can call them mine

 

It is not acceptance that lies behind my eyes

All I’ve said above are pitiful reminders and lies

That I am no bearer of wisdom nor of beauty

Mundane, clock-ticking days are my reality

I’m no great poet and this isn’t poetry

In truth I’m a dreamer and this is a demonstration of insecurity

Posted in Uncategorized

Of truths and pessimistic remarks

If you can’t look great in pictures you can at least try to be funny

No large amount of food has ever solved boredom

The world is kind to some people who really do not deserve it

Some people aren’t born with beauty, at times they can mask it out with good hair and good clothes but not all the world can be fooled.  A genuine smile will do better to outshine a face of insecurity.

The sad moments in our lives are repeated wounds that cuts us deep into tears but as these circumstances repeat, you’ll notice how dry your eyes can get each time.

There are things you know you must do to be happy but are not capable of doing them in the time that you have.

Learn to stop living in pretence, not all wants can be willed into reality, not all dreams rise as truth.

A thousand nights can belong to one dream, but all their days are stuck in a varying reality

It’s hard to find the strength left in a good man when all his kind deeds are met with punishing rewards

At this age we face no wars , no revolutions and  all that is left for us is to find ourselves

Nobody can stop you from wanting, but however long and however strong the want, it does not make it necessarily true in our lives

Memories can be a playful thing. At times of dreams and hopeful days I remember them pastel-coloured joy but in days of lonesome fears I recall them dark and monotone .Each time you look back at them a different shade is on the rise.

Some of the stars I wish upon are long dead and people often find that as discouraging, I actually can’t see why this is a bad thing because I see it as beautiful, for something to still hold light above others even when they are long gone. 

I do not find myself wishing for an everlasting love, because as I see it neither I nor my love would last on earth forever anyway. I do wish for an enduring love instead, a love that grows old as I do, something as real and dynamic as living.

Posted in Uncategorized

Realities and Bizarre Nothings

Something blue:

The waves of the ocean when the day is good

Something sweet:

Holding hands amidst the busy streets

Something soft:

My heart when I see children

Something wicked:

Some girls and all that they can hide under a dress

Something hard:

Admitting you are wrong when you are used to being right

Something overwhelming:

The air I breathe, after sinking in sadness

Something lost:

The dreams I had as a child

Something found:

The person I want to be, despite the loss of my dreams

Something red:

The sky and the sun as it sets at the end of my horizon

Something borrowed:

The hearts and thoughts of the characters I watch and read

Something full:

My mouth when it finds the right words

Something empty:

Nothing. Somehow, right now, all things are filled.

Something new:

The thought that life is a never-ending series of photographs holding moments pained, dull and dear

Something beautiful:

The stars, the heavens and all that they can imply

Posted in Uncategorized

To the Free Mind: Journal entries of a restless soul

September 5, 2013

I’m not a waste of talent,

My life is just a wasteland of dreams,

I’ve sunken too deep unto the fallen dreams of many

I no longer recognize which dreams are my own.

 

September 12, 2013

These days, everybody wants to live on the edge. Pretty soon we’ll be spilling out of the corners of the earth.

 

September 15, 2013

Live with no other goal than to find love. Settle with decisions made with impatience. Avoid the realities of hard work and struggle. Believe that the power of romance can fix your life laid waste for you.

Let your future children carry the weight of your troubles. And we still wonder how our lives have come to damage.

 

September 17, 2013

Some people dream of falling stars, a few pieces of heaven falling just for them. I’d rather dream of flight and my endless quest to be among the sky.

 

September 21, 2013

Write something wonderful:

Remarkable strangers and unusual encounters.

 

September 22, 2013

Some people try hard to live with quirks and eccentricity, acting like they are misfits and outcasts, all for the praise of being different, all in the name of becoming a standout. Pretty soon it becomes the norm. Yet in their efforts they still don’t understand how it feels to live in the light of being strange.

 

October 1, 2013

Do not rush for today the things that are meant for tomorrow

 

October 4, 2013

Today’s breakfast:

Talks about vanity and self-righteousness, and my efforts to drown those words with music.

 

October 5, 2013

Another round of self-published drama waiting for sympathy and attention.

 

October 12, 2013

In the far end of my country people are struggling

because their flag and their prayers are at war

Yet the rest of the nation stays caught up

On political love affairs.

 

October 16,2013

Sometimes our generation rots down to

Self-proclaimed, self-centered fools.

We can blame it on the generations before us

But this is our time, this is our doing.

 

October 20, 2013

I think I am one of those girls who are not meant to wear skirts

And that’s ok, I’d rather wrap myself up with my thoughts and my virtues.

 

October 24, 2013

Time. Space. Exhaust.

 

October 26, 2013

I’m not ready for daylight to break. I am not afraid of tomorrow, I just can’t let go of the stars.

 

October 30, 2013

I admit to surrounding myself with negativity and complaint but all the world is not a waste.

I still see a few good men write about wonder; my hope does not lie lost