Chasing the Writing Bug

There are numerous opportunities for me to start bringing life to the unimaginable stories out of my head. But most of the time I slack off instead. Then getting annoyed at the end because of wasted hours.

Frustrations

Writing has always been one of my toughest frustrations (next to singing). I’m aware of how random I could be throughout the day, so I’ve got to make use of my productive hours well. However, the actual writing tends to come rarely these days. 😥 This is due to my lack of a fixed writing habit. I try to be consistent with my schedule, but distractions greet me which I embrace so openly.

Bothersome distractions

Online sites are the worst!

Continue reading

Getting Stuck and Moving On

There are some days when I feel really stuck in life, and that it’s difficult to ever get back on my feet. Challenges and worries overpower hope and motivation. Trying so hard to return to my most productive state is a feat that is closer to impossible. This is me when negativity takes over…

However, I have faith that there’s a purpose for everything. My current situation will probably make sense in another day, week, or even a year. Those moments are the most surprising ones which freely gives off my unwavering smile. A satisfaction of getting through the storm and moving forward. How I wish I could see myself at that moment again. I am still waiting. Pinching, punching, forcing myself to continue moving forward. At times, I look back. Not for regret but for inspiration. Changes that happened throughout the years before I came to my current position. Those make me grateful for everything.

Now, I have to continue. Press every button and find the green one. Gently guide my fingers and toes. Small steps. Little by little.

Breaking Free of My Writing Paralysis

20150518_picI haven’t written much for weeks. July is almost done, but I’m still floating across the flight of my mind. This is the phase I consider as my writing paralysis. A state of writing depression when nothing seems to “inspire” me to pick up my pen and start writing. Maybe it’s the weather or my personal predicaments right now, or worst my laziness.

I hate the days when I feel too lazy to write. Instead of working on a poem or a story, I would simply grab a book to kill the time. Even though I have dozens of reminders (notes) about different storylines that I want to work on, I still procrastinate. Escaping the responsibility of writing, and simply hoping for other distractions/chores/excuses to come by. This habit got me paralyzed for so long, that I couldn’t even finish writing a two stanza poem. 😥

However, over the weekend, I was able to slowly go back on track with writing assignments and free writing in front the TV set. This new habit gradually made me grew familiar with the distractions around and work my way out of those.

For now, I am still writing Exploring Limbo. Luckily, I’m able to work until the second part of the collection. 😀

Then for the meantime, I’m continuously focusing my writing in my hub. There are multiple informative articles that I’ve done which helped in my steps to writing again. Hope these will be a good start to write more.

Books for an Old Soul

Personally, there is a different feeling whenever I flip through pages of books. The new and the old ones, I tend to be more attracted to the latter. The smell of old, thrift shop books are intoxicating, and yes it’s strange but I sniff through some of the pages. It’s just me 😉

Every reader has his/her own style to pick. I think the uniqueness of the writers (and their stories) is also searching for the right, equally distinct reader. It’s like whenever you try to find that perfect spot to spend your night, that’s how you choose your book. Something to comfort or to accompany you through sleepless nights or sweet daydreams.

Continue reading

Lucky Star

20150404_01

A lucky star for one night
Can brighten even the saddest child
Across the room at one corner there
A heart pounding, praying well

Though time flies by quickly
The dream made a fool of the innocent
Cruelty faced the lucky star
It’s a fake, cried the child

Wish and hope to a distant light
Won’t help an inch in my despair
Foolish thought shouldn’t linger long
I shall tell my own to grow fast as well

Do not believe a lucky star?
Stand and make your own path
Worries and dark corners collide
To someone playing at the light coming from the sky

Dreams, Failures, and Everything In Between

Isn’t it funny that day by day nothing changes, but when you look back everything is different…” – C.S. Lewis

Being in my early twenties is difficult to imagine myself worrying much about the future. This stage in my life seems to be a carefree one. I guess, I never got to that level. Every day there’s more and more of the reflection that I have actually skipped some or jumped from being young to adulthood. There was no teenage life in between. It was a clear cut line from young to adult self. Many of life’s circumstances and challenges made me grow up a lot faster than my peers.

Now, it seems much clearer that it truly was a jump (or maybe the genes).

Continue reading

Wondering

Walking along the road, seeing less and less of the flowers and trees that I grew up with, seeing new faces, and finding none of the old ones. I feel that I am in a very different place.

I know that I am not so much of a social person. I enjoy the quiet and peaceful company of books at home. Also, with some hours of movies on the side. I learn to appreciate life through those experiences. Now, I’m trying to find another sense of peace with the people around me. I’m slowly stepping out of my comfort zone and realizing my dreams into reality.

Opening up to people with gusto is like standing naked in a showroom- uncomfortable, scary, dangerous. Those are the thoughts that sometimes bother me whenever I try to talk with people. I think it’s an ordinary experience for people to feel fear every now and then. I appreciate those times. Those are the challenges that can make me a better person. However, the more I move, the more random my thoughts come. The more mistakes I can make. I hope that the next time my thoughts bombard my head, those bleed to paper and words come to save me.