Indelible Ink

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Elections 2016

Today, I voted.
All the suitors have been considered.
I still believe that none of them were right.
But, it came down to whoever was the lesser evil.
I am a rock star citizen of this third-world country.

A series of un/fortunate events

Most of the time, I’m staring at the wall. Sometimes thinking, sometimes not but still staring and zoning out. It gives a calming effect and a peace of mind somehow because the wall’s blankness. I hope life’s problems can be solved by just staring at a blank wall.

I don’t like being compared to anyone else. It’s not healthy for me because even when the intentions are good, I can’t help but see all sides – the good and the bad – and it somehow triggers a self-pity phase and activates my overthinking brain.

I stopped freelancing a few months ago so I have a lot of times to stare at walls. I just want to be my own boss so I did not get a day job at a production house. I’m thinking of starting a business of my own. I don’t know how to do it but I am sure I will do it. I need to do it. I must do it. I can do it.

Being an introvert has its strengths and weaknesses and I am still discovering new things that will help me survive this extrovert-driven world. I am also rediscovering traits that was buried in my subconsciousness.

2015 is ending. I am hoping for a good year to come.

Your life is a …

Your life is a gift from the Creator. Your gift back to the Creator is what you do with your life. – Billy Mills

There’s always something to be thankful for. And it includes birthdays. Well, happy birthday Charmaine! Happy birthday.

Words from the Lungs of an Asthmatic

I can breathe. I haven’t forgotten how to breathe yet.
I haven’t forgotten to live. My heart is still beating, my brain is still thinking. At least I know that I’m alive.
But they don’t know that I am. Who are they?
Thoughts keep on ringing this mind,
building its own fort inside my head.
Maybe there are little beings whispering something in my brain which this brain whispers this something in my ear.
“You are alive.” Its constant reminder that my lungs are
still functioning, air still able to pass through this system.
Air still supplies air to those little creatures and the cycle of whispering repeats again.
But they don’t know I’m alive. Or maybe they do, they do.
Who are they? Them.
These whisperers, I think they’re called emotions or maybe I’m wrong.
They whisper something to my brain, and other thing to the fragile heart, then these two system clashes affecting my lungs making me unable to breathe.
“You are still alive,” it whispers again.
I thought these would be the last words coming out from the lungs of an asthmatic.

………………………………………….

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