For The Nth Time

Here’s a reminder to take out the trash in your life. If it’s sitting at your face, lurking behind your back or rotting in a corner, I suggest you grab a bag to collect it. Then, throw I away. Surely, this is the best time for me to be talking about this after yet another mistake of letting my loneliness stall my progress. For a while, I have exhibited recovery from hoarding dirt. To speak in decrypted language, I have always sought for drama in my relationships - real, imposing and imaginary. This is on top my preference in a guy, which is another story. And for a time, I have been drama-free. This might have gotten me into relentless writing spree in the first place. However, just recently the growth has been delayed.

If there’s anything to have in life, it is a good discerning mind. A mind that can distinguish the cycle of abuse that you have subjected your heart and body for a period of time can be a good tool. And if our heart and body are just robot organs getting orders from our mind, then they must follow suit. But I am of defective brain. Mine believes what my gut tells me and I tell myself, “Why do I keep on believing my instinct if in the end it spins my head crazy?” I guess some people, like myself, are hard-wired to believe in the possibility of what might be based from their hearts of heart.

Again, this can be funny and at times adorable when you are young and I am still young. But for now, I must settle for the lesson. I have to be prompted constantly that certain ideologies like marrying a man carrying a broken wind is toxic, engaging in adulterous relationships is a dump and seeking for that “pavement that leads nowhere” is nothing but a waste.

For once, I want to invest in other things that I want. Writing is one of them. Though, I have limited ideas to talk about, hopefully these can be a part of a discussion and if I can dream bigger, a movement.