SLOW DOWN THE TIME

Two weeks has already passed since I ended my longest hiatus (40 days) from social media. Now that I’m back on the regular rounds of status, 3 x 3 grid, and more or less 140 characters to express my thoughts, I found myself thinking back to the time when I shut it off.

During the first week of my absence, people and fried were wondering, Why did you disconnect? Are you deactivated? Why the need? Well, because I was fed up. I was overwhelmed with all these things that a screen can present for hours without an end. The internet became a labyrinth that I didn’t know how to get out off. It was eating me up, and I was already beginning to feel lost. On the deeper side of things, I found myself questioning my own posts; do the things I post online still reflect a real version of me? Is there still authenticity? I might just be a bad case of being an over thinker, but still it bothered me.

THE LONGEST RIDE

The last time I read a Nicholas Sparks novel was during my freshman year in college. The university’s library has always been refuge for me, but when I discovered that it also housed a variety of fiction books it became a little bit of heaven. I borrowed books every week and most of it were Sparks’ novels.

It was a two-week marathon of love stories with heartbreaking tragedies; eventually this plot grew familiar that I can already guess who would die or be involved in an accident. The love scenes got too descriptive for me, so after a month I stopped reading his novels. It turned around last week because of much-needed break from all the deep and serious stuff that I’ve been reading. When a colleague/friend offered me to lend her copy of The Longest Ride, I accepted with the thought that giddy or kilig novels can be a good break.

AROUND THE WEB | VOL. 1

It's a millenial's battle - to keep on doing what you need or to leave it all behind and to pursue the things that you love. One of my high school friends once said that pursuing your passion is an entitlement -- something that only the privileged ones can do (those who have unlimited funds to supply their dreams or those people who don't need to worry about grinding a 9-5 job). There are moments of frustration when I am thisclose to believing that his statement is true, but there's a huge part in me that won't give in to this idea. It seems that saying yes to the fact dream jobs are achieved only by the privileged is like killing my own dreams. So, at this season of my life I beg to disagree.

Day Job vs. Dream Job, is one better than the other? The Great Discontent's newsletter came right on time in my inbox as I was pondering these thoughts. I could babble on this for so long, but I know that I belong to the category of people who hustles in order to figure out the right balance of things. Read instead the round up of the online content shared by TGD on their weekend newsletter and other related podcast and blog posts found along the way:

COFFEE HOUSE

It's one of life's comfort; there are times when I find myself sitting there, looking around, and feeling that sometimes this is a better refuge than our own home.

My last year in high school taught me how to drink coffee, but it was four years spent in college that made me love this drink. It became a need for a sleepy head like me to the point that I can now classify 3-in-1 coffees based on its caffeine effect. It might be such a nerdy claim but my body was able to memorize the kind of coffee it needs to pull out an all-nighter, or last until my twelve noon classes, or even survive for another 24 hours.  It even became a substitute for water during the last stretch of our thesis (yes, coffee dependent at its best). It became a constant companion until now that I am working.

With the rise of third wave coffee, there's just a lot of places to drink, to visit, and to hang out in every corner. Back then we had to wait to be seated on a jam packed place. Can I just say that student nowadays have more choices when it comes to coffee shops? It's everywhere in the metro and my list of must-go places keeps on getting longer. For a coffee lover, this is such a treat.

I try to tick one coffee shop each month, whether it be with friends or for some quiet time alone. Sometimes I come for the coffee, sometimes I come in because of the place. No matter, the warmth it offers me never changes. It's a place to be -- somewhere you'll need not an excuse to be alone.

IN MY OWN WORDS

Words.

I can't pinpoint when I started to become drawn to them, but I know that these things we call nouns, verbs, adjectives and more -- I've truly learn to love them. Maybe it's because of my exposure to poems, or reading posts from newly discovered bloggers, or the simple act of practicing the old art of calligraphy and lettering has made them more special.

I've been on a reading spree lately; from blogs, newspapers, magazine, and books. I must say that if we are what we eat, we also become what we read. So I devoured each page, as if eating every word can make me good in letting the ink rush through paper. I can't help but admire people whose words seamlessly form into something wonderful. The gift of expressing myself through the written language can be quite evasive.

I stalled writing this entry because facing the blank page has become a bit more difficult for me. I am overcome with this thinking that everything will come sounding like a news report or a research paper. But I still want to improve. To break free from my mold. Not out of insecurity, but out of the desire to write something worth reading. And with that thought sprout another desire -- to find my own voice. To not be a mere echo of someone else. To have my own words instead of borrowed ones.

It might seem like a blabber for now, but I am hoping that in time these words of mine will solidify itself on these blank pages.

THE 100 DAY PROJECT: DEVO X TYPO

“A hundred days! I can recall the questions that raced through my mind before I decided to jump in: can I handle it? Will I push through when my schedule is jammed? Will I show up everyday, even when it hurts? – especially when it hurts?” -Elle Luna

 

These exact thoughts were running in my mind as I joined the challenge. It was a last minute decision mixed with excitement, fear, doubt, and a whole lot of mixed emotions. Knowing myself, I am aware that I tend to lose my sense of excitement in doing creative things or maybe anything in particular that requires my attention everyday. It makes me think if it will make me a slacker artist in the future. But this weakness was actually the reason why I jumped into the challenge – to develop discipline in handling my creativity. Art takes time and practice and patience. Excitement may die but I hope that my desire to improve in this craft won’t.

STORIES, FOR THE TIME BEING

I finally got around the task of cleaning my first Tumblr blog and was successfully able to move in another address. It was an exhausting thing to do, even if there were only 500+ posts, hiding them one by one took its toll in my eyes. I was thisclose to deleting them all just so I can make the process quicker, but of course some of them are precious memories of my college life that I can't bear to part with. Blame it on my sentimentality, but I just had to keep them even if they are now for my eyes only.

Looking back, I realized how much I struggled back then. It was only a personal blog filled with day to day events of a normal college girl, but at the back of my mind I wanted so much more. Most of the people I followed were cool "It" girls (if you've been in Tumblr for so long you know what I mean, and you know who they are), and some dashing dudes who seem to have it all; Name it: followers, sponsors, free passes to events, and free travel! Wow, who wouldn't want that? Because I must admit that I really did.  So I tried to achieve this same kind of status that they have and made sure that every post is well thought-of, a quote that every one can relate to, artistically curated photoset, and everything else in between. I wanted traffic, I wanted followers, I wanted to be recognized for whatever I put out there.

Only now did I realize that I wanted my blog to click so much, for that little space in the world wide web to matter, without knowing that I wasn't creating the sound that I want, but I have become a mere noise. Seriously, I didn't know that I was so frustrated for that kind of blogging career. It was like that moment when Ariel exchanged her voice for a pair of feet. Apologies for going on sappy Disney mode here, but there's no denying that I wanted to be a part of that "cool" blogging world. But three paragraphs after, and more than four years of staying in Tumblr that didn't happen.

So what's the point? Haha! I guess being inactive from that platform for almost a year did me good. I was truly reminded this time of why I started to blog, why I want to put my thoughts out there, why I want to post pictures or create typography, why I want to improve my writing skills -- and that is to share stories. To not desire too much superficial things but to actually connect with people, to read their blogs, to find a common ground, and eventually make one less stranger out of them. For years I've been trying so hard without knowing that the only thing I need is to share my story, to go down deeper in my heart and have the guts to actually put it out for other people to see.

After testing the waters for so long, this is the first time that I've felt excited that I have little space for my thoughts once again. I finally understood what take it slowly and be yourself truly means. I don't know how long I will continue blogging or how long I can keep this active; new questions will present itself as the days progress, but for now all we have are stories for the time being.