Today is a monumental event in the history of my recently dull life. After two years of flying as a free spirit, I decided to start dating again. I'm apathetic about the whole matter, mainly because I said yes to this guy on a spontaneous whim after ceaseless replies of "No, I think I'm busy that day". I'm just so used to saying no all the time that saying yes is deathly frightening!
As frightened silly as I am, I think it will be good for me. I have become too cynical in the views of my own personal love life. It's not like don't think it exists. I believe in love. I just refuse to fall in love.
I know it sounds ridiculous.
I refuse to fall in love for many reasons. Part of me is afraid to give myself entirely up and the other part of me is afraid to give too much and get nothing in return. I hear about all these horror stories about lost loves and break-ups that it gives me heart palpitations just thinking about it!
It's inevitable. Not every relationship is going to work out. Nothing is set in stone and I'll always be teetering on edge. I will lose someone. Someone will lose me and that's the way it goes.
When it all comes down to this phobia, I need to get rid of it. I need to relinquish it so that I can open my heart up once again. I've placed a padlock on it for so long, that I'm afraid this is going to be something will stick with me for the rest of my life.
Which is why I am going on a date tonight, with a boy I like as a person. As for whether or not I like him romantically? That's questionable.
One thing I know for sure is, I refuse to lead this guy on. It's just not my thing. I am going to be upfront and straightforward with my intentions.
Right now, I'm not looking for a boyfriend. I'm looking for someone who will reopen the blockade to my cobwebbed heart.
30 March 2010
26 March 2010
Never be afraid to dream.
Be afraid of never achieving it.
I wake up every morning, my chocolate brown eyes dreaming wide open. As my vision focuses on the light seeping from between the blinds, I think about the person I aspire to be years from now. I dream of living in an apartment devoid of furniture with a French window overlooking the rolling sea. I imagine sitting on the wooden ledge, gazing longing out of its threshold and down at the swarm of people buzzing with vibrant life. I can feel the soft caress of the breeze against my pallid face, a relief from the intense wave of heat that came from the early day sun. I imagine myself with a guitar in hand, my fingers carelessly strumming the strings with promise tingling at their tips. I dream about painting all day until my arms are burning with lactic acid, and reading all night until my eyes close like the front cover of the book in my hands...
And that's it. That's where my dream is left open-ended. Nothing about it indicates who I want to be years from now or the occupation I will pursue. None of it has images of my lover lying in bed beside or me running out of the front door in a rush of panic.
The truth is, I don't know what I want to be or who I want to be with, but I do know that I aspire to be happy. To live in the unceremonious days of my youth. What do I know of who I should be? I can make up a thousand identities and end up being the dreamer, the actress and the romantic rolled up into one body.
I will be realistic with myself. I can get lost in my dreams. So lost that reality hurts when it hits you on the side of the head. But I also know that dreaming is nothing if no action is put into it.
I am going to be happy.
May my life be a serendipitous collision of events and destiny, and lead me to the apartment overlooking the sea.
I wake up every morning, my chocolate brown eyes dreaming wide open. As my vision focuses on the light seeping from between the blinds, I think about the person I aspire to be years from now. I dream of living in an apartment devoid of furniture with a French window overlooking the rolling sea. I imagine sitting on the wooden ledge, gazing longing out of its threshold and down at the swarm of people buzzing with vibrant life. I can feel the soft caress of the breeze against my pallid face, a relief from the intense wave of heat that came from the early day sun. I imagine myself with a guitar in hand, my fingers carelessly strumming the strings with promise tingling at their tips. I dream about painting all day until my arms are burning with lactic acid, and reading all night until my eyes close like the front cover of the book in my hands...
And that's it. That's where my dream is left open-ended. Nothing about it indicates who I want to be years from now or the occupation I will pursue. None of it has images of my lover lying in bed beside or me running out of the front door in a rush of panic.
The truth is, I don't know what I want to be or who I want to be with, but I do know that I aspire to be happy. To live in the unceremonious days of my youth. What do I know of who I should be? I can make up a thousand identities and end up being the dreamer, the actress and the romantic rolled up into one body.
I will be realistic with myself. I can get lost in my dreams. So lost that reality hurts when it hits you on the side of the head. But I also know that dreaming is nothing if no action is put into it.
I am going to be happy.
May my life be a serendipitous collision of events and destiny, and lead me to the apartment overlooking the sea.
25 March 2010
Insomnia
I lay in bed, gazing into the cozy abyss as my thoughts travel from foreign end to foreign end. The deepest thoughts I lock away in the hidden parts of my mind, seep out from the crevices of my brain to taunt me and hinder me from achieving slumberous freedom. These thoughts are unkind and cut through the delicate facade I build to protect my sanity. Yet, uncovering these thoughts sends me plummeting into modesty and humility. I can fool anyone, but in the end the battle against myself has no victory because I cannot fool myself. I don't know if these are feelings of subconscious guilt for having not lived my life the way I dreamed... The unkind guilt for not being the best of who I can be.
10 March 2010
Fallen
Sleepless nights of finger driven words,
have caved in on my sense of reality,
awakening me from the dream I imposed on myself.
In those waking hours,
I lie in bed reveling in the truth,
I have failed to acknowledge without arguing.
I have fallen for him.
have caved in on my sense of reality,
awakening me from the dream I imposed on myself.
In those waking hours,
I lie in bed reveling in the truth,
I have failed to acknowledge without arguing.
I have fallen for him.
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