28.10.15

Life is too short

Here are the things I ought to remember and keep on going with for the rest of my life:


1) Read books.

NOT pdfs, ebooks, LCD screens, plasma screens, holograms, gamma rays etc. Real books. Printed books. Books I can fold the ends with. Books I can mark with my bookmark. Can't I love to read books? What is so wrong about wanting real physical books you can actually hold up and read while you're lying on your back? The most injury it could cause is just some busted lips.

2) Walk to my destinations

What is wrong about walking to where you want to go? Walking from my own department to the faculty's dean's office? Walking to the nearby grocery store? Walking to the train station? Tiring? Why should I be tired? I don't even exercise much. At least I could enjoy the view while I commute and not constantly rushing from one point to another. I mean...if you're afraid to be late, wake up early...right? Public transportation isn't always the blame for being late. You just catch them at the wrong time. Most of the time. Pfft.

3) Stop looking at my phone every minute

Why am I constantly looking at my phone? Sometimes I don't even have any emails or notes or notifications to read and I always manage to find something to waste my time on. Why can't I enjoy waiting for the train to reach my destination without having my eyes glued to my phone? Why can't I just cross the road without checking out Lana Del Rey's Instagram? It isn't that important. Are the photos of her shooting bazookas worth getting knocked down by a trailer while crossing the road. Hell no.

4) Read books. Not pictures.

Although pictures are worth a thousand words. Let's read words for a change. They tend to have more gist than photos. Can the photo of Justin Bieber kissing Barack Obama conclusively state that they are in a relationship? No. So let's just stop looking at photos and start reading.

5) Pick up a hobby that doesn't require you to lie down at one location without moving.

I wanna play skateboard. So why didn't I? Cause I was too absorbed 'watching' people skate on TV. Why can't I just do it myself? Right?


In the overly convenient world these days, we forget the finer things in life and the finer way of doing things cause we're always rushing for the things that reward us with short-lived satisfaction. Rather than downloading MP3s, why don't we make mixtapes? Rather than take any free rides available, why won't we walk? Or cycle? Or skate? We can do it if we want to...I think. Cause, life is too short.Why can't we want to enjoy every second of it by being aware of everything around us and relish in it?


NOTE: 
Less than 5 hours from writing this post, I was locked out of my lab with no money, bag or phone in my hand.... "(ToT)"

12.10.15

Purpose

Moday blues...Take 1.

I couldn't have picked a better day than Monday to discuss my dilemma when it comes to my own purpose in writing.

I do not write for female empowerment.

I do not write to advocate for world peace.

I do not write to beg for attention.

I do not write on the benefits of vegan diet.

Or yoga.

Or post gazillions of oh-so-beautiful photos of my fictional travels across the face of Mother Earth.

Or DIY facial scrubs.

I do not write to chronicle my life every few hours.

And I certainly do not write cause my daddy wrote.

It's a thing I just do naturally. Almost like breathing. Or reading signs. Or even teeth-grinding (Yes....I unconsciously do that.)

What's the purpose in my writing?

I do not have any. I write...just cause.

But I can't deny the sweetest feeling of having somebody who talks back at you here. Telling me what's on your mind or bashing your thoughts. It makes me feel like my thoughts are worth a discussion. So, yeah...I kind of like a little bit of attention. But no...that's not why I write. I can't say that I hear voices and stories in my heard without this coming back to bite me in the a** later, but yes....I do hear them. More like, see them playing out in my head. The imagination just running wild like carnival fishes you caught and release into the sea. They just swim off like the Devil is their little fish-tail.

I just have to do it.

Like writing on paper isn't enough.

Like finding rhythms in my short words isn't enough.

Spaces and time aren't enough to accommodate the constant visions in my head. Sometimes, I'm too afraid to read storybooks or fiction for fear of my own imagination. Tragic endings could sit with me for days and years perhaps.

Writing soothes me. And I hate the cliche sentence: I write cause it's the only way I can express myself.

That isn't true for me. I express myself in so many ways and writing is just one of it that I can safely say...I pass with flying monochrome colors. I write music. I play the guitar. I sing (shower heads and soap bars are my biggest fans). I attempt maths and pretend I'm good at them. Those are expressions.

What I'm trying to say is that....purposes do not always reveal themselves just because you say so. Example:

<br />
<blockquote>
I am a 19 year old serious vegan who loves travelling and cycling.</blockquote>
And it totally means you write and post everything about just that.

What if you just write? And never want to stop writing cause your brain wants you to just keep writing and documenting your snarky remarks and discuss every single thing you do not understand?

Is it bad?