One Take

We are often asked whether we would accept if given a chance to turn back time, not that it is possible, but you know, just for the heck of it. Surprisingly, all the others would not bow to it. Whenever I read or hear such response, it makes me wonder because I am one of those few who would willingly agree to wind back in many points in time.

I would take all chances to ace that exam, to dump that guy, to accept that opportunity, to say that thing hanging on my mind, or to shut my mouth. I would erase everything undesirable and take in all the enviable. I would arrange all things to my advantage, and for the triumph of my life plans.

Did their lives turn out to be so perfect that they did not need to change a single thing? Or did their lives come out as how they wanted them to be even if they did not always do the right things?

Then, I guess I'm damned...and doomed.

I always wish life can be more like a movie. You know, because you can always go back to every scene and cut the unwanted, up to how many repetition is needed until a scene becomes flawless so it won’t do harm to the movie as a whole.

In real life, we can’t do that. The times passed can never be reclaimed. Sadly, I am living no movie, and I am living the real life instead. I have to make every scene clean and perfect the first time, or watch it passes right in from of me, faulty and flawed.

In real life, there’s no extra roll of film; we should learn the script, by heart.

Biggie Deal

Weight has been really an unbelievably big deal for women. Blame it on the media; media is such a mind control.

I used to not give a shit to my weight. I did not care whether my uniforms would need repairs and adjustments due to some inches picked. I did not care whether people could see my flab shaking for my slightest moves like waving an arm or even lifting it. But now, I’m afraid I’m one of those women who are left with no other choice but resist the curse of being fat.

I still don’t want to be a Nicole Richie or an Olsen twin, but when family and friends start picking on my weight, I just get annoyed. Sometimes, even people I hardly know would detect that I have really reaped some pounds. How much more annoying is that?

I was miserable, that no Tyra Banks could make me feel pleased about myself, and my weight for the most part. So, I would start depriving and starving myself from the moment I wake up. Though, at the end of the day, I would dine all I want without caring whether I would gain twice as much.

Now, it gets me thinking. Do I feel miserable because I’m fat, or because people say I’m fat?

Speechless

Finding myself in a situation wherein I am asked of what I think and feel about an issue and not giving any satisfactory answer is not funny anymore.

I know I do not own a superb and beautiful mind. But, there are a lot of things that keep on running, circling it, all the time. I always have my very own arguments about almost every issue. Then, when I am already asked, I cannot seem to articulate them. That’s why I end up emerging as one of those apathetic and spoon-fed people.

I cannot seem to give straight answers to people, yet it doesn’t mean that I am thoughtless and uninterested. I think I lack the skill of thought organization, thus I suck at word manipulation.

I need practice, a lot of it. Tsss.

Stuck on You

In writing, when you start knowing and learning more, rereading your past pieces makes you feel like you are no more than a mediocre. You suddenly want to scrap them off and ask yourself why you have kept such poorly-written shits.

This is how I feel about this blog for the past weeks. I have long been thinking of posting an entry once again but scanning through my previous posts, I hear myself say, ‘I could have written this better.’, and, ‘I should have used this word than that one.’, and, ‘I can’t believe my mind had smoked out such idiotic and shallow thoughts’. Once again, I considered discarding this blog and start a bare and fresh one.

Good thing, I changed my mind. I am keeping this blog, not just to save myself from shame, though shame is such a heavy word. It’s also nice seeing me improve my writing, and even my thinking, overtime. Plus, I believe that learning how to write is never-ending. So instead of casting off old blogs and putting together new ones every now and then, I will just maintain this and laugh at myself every time I figure out how crappy my writings were.