What hope entails

My life, as of now, cannot bear the situation I am currently in. As much as I'd like to think there is always light at the end of the tunnel, my mind just keeps wondering why can't I just have a flash light in hand instead of waiting for that light at the end?

The recent domino effect seem to make my hope of ever getting out, deteriorate. But who am I to complain about this? I am done complaining really. I am sick of hearing myself. Hearing myself tell others. But for some reason, I just have the urge to tell it to people. Is it for pity's sake? Or am I yearning for some more encouragement other than what I am trying to create deep down?

I am a part-timer. And due to current transition of the company, my eligibility was-to say the least- undermined by that fact my accrued hours are not enough to benefit from their benefits.

Now, I am desperate

Adulthood

When I was a little girl, the idea of growing up has always been scary. It's like those scary stories people tell you so you wouldn't do a certain thing. The first I was told to grow up was when my cousin hit me with a belt. My other cousin and I decided to play at a neighbor's house without telling anyone. So, when we got home, we were scolded and got a beating. Not a bad beating. Just a few smacks on the butt. My cousin was first then I came second. And as that belt landed on my behind, my older cousin said, " Ikaw yung mas matanda! Kaya dapat alam mong mali!" ("You're the older one! You should know better!")

That was the first.

The second one came when I hit adolescence, things changed. I was older than most of the children in my neighborhood, my street. And every 4:00pm, we would always play outside. When puberty hit, I can't deny that compared to my playmates, I was really old. Therefore my older cousin said something again. She goes, "Matanda ka na. Hindi ka na pwedeing makipaglaro sa mga mas bata" ("I'm old already. I can't just play with younger kids") I was told I can no longer play with younger children, therefore, I stopped. For the rest of my life, I stayed indoors. Until, I moved here in the US.

And of course being told to grow up did not stop in the Philippines. Adulthood slapped me across the face just as I crossed the seas to here. I was 15 and having a driver's license and working greeted me with welcoming arms as I shunned the idea. But, constantly hearing about it made me give in. Once again, I was told to do things. I was told to grow up.

Clearly, there are milestones developing definitions of adulthood. For some, it's marriage. Others, it's having a child. Some may even consider earning you're own money while age is considered to be the ultimate evidence for growing up. But then, it's just a number.

For me. Shoot. I don't know. I got the job, the bills to pay, the degree, amongst other things, to get me into that definition of what is being an adult. Well, part of that definition. But I guess, from what I heard, it's beyond all of those things. Therefore, I am still not an adult.

And I am so confuse. I thought I was.

Honey bees and stinging men ears

I am guilty as charge.

As a person who uses "honey" or "sweetie" or even "baby" with no malice or the intent of using these grandma phrases to lure an opposite sex for attraction, I have yet to learn to draw the line when addressing these sweet nothings to a guy. Lately, I have come in contact with situations involving these sweet callings toward guys coming from some of my friends. Let me elaborate:

Person A addresses on of these sweet nothings to person C through online messages. Thinking it was probably platonic and okay to "return" the calling, person C refers to person A 'sexy' after replying back. Now, person A was baffled and cannot understand why Person C called her 'sexy', therefore constructing involuntary analysis of what the word 'sexy' means to him and to her.

Which brings me to the point: do women have the free card to say sweet things to men, not having the intentions of flirting and cavorting with them?

Being a woman is complex.

I agree. Definitely complex, but never complicated. I believe that our sweet personalities are driven through actions and words but be aware there is a rather thin line between these platonic, nice, sweet gestures and just plain flirting. Let me break it down:

> A touch of an arm has nothing to do with us liking you. It's about comfort.

Now, caressing an arm has everything to do with liking you. Prolonged caresses that travel from part to another is the major sign for wanting you.

> A friendly smile or quick glances do not indicate an interest of knowing you more. It's all friendly.

A smile with a smirk and playful gazes- long playful gazes- gives a green light to approach her-never the other way around.

> Using 'hun', 'sweetie' or other phrases exchanged between a grandmother and her grandson is nothing more but a friendly calling. Instead of 'dude' or 'man', it's a more feminine way to address a fellow opposite comrade. We're just being sweet. That is all.

> Putting an arm around your arm is just a platonic human contact. Just like touching your arm, it's nothing more but be cuddly and have something to lean on. Because, I'm telling you, we like to cuddle.

So there. I know i'm leaving some things that need clarification...please leave a comment and let me know what you think :)

These are a few of my not-so-favorite things to do nowadays...

So, as i embark on this great journey called real life, my list of things to do-either must or not so much- is growing. Every minute. Every second. of every hour. Now, i am not sure where to start. First off, now that I am done (entirely?) with school, I have to start paying the loans...step one: find someone to consolidate my loans in a considerable rate. Step two: pay it!!!! Step three: pay until there is no more!!!! therefore, time frame of payment is unknown.

But then, in order for me to pay, a job must entail. I am currently (still) in the position of a part time job and considering that the company recently took a deduction, well, is not going well. So, the steps on loan payments are not really in the process of getting done. And then, there's the home projects. the personal projects. and the job hunting.

I must say, for someone who just got out of school thinking that she'll be relieved from work...is totally incorrect. Oh, and of course, to add to the list, the incessant notion of being healthy aka slender and not flabby. That would be my list. Seem short but full of very important things...

Don't get me wrong. I live for listing things. It keeps me motivated and productive. But lately, I just cannot embrace the idea that my list has things that are so....grown-uppy...lol. before it was just simple things listed- clean room, do dishes, laundry. Now, although short and straight to the point, the list has complex things that has sub-list under the things listed already! I mean, like, finding a good rate for consolidation...you call people...decide...keep calling...fill up a form...call....start paying....worry about paying....etc. And that's only under, finding a loan consolidator! There are so many things attach to it! The list just seem to go on forever. And don't get me started with combining all these necessities to my goals. My life goals consist of writing a book and publishing it...and then there's designing clothes. Am I suffocating so much with what's happening that I taking whatever I can to give me air to breathe?!?

Wow, have I gone mad? Or am I completely dreading reality?

$-1.23 please

This may form as greed or pride, but when I was making more money than I anticipated, it was a relief to look at my bank account and see that I am not on the negative side. However, it is different nowadays, that the idea of looking at my bank account is like a horror movie in which, everytime I sign in waiting, I get nervous and anxious. And then when I do see my balance I have The Screamers face. Why must we have to be so involve with money?

Maybe it was my own fault. Spending unnecessary things...but then again, I was just paying for my bills....

The concept of acquiring money faster and, to say least, easier, is very very tempting. Let's see, I could lose weight and be a stripper...or a call girl...or maybe deal drugs...It's interesting that these "immoral" employment tie in to the fast and easy money plan...Why is it harder to gain money leading a legal life?

I read this article last week about a man who gave up money. And he's alive. Sure, he may have not showered for a long time, and lives in a cave...but the food he gets from family and friends were obviously bought with money, therefore, is it wrong for me to say that what he is doing is hypocrisy? Surely, he can pick a fruit from a tree, eat it and then plant it and live off from that farming technique we have had the ability to know. And with water, there must be some filtration system he could generate out of organic materials and use that to have clean water.

Come to think of it, he should be naked or wearing something made out of nature....then, I could attest that he is no longer living with money....

These are just ramblings caused from a negative dollar and twenty-three cents.

The Time Traveler's Wife aka Author is teaching at Columbia

It's interesting how things just connect. This passed weekend, I just found out how one of my close friends are somewhat connected to Santi's friend's ex. Of course, I started remembering my connections to people, resulting to a realization that the world is indeed small. And then last night, as I started reading the book, The Time Traveler's Wife (Thanks, Walter!), I found out that the author is teaching at Columbia. My Columbia College. Funny. I mean, there are really no big connections there, but it's somewhat significant. This month, I have been questioning whether or not I made the right choice about choosing Columbia. It's too late now, I understand that, but it's just something that I have been thinking over and over again. My recent situation really did create doubts, on myself, on people, on everything. But I guess I really have to accept that the economy is mostly to blame. Like before though, I won't let it. I just won't.

And then, I generated this what if: What if I could travel back in time? Not for the purpose of righting what was "wrong", but making it better. Would the outcome still be the same?

Aside from the book, I have been connected to other time traveling themes. I just finished watching Doctor Who- a syndicated show in the UK where a man or alien (Time Lord), only known as the Doctor, travels in time never be mistaken for traveling to parallel universe.

What if we do have the capability to travel in time? Would people abuse it? The obvious precedes itself, but what if time traveling has been part of our lives, like air, and therefore taking advantage of it is unlikely?

And the question arises again: What now?

My summer class is almost over. And although I had a hard time giving the best I've got, I am contemplating whether or not I should dive again to class schedules, homework, projects and the likes next semester. It seems like school is the only thing I can control at the moment, and without it, I'm a headless chicken- always scrambling to find things to do that are "more" interesting. But then again, I don't want to be a professional student, because even though it lets you acquire more knowledge, it leaves you begging the government for money to pay to learn. Why can't the government pay US to learn??? Instead, we pay the U.S. to learn things that we can generally learn ourselves if we are motivated enough. Let's face it, not all of us have that drive. The drive to learn more and more. To do things in our own. Shoot. I even have a hard time manipulating my mind to do things out of self-encouragement. I know there are more things to learn in life than in books, but for some reason, books are more consolidated than life. I mean, it has a variety of genres: comedy, romantic-comedy, drama, action/adventure, horror- all of which are inspired by life itself.

A turn of a page could hold an idea, a knowledge, its own inspiration, immediately being stored in one's mind until it's never used and replaced by another. We all learned in psychology that a child's mind has more space for memories and as we grow older, that space becomes more limited and to say the least, we become forgetful. However, we tend to remember things, memories that seem irrelevant but it holds some kind of significance in our lives. The brain itself is as complex as life. The brain is our very own library, broad yet specific.

Since we always use the phrase "another chapter begins" or "ends"- depends really on the context- it is appropriate to consider our brain as the library of our body. But it's not as consolidated as a book published, bound and read. So, I guess we're back in square one?

If my life is a book, it has to be an encyclopedia. Not because I have all the knowledge, but, I'm only limited to certain ideas/things/etc. I only know one thing at a time. And don't even get me started with what alphabet letter do I manage. I'm an encyclopedia who is trained to do one thing and one thing only: succeed. There is nothing wrong with that. I mean, I still do possess some interesting facts, but my spontaneity is limited. I'll always long to be an adventure book, but I'm not gutsy enough. Come on, I categorize myself by letters, that's not really the adventurous type.

I would say my cousin is one. She's not the Choose-Your-Own-Adventure deal, but she'll be more The Odyssey adventure, or maybe more political like a biography of a famous person or an influential person. My friends would be a diverse category. My friend Kat would be the independent girl book turned chick-flick. Alycia would be the romance novels...Sarah would be a romantic- comedy series, coming of age tale as I put it. Arcelia would be a How-to book. My mom would be the Bible. So is my dad. Well, it's a tie between, a book of religious songs or fashion books :) Santiago would definitely be a gamer's world book. But then again, who am I to judge a book by its cover?

Regressing heart

You know when your heart is empty when it beats and there's an echo. Not just an ordinary echo, but at echo wallowing in the depths of being numb. My impulse to leave so suddenly from the park was something that I had to do. But yet, I saw from my niece's eyes that she was a tad bit disappointed regardless if she was playing with her friends. My emotions just took over, I cannot stop the tears from rolling. The fact that I cannot even rely on my friends to hang out, to experience an outdoor movie with me. I understand each had plans, but I think I gave them enough time to at least let me know that they could make it. But then I ask myself, is it really right to be so upset with them because of their actions? Or my sadness and loneliness created these outburst of emotions, which until now, I cannot hold in?

I miss him dearly.

The thoughts just echoed from my empty heart shell. The idea of not being with him scares me and me realize that I cannot stand not being with him. And yet I have to practice living independently, because, let's be honest, nothing last forever.

Then again, my loneliness is a sheer explanation that my love for him is so much greater. And here I thought I could survive a week without him. Now I know what he must have felt when I left for Prague. And that was 5 weeks!

Why is it harder for the person left behind than the person who moved on? Is it because there are no changes to the person left behind, except for the temporary absence of loved one, making it so difficult to achieve, to move on with the daily living?

Back at square one and a half

I applied for a position where my boyfriend works and although many have told me this might not be a good idea, it's just refreshing to be in a different environment whatever this situation may be. However, of course, I am not getting the job since they are planning to hire some from within. I knew it was coming, it's just unbearable. Not the fact that I won't be able to work with him, but just the idea that I would be experiencing and learning a whole new thing. All I could say is, oh well.

I am starting my web design class this evening. I'm in that place where I keep laying my bricks down in hopes that it's the path I'm bound to take. Who knows.

No Book Ends

I'm not sure what's worst: To have a rejection letter or to not receive one at all because the idea of sending one is more or less a waste of time. But then again, getting a lot of these rejection letters can ultimately (continuously) scar one's ego.

I have walked across the stage this past May 17th and the pride and joy I inhaled from the ceremony has long been undermined, once again, by the cold reality of the current economy. But what can I do? Nothing at the moment.

I got my new bookcase though :)!!! And it's about damn time! I have contemplated about this purchase, knowing that I should save up. However, it's all worth it. I'm happy about it!

Due to my current situation, I do think it's testing my inability to the think optimistically. Of course, my pessimistic norm won't allow it, but after receiving a lot of a pat on the back and then closing the door, positiveness must intervene. Let's face it, if it didn't, I might be digging my own hole at the cemetery. (Morbid, I know)

Life has been good. Like I said earlier, my bookcase is pretty, I have food in my plate, gas in my car and clothes to wear. Did I mention I got my bookcase?!? I apologize :D I am just excited about it! there is something about aligning all my books in a case and just looking at it and feeling that, "Hey, I'm smart! I read books!" I adore books! I always hoped that i would get to work with books around me (I am a nerd) and just learn so much by just flipping the pages. ever since, my fondness of books reflects on memories of staying after school and going to the library. Going to my usual spot and going chapter after chapter of a certain book, and I come back the next day just to finish where I left off. If they were a series, I would finish everything. The library I used to go to had so many sections, (well, all libraries do) and so by the time I entered high school, I had spent time in each and one of it. I read Tin-Tin's to Egyptian artifacts to Filipino folk tales and horror stories. I love imagining the stories and how it made me want to learn more and more. But lately, now at my age, it's tougher to be moved by the painted words and be swept away by it.

Reality seem to seep in through the pages as I try to be lost in some books. But to no avail, a ring tone or the "limited" time, gets in the way. Yet, the remarkable thing is, I don't get discourage and I would go back once again, to finish and learn and yearn for the place or situation they put in books. It never ends.

The Malkin Effect

Hello Miss Malkin,

How are you doing today?

Is it really that time

For your "truthful" words to prey

On the liberal, the free and maybe someone like me?

Whose color of skin is the same as yours,

From my hair and eyes and that wide nose?

Tell me Miss Malkin, did you hope one day

That your Filipino/Asian appearance

Can dissipate and erase

Who you are, what you are.

Oh, I'm sorry, did I define you as an object?

Bring on the news crew so you can object

This subject

To which abject misery

Not only befalls on you but for us too.

Miss Malkin, your face shows diversity

Yet you have an obscured mentality

Glitched by the word "truth"

To which you define as rightful

Let me tell you this, Miss Malkin

There is nothing wrong with what you say

This is in fact the American way

To bash, and trash people who come here

To live and work and get out of the poverty

Miss Malkin, have you been to the Philippines?

Have you seen the street kids begging for money?

Maybe you have, and maybe I'm wrong

So the more I wonder, what's with the rambling that's all "bull"?

There is nothing wrong with the recognition as an Asian

Nor the idea that American is seen as caucasian

This is all politically incorrect, that is true

But let's state the obvious the you are Filipino

That you are in fact Asian decent

No matter where you are born or missing an accent

Reality Not only bites nor blows...it's all beyond that!

Even though I am passive aggressive, I stay on top of things...well, try to. So, when it comes to jo hunting, I often call the ones I submitted my resume to because, in fact, that's what I learned in class. But most of the things we learn in class do not really apply in the real world. Well, in job hunting. I have done the calling after one or two weeks of submission, disregarding the fact that most of these opportunities demanded No phone calls. And I did anyway...Maybe that's why I didn't get the job(s)....lol.

We live, we learn so what's the point of being a debbie downer?

Recently, there has been news that the job rate is going up, slowly but surely. And yet, I am still not buying it.

It's not you, it's me

So, I have asserted myself in following up with people aka networking. And trust me when I say that I am not good at it therefore I must commend myself for doing this. But don't you ever feel like walking into a dead end and then turning back to where you started to begin a new path just to find it a dead end as well?

I have made contact and followed up with at least five people. And as time progressed, that number decreased and I'm down with one. A hopeful nonetheless yet still a path uncertain. I end up asking myself this:

Must I woo you in order for this to flourish? Shower your ears with longing love notes and desires to adore you and only you? Give you presents so your attraction to me would heighten and therefore live happily ever after?...?

If job hunting is dating, I would be sulking on the couch, eating a pint of ben & Jerry's and watching a marathon of Dawson's Creek due to the fact that rejection has been my shadow. But then again, I never really cared for Dawson and Joey. Ben & Jerry's more likely.

I would constantly think that Job Hunting has found a more likely candidate than I and I would be getting the phrase "It's not me, it's you"- quite the opposite of what the intended subtle phrase suppose to be. Then, my confidence would drop, resulting to me stranded on the couch, crying my eyes out and hoping he was happy whoever he chose.

That's the rejection part of dating.

The waiting part, however, is the process equally unbearable.

You meet someone. Flirt. Attraction is prominent. Similarities rise up. Then, exchange contacts. Said goodbyes then wait for the call. Days gone by, weeks, months, until you realized you'll never get that call. And so, you move along.

Sending resumes to positions you're guaranteed to be considered and then waiting for a callback is all too familiar. In the end, I just have to move along. But, let's say, a first interview is given. Once, I had a phone interview with the Communications department for Harpo, Inc. and of course, my hopes went up. The position was for an internship and although I have finished school, I won't be considered unless I was eligible. The requirement was for seniors and juniors...thus, my big mouth took over mentioning I was done in school. The second interview never came...that sounded like a good horror/suspense/mystery movie: THE SECOND INTERVIEW NEVER CAME...cue in creepy music.

In comparison with dating, this would fall in the first date category. All went well, you thought, and as he walked you to your door step, the thought of kissing him dance around your mind. It never did happen. No, not on the first date. Thus the beginning of the waiting game.

So, I wait. I have applied and the wait is not over.

Until, a long term relationship comes along. And no commitment-phobics in toll.

*picture by:http://fleisherartmemorial.blogspot.com/

Post-grad life

Exactly five months ago, I left the building of Columbia knowing that the future I dreamed of - the jump start of a career, the glamour, the bars, the apartment all to myself-is not exactly being revealed at the exact time, at the exact moment I went flying out the slightly heavy doors of Columbia college with my worn out shoes. Of course, I dragged my education with me, knowing that the obstacles from life will fill in the void where education used to reside.

I remember clearly what the city looked like when I left. The bitter winter was still half way through the season, but yet the chill gave the notion that it has been here for the longest time. I pulled my coat's collar closer to my cheeks to shield it from the blasting frost. I looked up to notice the sky was clear. The twinkling of the Chicago sky scrapers actually made it hard to see the actual stars. It mocked them, giving off false light where it seemed that the night sky stretch out to the bustling streets. My cousin was right about Chicago: you can barely see the stars there.
The ambiance of downtown Chicago was something else that night. My senses were triggered every second, heightened by the intensity of a memory its trying to build up, associating it to the fact that I have accomplished my college life.

Finally arriving at the train station, I hopped in my regular train and smiled at the idea of not having to commute three times a week again. I started listing down the upside of ending school. But then suddenly, sadness took over me. I could not pin point exactly what brought this emotion in mind. A few things came to play: Fear? loneliness? Even Happiness. Who knows. Even I didn't. I sighed and almost immediately, a tear rolled down my cheeks. I was shocked. Surprised. Embarrassed even. I kept asking myself: "why am I crying". Like always, I kept my emotions inside. But nothing can contain it, not even a phone call from a loved one.

And then, the train started moving.

Exactly five months ago, I left the building of Columbia knowing that the future I dreamed of - the jump start of a career, the glamour, the bars, the apartment all to myself-is not exactly being revealed at the exact time, at the exact moment I went flying out the slightly heavy doors of Columbia college with my worn out shoes. My career hasn't jump started yet. Glamour is not what I choose to be in my vocabulary. The bars are still there and the apartment, well, only time would tell.

From five months ago to a little about a month ago, my frustration of not having controlled where my life leads was more or less like the rise on the unemployment rate: it just kept increasing. I started questioning myself all of the things worth questioning: Did I make the right decisions? Did I do what I supposed to do? Did i participate well? Connected well? Am I just plain incapable of things? Networking has never been my ally. And if it was, it would normally fall through. Sure, I can be passive at times, but I do what I have to do. Do I?
Soon, fear closed in on me. I didn't know what to do but mope around for the most part. My job hunting has slowly turned against me and haunted me. Some of my hopefuls fell short. It's either I am not qualified for them or my second interviews never came. Bah Humbug.

I guess college life didn't really prepare me for this. Well, maybe it did, but I didn't pay attention to this. It's not like I assumed of attaining a managerial job or get a high paying job immediately. Like I remembered being mentioned, aim for the low position and start from there. I did. But nothing gave me a start.

In the end, my own degree was choking me.

And then, I snapped out of it the last week of last month. Thank God. I realized-with the help of my parents and other people- my road doesn't just go on one direction. I can build, start another one if I WANT IT. WHEN i want it.
The funny thing is, I'm learning more now than I have in school.
As much as my marketing degree is essential and my copy writing training is helpful, I believe that marketing is not for me. I left Columbia knowing that I will get a job at marketing, not hesitating or asking myself if it is what I want. These are the times that i should be truthful to myself. Sorry, marketing helps, but I prefer designing.

Thus, I laid a brick on a new path.

Do you have what it takes?

I cannot stop watching the trailer for Julia & Julie...or is it Julie & Julia? A movie base on a blog by Julie Powell who immensely found light through her "dead end" life with the help of the Julia Child's culinary book "Mastering the Art of French cooking". Starring Amy Adams and Meryl Streep, these two characters' lives intertwine without even knowing or being connected to each other, one way or another.

Something about this movie just triggered by perception of the similarities of what the protagonist Julie (Adams) is thinking and feeling that she was not living life.

The idea of being lost or being unsure of the path you're taking is pretty much right off the bat for me. Let's face it, no one wants to be doubting about what their purpose in life is. I am graduating in two weeks and the life I intended to live barely hits the mark. I mean, how can I accept a degree that I am not on the way to fulfill? I have heard words of encouragement, phrases of encouragement like "You are still young" or "Just be patient", or "It's because of the economy", but when it this state, in this situation, I cannot help but question myself. My intentions. Where I am heading...

My passion of life seemed to have fluttered away. I am all for making money now or trying to get a full time job to have money and eventually help my parents with the finances...and maybe have my own place. These are my dreams now. But it is not holding out to well for me. It is not holding me in place, to capture that dream of making tons of money. I don't think that goal is so weak that I continue to dwell back in uncertainty. I have to be passionate about something again to keep my head up.

I've always loved art. Always. But I want to learn something new. I am not saying that I am an incredible artist, I just want to get out of the norm. That comfort zone.

My mom always tells me to learn how to cook. Should I follow in Miss Powell's steps? It wouldn't hurt.

Should I?

Your average dating dilemma

When it comes to dating, I am not a pro nor am I novice. I'm just average. My dating adventures only began when I was 19 which leaves me chronicling five years of, what, dating (?). Yet, that didn't stop me from trying to give advice to my friends who are facing dating horrors. I have seen enough to know what advice to give them.

So, the phone call I received last night was all familiar. A friend of mine (Alyssa) met a guy while she was working one day. While doing his transaction, she mentioned how his eyes were bright and in return, the guy gave her his number. They went out on a drink this passed Tuesday and apparently it was all too...quiet. Considering that it was a first date, I told her both sides were definitely nervous therefore a second chance may not hurt. But then, the guys never called yesterday and today is Thursday.

Now, Alyssa said that no one really has taken her out on a date. Not for drinks, not to dinner. So, this date thing is very foreign to her. But there is no denying that Alyssa is interested, but should she make the move? According to her, a friend of hers told her to send him a thank you text message. With my resources aka guy's POV aka boyfriend, it would be better to call and leave a voice message. In a way, it seems more personable and less technical.

I like to give advice knowing that i have experience something similar and/or common sense without the female psyche interrupting, but the again, I am only woman. The battle between the rules and common sense is never ending.

I told Alyssa to just take risk. If she was able to jump off a plane for skydiving, she can definitely jump into this situation. I mean, what's the worst the could happen? I know the results would be much better than skydiving...

Why is it so difficult to make the first move?

Ego? Principles?

Moreso, why do we have to play games all the time?

Cherry

It's official. I'm developing a blog. I have used a variety from social networks and thought to myself why not make it something more than just through these networks. So, here it is!

In person, my mouth don't run as much as my head does. Full of thoughts, concepts and etc, my mind finds itself wondering and triggering most interesting ideas that when not written down, it would gladly slip away. Bye bye, there it goes!

I'm not much of a talker really. At first meet, I'm the quiet one who is more than happy to observe what other people do. It is interesting how people connect, interact, react to any consideration of what life is. I often find myself staring at most time which can be both strange and rude.

I like art as well as writing.

My love for image and color dwells also in words. I find the simplicity of words and color to be essential to everything that is made.

I am graduating in a couple of weeks. Though I have finished since December, it's not until May 17th will it seal the deal that I am a college graduate. Wow. So, since i have been out from school, I am one of those statistic of grads hardly finding a way to jump start their dreams. I had my fair share of undermined hope and discouragement but gradually I learned to cope up with whatever comes my way.

Now, I am grateful to have a job. It may be part time but it is something.

Though, I don't stop dreaming of what I want.