I went home discouraged from all of the night’s harsh words. The anticipation and excitement early that evening went down the drain. Instead, I went home flustered and uninspired.
“The lyrics are sloppy” ; “Your lyrics doesn’t make sense at all!!!! (take note of the exclamation points. Yes, that’s how expressive the guy was)” ; “There’s a language barrier” ; “Resonance of culture” ; “if you present a song like that to Westerners, it won’t sell.”
Criticisms I received on my song “Sanctuary”. Statements from a music producer, a member of the committee and a random songwriter in the audience.
I went to the Songwriter Critique Workshop expecting constructive criticisms, which I did, no doubt about that. However, the blunt words and facial reactions were unexpected and uncalled for. Another songwriter who preferred to present a non-sense song which he admitted it to be, performed a 3-minute song talking about his sexual pleasures about a girl named “Jane”. Surprisingly, the whole room clapped and the panel of critics were thrilled with the choice of words.
I just shrugged my shoulders in bewilderment.
But hey, I’m over it..and I’m moving on. So here’s what came out of the experience.
Today, I’ve picked up “and again”, a second hand book I found 3 months ago. “How To Be a Hit Songwriter (Polishing and Marketing your lyrics and music)” by Molly-Ann Leikin. (dream on jowe. Well, might as well try right? If it doesn’t work, then just do it for the sake of art and music.)
Reading the first chapter made me feel better.
Excerpt: I want you to take comfort knowing that all songwriters hate rewriting. No matter how long they’ve been working at their craft, and in spite of how successful they have become, songwriters always feel violated by someone telling them that what they’ve created isn’t perfect. All writers feel the same way. When my editor sent me his notes on the first draft of this book, even though accompanied by a glowing letter saying what a terrific job I’d done, I still had to hide in bed for four whole days before I could muster the courage to address myself to making the necessary changes”
And so, I realized my reaction was normal. That indeed, this whole exercise of rewriting can really get to you.
Molly says, It’s important to being a rewrite only after you’ve accepted the need for it. Approaching it halfheartedly will produce mediocre results.
Don’t you find it amazing how “acceptance” can really make a big difference in various aspects of life?
A few pointers from Chapter1 of the book:
- Speed has nothing to do with excellence
- Writing is a process. Each draft is part of that process. And with each draft, your song gets a little better and closer to what it eventually will be when it’s finished
- Patience is important
- Learning to rewrite is like learning to do anything – you acquire the skill slowly
And so again, I start these exercises, hoping at some point I might build up enough skill. Sometimes I wonder if age has a factor. Perhaps if I commenced at an early stage, I might have achieved a lot more. After reading the book “Outliers”, I tend to ponder on questions like this.
Anyway, I’ve written this down to share with my fellow musicians and friends. Always find inspiration, despite the demise of enthusiasm after a Critique workshop.
Just like what my friend said “At least you know there’s room for improvement”.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Surviving the First Time
It's been a while since I've written down my thoughts. I guess when you get into the downward spiral, even words are not enough to exhume the pain away. That familiar zone can drain the life out of you. And the traumatic effect makes you weak inside out.
When you're fed up on waiting....sometimes you decide on plain surrender that perhaps there's no such thing as "the one". Then you just let it all go...when there's an opportunity.
But then, if i look back again....everything just happened. I didn't expect it. although for some reason, i saw it coming. I just didn't stop. I just didn't put up the walls i usually have. I allowed my vulnerability get the better of me.
The fire..the intensity. The touch. the kiss. the urge. All flared up. not once, but twice.
i thought he was different from the rest. i thought he was special. i thought all he said were sweet and true. i thought he was cute with his blue eyes and charming smile.
i guess i was wrong. for all the adjectives , except for the physical attributes.
honestly, i still don't understand men. They can go without emotions. They can "do" without feeling. How?
The last time I saw him was when he waved goodbye at the carpark. Him and his gorgeous Honda Bike. HIs blue eyes peered out of his helmet as his gloved hand bid my "goodbye". that was it.
I never heard back from him again. I did try to communicate, had a few exchanges, but when i asked for dinner (which might have sounded asking for a serious relationship)....i didn't get any response at all.
that was it. it's been almost a month now. Everything happened so fast. in the span of a week all of that "casual" thing happened. Over the past weeks..I was crashed.
I ended up deleting his number and his messages. Cleared up my call log so i didn't have excuse to find ways of finding his number on my cellphone.
it drove me crazy for days and weeks. There were nights (And still now) that I hear the motorbikes roaring mufflers in the neighborhood and wish that he would text and say that's him downstairs. all of these thoughts just die down as I find slumber through the night.
I was vulnerable. I wanted to be needed. I needed to be wanted. Desired. HE said the right words. He kissed my shoulders with every move I make that rose him up. We talked before closing our eyes, we talked as we woke up.
I guess it was the scenario that I liked. Having someone at the start and end of the day. But perhaps if i was really in a serious relationship with him now...i guess it wouldn't have worked. He's 10 years younger than me. Made me feel like a Puma (not a Cooger). But I have a gut instinct that he lied about his age. HE thought I was 22, until he learned the truth...that caught him by surprise.
The other day I biked towards southwest...and on the other side of the road I saw a biker give me a long glance. I'm sure it wasn't him, but still it gave me goose bumps. Sydney can be a big place...but....i can't see myself bumping into him again.
Some of my friends ask me "what if he calls/texts again". I can't really answer that question. For sure he wouldn't. coz they say if a guy is into you....he wouldn't even let a week pass by without communicating. but this one....it's been 3 weeks now. so that's it.
This was my first encounter. My First time. In a foreign country where I'm still finding myself...my footing.
I don't know if i'm stronger now. Perhaps if i encounter a smooth talker, i won't fall for the mind games anymore. nor even for the blue eyes, charming smile...nor even for a gorgeous bike.
This is still me..surviving the first time.
When you're fed up on waiting....sometimes you decide on plain surrender that perhaps there's no such thing as "the one". Then you just let it all go...when there's an opportunity.
But then, if i look back again....everything just happened. I didn't expect it. although for some reason, i saw it coming. I just didn't stop. I just didn't put up the walls i usually have. I allowed my vulnerability get the better of me.
The fire..the intensity. The touch. the kiss. the urge. All flared up. not once, but twice.
i thought he was different from the rest. i thought he was special. i thought all he said were sweet and true. i thought he was cute with his blue eyes and charming smile.
i guess i was wrong. for all the adjectives , except for the physical attributes.
honestly, i still don't understand men. They can go without emotions. They can "do" without feeling. How?
The last time I saw him was when he waved goodbye at the carpark. Him and his gorgeous Honda Bike. HIs blue eyes peered out of his helmet as his gloved hand bid my "goodbye". that was it.
I never heard back from him again. I did try to communicate, had a few exchanges, but when i asked for dinner (which might have sounded asking for a serious relationship)....i didn't get any response at all.
that was it. it's been almost a month now. Everything happened so fast. in the span of a week all of that "casual" thing happened. Over the past weeks..I was crashed.
I ended up deleting his number and his messages. Cleared up my call log so i didn't have excuse to find ways of finding his number on my cellphone.
it drove me crazy for days and weeks. There were nights (And still now) that I hear the motorbikes roaring mufflers in the neighborhood and wish that he would text and say that's him downstairs. all of these thoughts just die down as I find slumber through the night.
I was vulnerable. I wanted to be needed. I needed to be wanted. Desired. HE said the right words. He kissed my shoulders with every move I make that rose him up. We talked before closing our eyes, we talked as we woke up.
I guess it was the scenario that I liked. Having someone at the start and end of the day. But perhaps if i was really in a serious relationship with him now...i guess it wouldn't have worked. He's 10 years younger than me. Made me feel like a Puma (not a Cooger). But I have a gut instinct that he lied about his age. HE thought I was 22, until he learned the truth...that caught him by surprise.
The other day I biked towards southwest...and on the other side of the road I saw a biker give me a long glance. I'm sure it wasn't him, but still it gave me goose bumps. Sydney can be a big place...but....i can't see myself bumping into him again.
Some of my friends ask me "what if he calls/texts again". I can't really answer that question. For sure he wouldn't. coz they say if a guy is into you....he wouldn't even let a week pass by without communicating. but this one....it's been 3 weeks now. so that's it.
This was my first encounter. My First time. In a foreign country where I'm still finding myself...my footing.
I don't know if i'm stronger now. Perhaps if i encounter a smooth talker, i won't fall for the mind games anymore. nor even for the blue eyes, charming smile...nor even for a gorgeous bike.
This is still me..surviving the first time.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
5 years ago..
5 years ago, I boarded the plane from Manila bound for Aotearoa (New Zealand) via Singapore.
On the 19th of March, due to the aircraft’s technical problems (Gab remember this one? ), I had to stay in Singapore for a day. I guess it was a good way of ending my Singapore chapter as well, working there for less than a year. It served as my stepping stone. It worked as a good pit stop. It helped solidify the ME. It made me understand what I wanted and what I needed. All of that, I brought with me to New Zealand.
Kia Ora, the immigration officer greeted me.
My sister was standing outside. Hugged her. Autumn wind was blowing. We had a toast that night. I started work the following day.
That was 5 years ago. How time flies. I’ve been to places & continents, out and about. Climbed so many mountains. Dived a few seas. Played in a few pubs. Danced in a few clubs. Made good friends and extended families. Rode my bike and watched sunsets. Clicked my camera and captured moments. Watched friends & sister get married and start a new chapter. Casted a fishing rod and enjoyed a snapper for dinner. Shared a lot of coffee/tea moments with good mates. Pitched a tent somewhere where I found silence. Done long joy rides to keep the sanity alive. Puffed a few shishas. Welcomed friends from afar and shared my new Zealand. Started my project of creating a demo cd. Laughed, cried, went through heart aches, woke up with hangovers….
Looking back, I’ll be boarding a plane to New Zealand again. Same time frame.
Had the Sydney opportunity not come along, I would have been boarding a plane bound for Manila instead, via Singapore. Staying in my beloved country for 2 months.
But then…..life has a funny way of twisting things around. (sounds like Ironic of Alanis)
They say everything happens for a reason.. cliché.
They say we are where we are supposed to be…. Cliché.
Let’s see……but for now…and as for this email….. I’d like to say Thank you (with all of my heart) –
- To the people here in OZ who helped me through the last 3 months whilst adjusting in Sydney. For being there. For listening. For the chats & laughter. For the company. For the music. For the roadtrip.
- To the people back in NZ & Manila (my family and friends) who knows me all too well, most especially my moods. For being so supportive. For looking after me, despite the distance.
- To the people back in Singapore, for checking on me…and for the deep conversations …which I so appreciate
On the 19th of March, due to the aircraft’s technical problems (Gab remember this one? ), I had to stay in Singapore for a day. I guess it was a good way of ending my Singapore chapter as well, working there for less than a year. It served as my stepping stone. It worked as a good pit stop. It helped solidify the ME. It made me understand what I wanted and what I needed. All of that, I brought with me to New Zealand.
Kia Ora, the immigration officer greeted me.
My sister was standing outside. Hugged her. Autumn wind was blowing. We had a toast that night. I started work the following day.
That was 5 years ago. How time flies. I’ve been to places & continents, out and about. Climbed so many mountains. Dived a few seas. Played in a few pubs. Danced in a few clubs. Made good friends and extended families. Rode my bike and watched sunsets. Clicked my camera and captured moments. Watched friends & sister get married and start a new chapter. Casted a fishing rod and enjoyed a snapper for dinner. Shared a lot of coffee/tea moments with good mates. Pitched a tent somewhere where I found silence. Done long joy rides to keep the sanity alive. Puffed a few shishas. Welcomed friends from afar and shared my new Zealand. Started my project of creating a demo cd. Laughed, cried, went through heart aches, woke up with hangovers….
Looking back, I’ll be boarding a plane to New Zealand again. Same time frame.
Had the Sydney opportunity not come along, I would have been boarding a plane bound for Manila instead, via Singapore. Staying in my beloved country for 2 months.
But then…..life has a funny way of twisting things around. (sounds like Ironic of Alanis)
They say everything happens for a reason.. cliché.
They say we are where we are supposed to be…. Cliché.
Let’s see……but for now…and as for this email….. I’d like to say Thank you (with all of my heart) –
- To the people here in OZ who helped me through the last 3 months whilst adjusting in Sydney. For being there. For listening. For the chats & laughter. For the company. For the music. For the roadtrip.
- To the people back in NZ & Manila (my family and friends) who knows me all too well, most especially my moods. For being so supportive. For looking after me, despite the distance.
- To the people back in Singapore, for checking on me…and for the deep conversations …which I so appreciate
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Angel Eyes
There are some tunes that make you nostalgic. A sudden gush of memories floods your emotions and you feel warped back to those days when that certain song was playing in the background…
………
Sun light fills the room, the cd churns in our old 486 CPU, Mom and Dad in the kitchen….
… I walk along the corridor towards the backroom of our old house….
… and hear Jim Brickman in the background. Angel eyes playing…
I go back when life was seemingly just plain and simple. Weekends of family’s routine, dog barking at the jeepney’s passing by. “taho..” I hear from outside, and Mom would order it for us…yummy…
Back then complications were actually just petty things…in retrospect.
Our home, our family was our only sanctuary from the harsh realities that bound us to the different anxieties of society.
I hear the rustling of the coconut leaves, summer heat touching my skin, humidity sets in……
… I watch Mom prepare the favoured dinuguan, Dad washes his hands…
My sisters come along to the table and we say grace…..
…… the last few notes of Jim Brickman fades in the background……..
………
Sun light fills the room, the cd churns in our old 486 CPU, Mom and Dad in the kitchen….
… I walk along the corridor towards the backroom of our old house….
… and hear Jim Brickman in the background. Angel eyes playing…
I go back when life was seemingly just plain and simple. Weekends of family’s routine, dog barking at the jeepney’s passing by. “taho..” I hear from outside, and Mom would order it for us…yummy…
Back then complications were actually just petty things…in retrospect.
Our home, our family was our only sanctuary from the harsh realities that bound us to the different anxieties of society.
I hear the rustling of the coconut leaves, summer heat touching my skin, humidity sets in……
… I watch Mom prepare the favoured dinuguan, Dad washes his hands…
My sisters come along to the table and we say grace…..
…… the last few notes of Jim Brickman fades in the background……..
Thursday, March 3, 2011
All These Years..From Me
Last Saturday, I found myself finishing a song that i've been trying to work on for a year now. I would usually play the notes on my guitar, but never found the exact words I wanted to bolt on so as to make it the perfect mirrored version of my emotions..my demons. And so, here were the words I've written. I played it for the first time in an open mic last Wednesday. (Excelsior Glebe Hotel)
All These Years.. From Me
Year and Year I've tried to fly away
Free from something, free from someone
Trying to break free from chains
Looking back now I can clearly see
all the pain, all the misery
were all just a mask of me
Chorus:
All these years I've been running away
I've been hiding away...
flying away...
From Me
Shadows fill this emptry four cornered wall
Seasons change outside my door
Maybe I should just fade
Should i go and close my eyes
should i just let it all pass by
Perhaps I'll survive
repeat chorus
sometimes it tires me.. all these thoughts, all these wallowing, all these fears, all these insecurities.....
i'm tired of taking care of myself, of motivating myself...
waking up to mornings where you drag yourself out of bed...wishing you could just snuggle under the sheets..but knowing that you need to go to work and get paid..so you can then pay the bills..and the mortgage..and whatever...
i know there are so many people out there with problems..and listening to my woes..this is just big time Petty....
but am i not allowed to vent...... to rant......to feel miserable?
misery... getting to be such a common place now...
so common...
when will it end :(
can somebody save me?
All These Years.. From Me
Year and Year I've tried to fly away
Free from something, free from someone
Trying to break free from chains
Looking back now I can clearly see
all the pain, all the misery
were all just a mask of me
Chorus:
All these years I've been running away
I've been hiding away...
flying away...
From Me
Shadows fill this emptry four cornered wall
Seasons change outside my door
Maybe I should just fade
Should i go and close my eyes
should i just let it all pass by
Perhaps I'll survive
repeat chorus
sometimes it tires me.. all these thoughts, all these wallowing, all these fears, all these insecurities.....
i'm tired of taking care of myself, of motivating myself...
waking up to mornings where you drag yourself out of bed...wishing you could just snuggle under the sheets..but knowing that you need to go to work and get paid..so you can then pay the bills..and the mortgage..and whatever...
i know there are so many people out there with problems..and listening to my woes..this is just big time Petty....
but am i not allowed to vent...... to rant......to feel miserable?
misery... getting to be such a common place now...
so common...
when will it end :(
can somebody save me?
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Passion
I watched him hold on to the portafilter with intimate finesse. He explained the art of “Coffee making” with passion. It’s amazing how the age of the beans mattered so much, such that the spot on day would make a big difference for a customer’s coffee experience. And I guess at the end of the day, that’s what matters.
For the past years, coffee has played a big role in our society. It entwines the social catch-ups with the caffeine addict-workaholic mania as well. Long queues can be seen along the Sydney alleys. People rushing about, holding on to their coffee, treating it as their everyday drug that satisfies their need to be up and awake through the day.
I’m not really a big coffee lover due to my high acidity. Years ago I wouldn’t pass a day without one. But now I’ve learned to control my hunger for caffeine. However, regardless of one’s state, I dared to pursue my nudging desire to learn coffee making. Actually, it’s been so long overdue already.
And so, last night… was my first time to attend a Barista class. Perhaps another option for me when I retire.
There’s apparently a lot of artistry along with it. Yes, it’s simple to grind the beans and tamp the granules with enough pressure. But, listening and watching someone with the passion of meticulously doing the proper and precise movement, was rather inspiring for me. And true to his word, we did see the difference in crema, colour and taste with each wrong tamping, overfill, underfill, etc. that we did. He also discussed the effect of humidity, etc.
Okay, from a more general perspective… going back to what I’m getting on with…
….. is ….. PASSION.
I remember my Dad telling us when we were kids. IF you’re going to do something/task, make sure you do your best. Well, if you top it up with the mix of passion… then definitely the results would be superb.
Passion is the beautiful articulation of commitment and artistry to one’s skill/gift. And our instructor last night reminded me of that. It’s not just pouring coffee and serving it to a caffeine addict. IT’s the experience they endure through their last sip of that coffee that is wholly derived from a passionate barista’s effort to produce a superb one.
For the past years, coffee has played a big role in our society. It entwines the social catch-ups with the caffeine addict-workaholic mania as well. Long queues can be seen along the Sydney alleys. People rushing about, holding on to their coffee, treating it as their everyday drug that satisfies their need to be up and awake through the day.
I’m not really a big coffee lover due to my high acidity. Years ago I wouldn’t pass a day without one. But now I’ve learned to control my hunger for caffeine. However, regardless of one’s state, I dared to pursue my nudging desire to learn coffee making. Actually, it’s been so long overdue already.
And so, last night… was my first time to attend a Barista class. Perhaps another option for me when I retire.
There’s apparently a lot of artistry along with it. Yes, it’s simple to grind the beans and tamp the granules with enough pressure. But, listening and watching someone with the passion of meticulously doing the proper and precise movement, was rather inspiring for me. And true to his word, we did see the difference in crema, colour and taste with each wrong tamping, overfill, underfill, etc. that we did. He also discussed the effect of humidity, etc.
Okay, from a more general perspective… going back to what I’m getting on with…
….. is ….. PASSION.
I remember my Dad telling us when we were kids. IF you’re going to do something/task, make sure you do your best. Well, if you top it up with the mix of passion… then definitely the results would be superb.
Passion is the beautiful articulation of commitment and artistry to one’s skill/gift. And our instructor last night reminded me of that. It’s not just pouring coffee and serving it to a caffeine addict. IT’s the experience they endure through their last sip of that coffee that is wholly derived from a passionate barista’s effort to produce a superb one.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
The Art of Love
I came in to work on my office suit, feeling smart. I stared out the bus window and watched the haste of the morning rush. The tune playing on my ipod was “The Art of Love” by Guy Sebastian.
I closed my eyes….and told myself…This is Me.
A picture popped in my mind…the Me in the future.
Future Me in the cobwebs of old age…still staring outside a window, contemplating on life and what to do so it would all make sense. Alone? Yeah. That’s what I saw.
It’s ironic that I picture this but I was listening to a love song.
Perhaps the art of love I’m learning is to just love myself, my family and friends. And that’s it. Period to it all.
And the acceptance that I’ll grow old alone has culminated and has now peacefully settled in my heart. No bitterness….only the art of acceptance.
I closed my eyes….and told myself…This is Me.
A picture popped in my mind…the Me in the future.
Future Me in the cobwebs of old age…still staring outside a window, contemplating on life and what to do so it would all make sense. Alone? Yeah. That’s what I saw.
It’s ironic that I picture this but I was listening to a love song.
Perhaps the art of love I’m learning is to just love myself, my family and friends. And that’s it. Period to it all.
And the acceptance that I’ll grow old alone has culminated and has now peacefully settled in my heart. No bitterness….only the art of acceptance.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Living The Dream
They say I'm Living the Dream.
what's the context?
Can you actually live a dream if a part of you seems to surge with a tinge of loneliness. Lost and confused as to where all of these would lead me to.
this might be hormones.
i don't know. or maybe the Valentines Day Bug.
geez
what's the context?
Can you actually live a dream if a part of you seems to surge with a tinge of loneliness. Lost and confused as to where all of these would lead me to.
this might be hormones.
i don't know. or maybe the Valentines Day Bug.
geez
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Retirement
For the past weeks a silly picture/idea has been haunting me. Believe me or not...it's what they call "retirement".
No, i'm not 65. I'm just turning 32.
so why retirement?
Whilst munching on my chicken avocado wrap yesterday, i told myself....maybe i'll be growing old alone. So.. if that's the case, i should really be planning a retirement kind of lifestyle that would still keep me perky, up and going. I know loneliness will still be part of my shadow...but hey, i'm but human.
so yeah, i've been thinking. perhaps look for a small town/village. end my I.T. years and maybe work as a postwoman in the local cute postshop. I haven't really thought if i'd wear red. I wouldn't want to look like "Postman Pat". Perhaps wear blue?
Then have a small cottage to myself with a small fireplace. maybe have a dog. locate myself somewhere near the river (definitely not in a place where floods would bug me)... then during weekend, go fishing and catch just enough to last me the whole week. Maybe plant a veggie garden as well. Lessen the expenses. hahaha.
am i losing it? maybe. who cares. it's just me anyways.
pathetic? i don't think so. it's better to plan the future, not feeling sorry for one's self if there's no hubby to share it with...rather, just go forth and paint a picture of you...solidly believing that things will be okay if not challenging while living on my own. It has been for the past few months anyways.
And hey...so many people around the world have their own issues. some far worse than what i'm dealing with (my own emotional turmoil downward spiral non sense).
don't you just hate it when hormones play tricks on you? geez.
oh and yeah..bloody hell...yesterday, all of a sudden i was wishing i had a boyfriend!!!!
DUH!!!!! EEEEKKKK!!!!!!
i'll be fine! i can handle this....!!!!!!!
hahaha...this is what's good when you've got a blog and not all of your friends are aware that exists. you can just blabber all u want without being judged. :)
No, i'm not 65. I'm just turning 32.
so why retirement?
Whilst munching on my chicken avocado wrap yesterday, i told myself....maybe i'll be growing old alone. So.. if that's the case, i should really be planning a retirement kind of lifestyle that would still keep me perky, up and going. I know loneliness will still be part of my shadow...but hey, i'm but human.
so yeah, i've been thinking. perhaps look for a small town/village. end my I.T. years and maybe work as a postwoman in the local cute postshop. I haven't really thought if i'd wear red. I wouldn't want to look like "Postman Pat". Perhaps wear blue?
Then have a small cottage to myself with a small fireplace. maybe have a dog. locate myself somewhere near the river (definitely not in a place where floods would bug me)... then during weekend, go fishing and catch just enough to last me the whole week. Maybe plant a veggie garden as well. Lessen the expenses. hahaha.
am i losing it? maybe. who cares. it's just me anyways.
pathetic? i don't think so. it's better to plan the future, not feeling sorry for one's self if there's no hubby to share it with...rather, just go forth and paint a picture of you...solidly believing that things will be okay if not challenging while living on my own. It has been for the past few months anyways.
And hey...so many people around the world have their own issues. some far worse than what i'm dealing with (my own emotional turmoil downward spiral non sense).
don't you just hate it when hormones play tricks on you? geez.
oh and yeah..bloody hell...yesterday, all of a sudden i was wishing i had a boyfriend!!!!
DUH!!!!! EEEEKKKK!!!!!!
i'll be fine! i can handle this....!!!!!!!
hahaha...this is what's good when you've got a blog and not all of your friends are aware that exists. you can just blabber all u want without being judged. :)
Just Do It
And so you all know that i've transferred to Sydney. Packed my bags and my guitar, had a few things shipped over (which is taking ages!), and here I am now 2 months after that crazy and busy chapter of my life.
This weekend i've finally started with the Motorbike Training .... and yes! i've finally decided to go back biking. It liberates me. so why not just do it.
besides, i'm not the typical aggressive bikers out there. My sole purpose is to satisfy my need to feel the wind and freedom when I'm on that bike.
Nothing can ever beat that. It's just you and your thoughts...... perhaps escaping from something, but anyway.... as long as it serves its purpose..i'm all sweet!
This weekend i've finally started with the Motorbike Training .... and yes! i've finally decided to go back biking. It liberates me. so why not just do it.
besides, i'm not the typical aggressive bikers out there. My sole purpose is to satisfy my need to feel the wind and freedom when I'm on that bike.
Nothing can ever beat that. It's just you and your thoughts...... perhaps escaping from something, but anyway.... as long as it serves its purpose..i'm all sweet!
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
When taking Care of one's self
Don't get me wrong. I do love my independence, my singleton lifestyle, my own silence.
But there are mornings when I stand by the cooking stove that I suddenly get nudged by the tired feeling of taking care of myself.
is it just me or is age hitting me now....
there are times when i tell myself that "space" is what i need.
but when loneline hits me, i just hope someone is taking care of me for a change.
But there are mornings when I stand by the cooking stove that I suddenly get nudged by the tired feeling of taking care of myself.
is it just me or is age hitting me now....
there are times when i tell myself that "space" is what i need.
but when loneline hits me, i just hope someone is taking care of me for a change.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
The Sudden Surge (Biglaan)
Hiccup. Hold on to the tears.
Sob. Can’t… need to allow it all to flow.
Sigh. When the phase of acceptance is the only liberation from the pain..perhaps…eventually..time will tell.
You hear a familiar tune on your mp3 player then a sudden gush of memories all flows back. Muddled up emotions of anger and pain swells up in your throat……can’t swallow…..as if you’ve consumed so much anguish to push it down…
You wallow for a while. Sometimes joke with friends that you’ve got that invisible “L” (Loser) sign on your forehead….laugh it out…. But deep inside thats what you feel about yourself.
Asking yourself what have you done to deserve that, when all you did was love so much……..is that a crime? Punishable with scars of betrayal and unwanted self preservation.
Warp back to reality.
And leave the momentary anguish of memories.
6 Cycle Mind – Biglaan (Permission to Shine)
Nandito nakaukit pa rin sa puso ko,
Nang sabihin mong wag na lang.
Nandito nakatatak pa rin sa isip ko,
Kung paano mong tinalikuran ang lahat.
Kay bilis ba't umalis, nakakamiss
Na bigla lang di ko man lamang nalaman
Na mawawala,
Na bigla lang di mo man lamang naisip
Na idahan-dahan.
Hindi ako sanay sa biglaan,
Unti unti na lang sanang nawala.
Hindi ba natin kayang magkunwari,
at sabihing sige na lang
Hindi ba natin kayang dayain,
Ang mga yakap sa tuwing lumalambing
Kay bilis ba't umalis, nakakamiss
Na bigla lang di ko man lamang nalaman
Na mawawala,
Na bigla lang di mo man lamang naisip
Na idahan-dahan.
Hindi ako sanay sa biglaan,
Unti unti na lang sanang nawala.
Sob. Can’t… need to allow it all to flow.
Sigh. When the phase of acceptance is the only liberation from the pain..perhaps…eventually..time will tell.
You hear a familiar tune on your mp3 player then a sudden gush of memories all flows back. Muddled up emotions of anger and pain swells up in your throat……can’t swallow…..as if you’ve consumed so much anguish to push it down…
You wallow for a while. Sometimes joke with friends that you’ve got that invisible “L” (Loser) sign on your forehead….laugh it out…. But deep inside thats what you feel about yourself.
Asking yourself what have you done to deserve that, when all you did was love so much……..is that a crime? Punishable with scars of betrayal and unwanted self preservation.
Warp back to reality.
And leave the momentary anguish of memories.
6 Cycle Mind – Biglaan (Permission to Shine)
Nandito nakaukit pa rin sa puso ko,
Nang sabihin mong wag na lang.
Nandito nakatatak pa rin sa isip ko,
Kung paano mong tinalikuran ang lahat.
Kay bilis ba't umalis, nakakamiss
Na bigla lang di ko man lamang nalaman
Na mawawala,
Na bigla lang di mo man lamang naisip
Na idahan-dahan.
Hindi ako sanay sa biglaan,
Unti unti na lang sanang nawala.
Hindi ba natin kayang magkunwari,
at sabihing sige na lang
Hindi ba natin kayang dayain,
Ang mga yakap sa tuwing lumalambing
Kay bilis ba't umalis, nakakamiss
Na bigla lang di ko man lamang nalaman
Na mawawala,
Na bigla lang di mo man lamang naisip
Na idahan-dahan.
Hindi ako sanay sa biglaan,
Unti unti na lang sanang nawala.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
First Time in The Sando
I didn’t know what to expect. I had to gulp the anticipation and nervous feelings down. I got off the bus and walked to the Sandringham Hotel – or better well known as “The Sando”.
The stage was to the left of the door. A girl and guy were playing when I came in. The audience was quiet and attentively listening. I liked the vibe.
I got my fave Stella Artois and found a corner with my guitar. The girls’ voice was lovely and the guys’ guitar skills were entertaining. The pool table was at the back end of the room, which was good coz it didn’t bother the performers at all.
The next performer was one of the regulars. His white hair glistened under the lights as he played on stage. I enjoyed his grooves and music. A few love songs and one about his travels. Jade joined in and did some harmonies with him. Definitely cool, had me tapping my feet to the rhythm.
I was next.
Plugged in my guitar and got introduced. I guess the Stella and the Heini helped a lot to soften up the nervous veins and minimize the shyness. I told the crowd that was my first open mic in Sydney…in Australia for that matter.
I started slow and quiet with my song Smoking Ashes. An original written about a nice of catching up with my best mate in New Zealand. That was a good warm up for me to start the night.
Next was a personal fave of mine, I’ve entitled Sanctuary. Inspired by one of my road trip moments whilst in South Island, NZ.
And the last one,..Save Me. I closed my eyes and let my fingers do the tapping and strumming, as I slowly got lost in the music. (I had to do a cover song after that one though)
There is so much beauty in music. The passion relives its moments when you allow the notes and the emotions flow in through the rhythm. The voices of one’s soul reserved and epitomized in each melody… the best way to harmonize the feelings.
I stayed for a while and listened to the next performer. Loved her voice and was impressed by the guys’ guitar skills.
I left happy and contented… glad that I got a lot of feedback from a few of the audiences that night & glad to have heard and be part of the Sydney’s Muso’s world….
I guess this goes out to all of those people out there with “passion” for the arts, music, painting, writing. Etc…
Strive to make it part of your life and don’t ever put it aside. Breaks are acceptable.
For me, all I know is…music defines me. It has and always will be.
So Cheers to all the Muso’s out there!
Rock on!!
The stage was to the left of the door. A girl and guy were playing when I came in. The audience was quiet and attentively listening. I liked the vibe.
I got my fave Stella Artois and found a corner with my guitar. The girls’ voice was lovely and the guys’ guitar skills were entertaining. The pool table was at the back end of the room, which was good coz it didn’t bother the performers at all.
The next performer was one of the regulars. His white hair glistened under the lights as he played on stage. I enjoyed his grooves and music. A few love songs and one about his travels. Jade joined in and did some harmonies with him. Definitely cool, had me tapping my feet to the rhythm.
I was next.
Plugged in my guitar and got introduced. I guess the Stella and the Heini helped a lot to soften up the nervous veins and minimize the shyness. I told the crowd that was my first open mic in Sydney…in Australia for that matter.
I started slow and quiet with my song Smoking Ashes. An original written about a nice of catching up with my best mate in New Zealand. That was a good warm up for me to start the night.
Next was a personal fave of mine, I’ve entitled Sanctuary. Inspired by one of my road trip moments whilst in South Island, NZ.
And the last one,..Save Me. I closed my eyes and let my fingers do the tapping and strumming, as I slowly got lost in the music. (I had to do a cover song after that one though)
There is so much beauty in music. The passion relives its moments when you allow the notes and the emotions flow in through the rhythm. The voices of one’s soul reserved and epitomized in each melody… the best way to harmonize the feelings.
I stayed for a while and listened to the next performer. Loved her voice and was impressed by the guys’ guitar skills.
I left happy and contented… glad that I got a lot of feedback from a few of the audiences that night & glad to have heard and be part of the Sydney’s Muso’s world….
I guess this goes out to all of those people out there with “passion” for the arts, music, painting, writing. Etc…
Strive to make it part of your life and don’t ever put it aside. Breaks are acceptable.
For me, all I know is…music defines me. It has and always will be.
So Cheers to all the Muso’s out there!
Rock on!!
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Of books, coffee and antiquities
a delight that I’m so willing to share in the suburb I’m living in…is a book café I’ve discovered along Glebe Pt. Road. It’s well known as Sappho. http://www.sapphobooks.com.au/index.html
I’ve chosen my spot there. A small 2-seat table beside the window and a whole shelf of books. Convenient to the water station and the café, there I sit anonymous to the crowd, reading and flipping through different books that fancies my interest. For a few hours I feel I’m brought into a different dimension. A world of words enticed by the authors’ superb storytelling.
First level contains all of the non-fiction, fiction, travel and a variety of interesting books. Second level of this charming book café holds a whole section of musical scores, manuscripts and pieces. Ranging from jazz, pop, rock and classical. The other side keeps the philosophy and aboriginal volumes.
Books hold endless and priceless amounts of information. So, if you get to drop by the Glebe area, that’ s definitely a café to check out.
Have a happy week ahead everyone despite the showers and gray clouds.
I’ve chosen my spot there. A small 2-seat table beside the window and a whole shelf of books. Convenient to the water station and the café, there I sit anonymous to the crowd, reading and flipping through different books that fancies my interest. For a few hours I feel I’m brought into a different dimension. A world of words enticed by the authors’ superb storytelling.
First level contains all of the non-fiction, fiction, travel and a variety of interesting books. Second level of this charming book café holds a whole section of musical scores, manuscripts and pieces. Ranging from jazz, pop, rock and classical. The other side keeps the philosophy and aboriginal volumes.
Books hold endless and priceless amounts of information. So, if you get to drop by the Glebe area, that’ s definitely a café to check out.
Have a happy week ahead everyone despite the showers and gray clouds.
When Silence Defeats it's Purpose
January 4, 2011. 5:30 pm.
I received an email from an ex-colleague of mine. A devastating news that still haunts me even to this day.
When one goes through stress, depression and then the silence is unbearable....that thin line between breathing and letting go seems to recede into the temptations of taking one's life. Until, that in itself exhumes one's soul of living.
It was my first time to have known someone who got into the perils of that situation. I just heard of his death a day before his funeral. I think "sad" is an understatement. I was bothered. Nobody at first knew the cause of death. Until I received an email from one of our friends.
When breathing becomes an act of survival and not enough to justify one's existence, I guess death seems to be the only way to go....for some. I didn't ask for details...I guess I didn't want to. We all have our own limitations and ways of dealing with issues and problems. The sadness that comes from it is the question..Could anyone have saved him? am I even in the position to ask that question? Who am I to dare think that nobody ever tried?
What really confines a person to the thought of living and moving on? What urges us to wake up to mornings and look forward to another day? They say having a partner and your own family defines the ultimate need to live.. But how about those who are broken hearted nor needless to say, those who haven't even met a partner and is still lost in the crossroads of life?
emotion is what makes us human, they say. But what if you've hit the abyss of despair and the emotions are unbearable?
Earlier I wrote I felt the silence, which i connected to happiness and contentment.
I guess for this situation, his silence has defeated the purposes of peace...instead, it was the aftermath of his life's depression....
To my ex-colleague, mentor and friend... may your soul rest in peace. and wherever you are, I hope you find in your heart and soul to forgive everything/everyone, so you may find the peaceful silence you deserve.
I received an email from an ex-colleague of mine. A devastating news that still haunts me even to this day.
When one goes through stress, depression and then the silence is unbearable....that thin line between breathing and letting go seems to recede into the temptations of taking one's life. Until, that in itself exhumes one's soul of living.
It was my first time to have known someone who got into the perils of that situation. I just heard of his death a day before his funeral. I think "sad" is an understatement. I was bothered. Nobody at first knew the cause of death. Until I received an email from one of our friends.
When breathing becomes an act of survival and not enough to justify one's existence, I guess death seems to be the only way to go....for some. I didn't ask for details...I guess I didn't want to. We all have our own limitations and ways of dealing with issues and problems. The sadness that comes from it is the question..Could anyone have saved him? am I even in the position to ask that question? Who am I to dare think that nobody ever tried?
What really confines a person to the thought of living and moving on? What urges us to wake up to mornings and look forward to another day? They say having a partner and your own family defines the ultimate need to live.. But how about those who are broken hearted nor needless to say, those who haven't even met a partner and is still lost in the crossroads of life?
emotion is what makes us human, they say. But what if you've hit the abyss of despair and the emotions are unbearable?
Earlier I wrote I felt the silence, which i connected to happiness and contentment.
I guess for this situation, his silence has defeated the purposes of peace...instead, it was the aftermath of his life's depression....
To my ex-colleague, mentor and friend... may your soul rest in peace. and wherever you are, I hope you find in your heart and soul to forgive everything/everyone, so you may find the peaceful silence you deserve.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
I didn't really want to
i remembered 4 years ago when I said with conviction that I couldn't see myself living or moving to Australia. All because of the stereotyped Ozzie and the racism that they entail. And when it comes to racism, I can be super sensitive about it.
And look where I am now. Geez. That's why they say be careful, coz you might eat what you say.
Honestly, after a year of looking for a job here, and finally living in this society, I don't really know what will befall of me. All I know is I'm here for a reason.
I remember a friend of mine once told me that we only hang on to the saying "Everything happens for a reason", just for the sake of. But i beg to disagree. Our mere existence speaks loudly that we are here not just for ourselves and personal gain, but for a purpose. and that we are all entwined by a high power, to coexist. AS to how, and to what extent, I can't really say.
we can only attest to the "reason" ... in time.....and in Retrospect. When we glance back after the struggles or serendipity, that's when we realize a lof of situations which has actually brought us where we are right now.
Still, there lies the Freedom of Choice...as what God has bestowed upon us. But just as the writer Jonathan Livingstone has written in one of his acclaimed books, One....there's a parallel to each of the decisions we opt for.
For each choice we make, there's an avenue that slowly builds up. So wether we choose bad or good, it all entails a different future...
There is fate based on how we act and react. Laws of nature.
And so, here I am. slowly getting into the swing things. Creating a new life, a new chapter.
I guess that's what makes adults different from kids. When you watch kids get together, even if they dont' know each other, they don't know the term "hesitation"....rather, they just go for it and play. We adults, due to the widely known fact that experiences builds walls or maybe bridges for us, all of those of our past hones us into what and how we are towards other people.
Amazing...life..
And look where I am now. Geez. That's why they say be careful, coz you might eat what you say.
Honestly, after a year of looking for a job here, and finally living in this society, I don't really know what will befall of me. All I know is I'm here for a reason.
I remember a friend of mine once told me that we only hang on to the saying "Everything happens for a reason", just for the sake of. But i beg to disagree. Our mere existence speaks loudly that we are here not just for ourselves and personal gain, but for a purpose. and that we are all entwined by a high power, to coexist. AS to how, and to what extent, I can't really say.
we can only attest to the "reason" ... in time.....and in Retrospect. When we glance back after the struggles or serendipity, that's when we realize a lof of situations which has actually brought us where we are right now.
Still, there lies the Freedom of Choice...as what God has bestowed upon us. But just as the writer Jonathan Livingstone has written in one of his acclaimed books, One....there's a parallel to each of the decisions we opt for.
For each choice we make, there's an avenue that slowly builds up. So wether we choose bad or good, it all entails a different future...
There is fate based on how we act and react. Laws of nature.
And so, here I am. slowly getting into the swing things. Creating a new life, a new chapter.
I guess that's what makes adults different from kids. When you watch kids get together, even if they dont' know each other, they don't know the term "hesitation"....rather, they just go for it and play. We adults, due to the widely known fact that experiences builds walls or maybe bridges for us, all of those of our past hones us into what and how we are towards other people.
Amazing...life..
Friday, January 7, 2011
My Mr. Band Aid Man (Angel in Disguise)
To continue my story(as requested by Missy Foy)
I found myself the usual internet cafe near my office. Right along the wynyard station. a few flight of steps to the basement was where it all happened.
As you all know i've been torturing myself with my new black 2-inch heels. So that entailed a lot of blisters, both left and right. ew!
I didn't get his name. All I knew was he was the guy with the cute smile who would always wink. His eyes were so sweet and caring.
I borrowed the key to the toilet. He accompanied me instead, and put a paper roll. There were 2 there when I got it. dont know what the extra roll was for. Anyway, he saw me limping and asked if i was okay. Then I showed him the blisters. He looked concerned.
I walked back to my computer and gave back the key. There he was behind the counter with a box of band aids and a so hot smile. I smiled back, amazed.
He approached me and I reached out for the band aids. He signalled no, instead... kneeled and put the band aids on the wounds. WAHHHHHH. WHAT THE?!?!?!
I could smell his hair.....his eyes were so caring......and i said thank you....
My Angel in Disguise.
Before christmas, I left a note and a small token for him. I don't know how much of English he knows. But anyway, it didn't matter. I said....it's good to know that there are still people out there with genuine concern. :)
Maybe one of these days i'll try to pass by that internet cafe again :)
I found myself the usual internet cafe near my office. Right along the wynyard station. a few flight of steps to the basement was where it all happened.
As you all know i've been torturing myself with my new black 2-inch heels. So that entailed a lot of blisters, both left and right. ew!
I didn't get his name. All I knew was he was the guy with the cute smile who would always wink. His eyes were so sweet and caring.
I borrowed the key to the toilet. He accompanied me instead, and put a paper roll. There were 2 there when I got it. dont know what the extra roll was for. Anyway, he saw me limping and asked if i was okay. Then I showed him the blisters. He looked concerned.
I walked back to my computer and gave back the key. There he was behind the counter with a box of band aids and a so hot smile. I smiled back, amazed.
He approached me and I reached out for the band aids. He signalled no, instead... kneeled and put the band aids on the wounds. WAHHHHHH. WHAT THE?!?!?!
I could smell his hair.....his eyes were so caring......and i said thank you....
My Angel in Disguise.
Before christmas, I left a note and a small token for him. I don't know how much of English he knows. But anyway, it didn't matter. I said....it's good to know that there are still people out there with genuine concern. :)
Maybe one of these days i'll try to pass by that internet cafe again :)
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Sassy, Sexy, Successful and Single
Welcome to the world of Singledom!
I was walking along Pitt st. the other day and came across a second hand bookshop.
and then saw this amazing book. "How to be Sassy, Successful and Single" by an Australian writer Sue Ostler.
The world of Singledom.
I was smiling whilst reading the book. How smart and witty..words of encouragement that makes you realize that being single is not so bad after all.
I was walking along Pitt st. the other day and came across a second hand bookshop.
and then saw this amazing book. "How to be Sassy, Successful and Single" by an Australian writer Sue Ostler.
The world of Singledom.
I was smiling whilst reading the book. How smart and witty..words of encouragement that makes you realize that being single is not so bad after all.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
You Made My Day
There’s this song that I soulfully sing when my feelings hit the pinnacles of mixed emotions. Usually I would sing this in a church I would come across during my travels.. my own way of paying homage. Sometimes I sing it on top of a hill with curious sheep staring at me in the background. It has always been my way of talking to Him. I know that despite short of words to utter the appropriate adjectives to describe the pain/happiness, He would still understand…and hear it through the frailty of my voice.
This morning I passed by St. Andrews Church, a place that now serves as my sanctuary in Sydney.
The morning light beamed through the window pane, designed with lovely drawings. The silence was assuring and comforting.
I walked silently along the aisle and kneeled, whispered my thoughts…. And sang the song…..
It never fails to hit my emotions whenever I sing it. A widely known song by Gary Valenciano, “Lead Me Lord”.
I bowed my head and said my last prayer then stood up.
a lady was praying a few pews away from me. bEfore I could exit the church, she looked at me, and with teary eyes said, “Thank you. You made My Day”. I didn’t know what to say. I smiled and said “No worries”. Apparently, Whilst I was singing, she was there, listening. I didn’t have the guts to say everything will be okay. IT seemed cliché to utter those words. I wanted to pat her on the shoulder, a sign of saying….just have faith. But Instead, I respected her space. Whatever she’s going through, I hope and pray that she goes through it fine.
In a way, those words made my day too. Knowing that somehow, in my way of expressing my emotions, I’ve reached out to someone unknowingly.
There is beauty in coexisting……..
This morning I passed by St. Andrews Church, a place that now serves as my sanctuary in Sydney.
The morning light beamed through the window pane, designed with lovely drawings. The silence was assuring and comforting.
I walked silently along the aisle and kneeled, whispered my thoughts…. And sang the song…..
It never fails to hit my emotions whenever I sing it. A widely known song by Gary Valenciano, “Lead Me Lord”.
I bowed my head and said my last prayer then stood up.
a lady was praying a few pews away from me. bEfore I could exit the church, she looked at me, and with teary eyes said, “Thank you. You made My Day”. I didn’t know what to say. I smiled and said “No worries”. Apparently, Whilst I was singing, she was there, listening. I didn’t have the guts to say everything will be okay. IT seemed cliché to utter those words. I wanted to pat her on the shoulder, a sign of saying….just have faith. But Instead, I respected her space. Whatever she’s going through, I hope and pray that she goes through it fine.
In a way, those words made my day too. Knowing that somehow, in my way of expressing my emotions, I’ve reached out to someone unknowingly.
There is beauty in coexisting……..
Monday, January 3, 2011
Trust or not to Trust?
That is the question.
I can say I'm gullible. But i would also want to believe that there is still genuine care out there and initial intentions would not be malicious as such during the first few encounters.
He delivered my bed frame, picked me up from the hotel, carried my stuff and assembled the bed. Even helped me place the sheets.
At first he didn't have enough eye contact, which definitely told me something. His body language also gave me different signals. But I found him kind and harmless. I bought dinner and helped him assemble the bed whilst chatting.
I got the impression he just wanted to have someone to hang out with since his mates were all married and had kids. He's 41 and still living with his mom. Well, he said he moved back in after a 4-year relationship ended to capoot.
I don't know why I trusted him so much. The following day I ended up getting in the car and having a joyride the whole evening. 4-5 hours on the ride down south of Sydney. Crazy? yeah, that's what all my friends tell me. He showed me the outskirts of Sydney, where the Pacific waves crashed against the shores of Wollonggong. The sunset was amazing and I loved the fact that I could see more than just the city scapes of New south Wales.
I never heard back from him after I told him that he didn't need to drop by a tv stand anymore. That he has done so much already and I appreciate it.
Part of me got scared and glad that he hasn't contacted anymore. But part of me still think that he wasn't dodgy. Perhaps just lonely and needed company.
During those moments I was with him, I guess the need to feed that emptiness for him has given me the courage to join him in that road trip. Honestly, I think it was more of because I suddenly pictured myself at that age, possibly still single and couldn't even find someone else to enjoy the ride with.
At some point in life, regardless of the independence someone has, there will always be a point when you'd look at the passenger seat beside you, hoping that you could share the emotions or the awe in each sunset that you catch a glimpse on.
And when I saw the loneliness in his eyes, I don't know if it's right to say that I felt pity for him. Or perhaps, I can say, I pitied myself if in case I end up in the same spot 10 years from now.
one thing though i made it clear to him. I made sure that he didn't get an impression that we were on a date or something. I've got this 1 year rule. No dating, no falling in love, no crushes.
I can't. I can't afford to spoil this. This that I've started. The life that I want. Just Me. Loving myself to the fullest.not thinking of anyone else. not living up to expectations. Just mine. I can't let any heartbreak or ache spoil this anymore. I know at the end of the day everything would be based on what i choose to be. However, it's always easier said than done. I'd rather take a bite of the apple, and take precautionary measures. Protect myself and heal the wounds. only then would i be ready to love and share myself again.
As for him, I hope wherever he is, and if his intentions were good towards me..... that he's just fine....and would find himself the someone to share his sunsets with.
I can say I'm gullible. But i would also want to believe that there is still genuine care out there and initial intentions would not be malicious as such during the first few encounters.
He delivered my bed frame, picked me up from the hotel, carried my stuff and assembled the bed. Even helped me place the sheets.
At first he didn't have enough eye contact, which definitely told me something. His body language also gave me different signals. But I found him kind and harmless. I bought dinner and helped him assemble the bed whilst chatting.
I got the impression he just wanted to have someone to hang out with since his mates were all married and had kids. He's 41 and still living with his mom. Well, he said he moved back in after a 4-year relationship ended to capoot.
I don't know why I trusted him so much. The following day I ended up getting in the car and having a joyride the whole evening. 4-5 hours on the ride down south of Sydney. Crazy? yeah, that's what all my friends tell me. He showed me the outskirts of Sydney, where the Pacific waves crashed against the shores of Wollonggong. The sunset was amazing and I loved the fact that I could see more than just the city scapes of New south Wales.
I never heard back from him after I told him that he didn't need to drop by a tv stand anymore. That he has done so much already and I appreciate it.
Part of me got scared and glad that he hasn't contacted anymore. But part of me still think that he wasn't dodgy. Perhaps just lonely and needed company.
During those moments I was with him, I guess the need to feed that emptiness for him has given me the courage to join him in that road trip. Honestly, I think it was more of because I suddenly pictured myself at that age, possibly still single and couldn't even find someone else to enjoy the ride with.
At some point in life, regardless of the independence someone has, there will always be a point when you'd look at the passenger seat beside you, hoping that you could share the emotions or the awe in each sunset that you catch a glimpse on.
And when I saw the loneliness in his eyes, I don't know if it's right to say that I felt pity for him. Or perhaps, I can say, I pitied myself if in case I end up in the same spot 10 years from now.
one thing though i made it clear to him. I made sure that he didn't get an impression that we were on a date or something. I've got this 1 year rule. No dating, no falling in love, no crushes.
I can't. I can't afford to spoil this. This that I've started. The life that I want. Just Me. Loving myself to the fullest.not thinking of anyone else. not living up to expectations. Just mine. I can't let any heartbreak or ache spoil this anymore. I know at the end of the day everything would be based on what i choose to be. However, it's always easier said than done. I'd rather take a bite of the apple, and take precautionary measures. Protect myself and heal the wounds. only then would i be ready to love and share myself again.
As for him, I hope wherever he is, and if his intentions were good towards me..... that he's just fine....and would find himself the someone to share his sunsets with.
Coincidence
I was at the Stables on a New Year's Day. At my fave table, drinking my Stella.
From afar I heard a guy said, "that must be coincidence. She was also there. Same place where I was."
I couldn't help but to ponder. Coincidence. Perhaps it is. Hard to discern though. Often times people would want to think of it as a mere coincidence of events rather than indulge in the thought "meant to be". I guess men can shrug things off faster than women. Us girls love to dwell and fantasize in the idea that episodes like that would mean you are where you're supposed to be. And then that's where the love fairytale begins. yikes.
hellow?? knock knock. And that's when our "fall" begins.
From afar I heard a guy said, "that must be coincidence. She was also there. Same place where I was."
I couldn't help but to ponder. Coincidence. Perhaps it is. Hard to discern though. Often times people would want to think of it as a mere coincidence of events rather than indulge in the thought "meant to be". I guess men can shrug things off faster than women. Us girls love to dwell and fantasize in the idea that episodes like that would mean you are where you're supposed to be. And then that's where the love fairytale begins. yikes.
hellow?? knock knock. And that's when our "fall" begins.
My way of Christmas Eve
Unlike everyone, my Christmas Eve was soOoo eventful. Hmm, for a while there, I think that was an understatement.
Christmas Eve had 2 different visits to the Doctor.
1 in the morning found me buying 2 inhalers, 1 with steroids, and to top it up, I had to drink antibiotics. HA!
1 in the afternoon found me with 3 stitches on my index finger.
How's that for a Christmas Eve celebration???
Me, Myself and I....in Sydney.
oh, and don't forget my DVD's ;)
Christmas Eve had 2 different visits to the Doctor.
1 in the morning found me buying 2 inhalers, 1 with steroids, and to top it up, I had to drink antibiotics. HA!
1 in the afternoon found me with 3 stitches on my index finger.
How's that for a Christmas Eve celebration???
Me, Myself and I....in Sydney.
oh, and don't forget my DVD's ;)
That Was, and Is to be
I listened to the haunting sound of the harmonica and thought to myself at that very moment about all of the ideas and realizations I’ve been having for the past weeks. From afar I watched the gentleman place his lips on that small instrument and play. It was the same tune he performed on Christmas Day. That was just 5 days ago.
I wake up to mornings with the sound of a local bird yet to be researched as I haven’t familiarized myself with the Ozzie fauna. It would always be a distinctive call from outside my window as I stare at the dancing branches of my neighbours’ tree. It’s amazing how I’ve quickly blended in. My flexibility seemed to have peaked, perhaps a result from my collection of travels. On my fourth week, I’ve immediately attuned myself to my local suburb and established fave spots to make it homey for me.
There has been this silence for the past few days. I can’t even describe it. Maybe this is what they call peace of mind. Despite my shortage of funds and need to budget even the slightest expense, I still look around me and smile in gratitude. Every day when I get out of work and walk along Martin Place, listening to the buskers…. I carry that smile with me. I am full of Appreciation for this opportunity, support from my family and for the people who have helped me during my first few weeks, old and new friends and most especially those who I’ve tagged as my “angels in disguise”.
For how long can I sustain that smile is another whole dimension of “settling in” this society..possibly a question that I’m not ready to dwell in. I would say it’s all a matter of choice. For now, I’d like to enjoy this phase.
So how did I start this journey? What is there that I haven’t really written about that I don’t even know where to begin?
The first 2 weeks happened so fast. I arrived December 5, a Sunday. I Found myself lodged by my employer in the Northern part of Sydney, safe and posh, living up to its reputation.
Every morning I would catch the bus and stare at the beauty of the Opera House as we cross the Harbour Bridge. Wynyard Station has served as my focal point. The sound of my heels on the same sidewalk blended in with the hurried steps of other corporate employees.
I eventually learned the art of painting my face, or what they call “make-up”. Some days I still can’t believe that I’ve got myself getting used to it. The mascara, eyelash curler, lipstick, foundation and blush-on. Hey, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do right? Again, pinch me. I’m in Sydney. Long gone are the days when I could just put my hair up, wear my comfy worn-out sneakers and feel relaxed in my jeans. This time I have to wear my suite or office attire, 5 days a week. And that means punishing my feet with heels. All for the sake of fashion. One night it ended up all bruised, and an angel in disguise was so kind enough to kneel and place band-aids on my wounds.
For days I stressed looking for a flat. In retrospect, it took me a while to accept the fact that rental is ridiculously expensive in Sydney. I guess I should have asked the agents to Pinch Me as a reminder. I was supposed to have shared a flat with a family, which did not work out the way I expected it to. What’s funny about it was, I already pictured myself living in that house, looking forward to the funky eccentric design. My plans of moving out that 2nd weekend turned out to be an extension in the place where I was staying in. Don’t ask me how much they charged for that. They had me booked only till Christmas Eve. From then on I booked myself in a hostel in downtown.
Although I’ve had this realization in the past, from time and time again, there will always be the same episode that would make you go, “yup, here we go again”. When circumstances change out of your control and things don’t work the way you want it to, acceptance plays a major role and all you can do is have faith that there’s something else in store for you. It just doesn’t apply in major crossroads. I have adopted that kind of thinking on a daily basis, believing that things happen for a reason. Sometimes it takes a while though.
Survival. It has always been the key. I didn’t have enough time nor energy to dwell on what didn’t work out although I admit I got pissed off with that owner. All I knew was I had to find a place before new year. Settle in and chill from the stress of scouting for a flat. I ended up in a different suburb, Between 4-6 km southwest of CBD. In a span of a week and a half , I’ve learned to love the area. I’ve known it to be Forest Lodge, but apparently is widely identified as Glebe.
I’ve now found the local Video rental shop just a few meters from my place. The caretaker has started to recognize me now. Perhaps my frequent visits retained my face in his memory. Well, the DVD’s has kept me company this holiday season. I’ve also found myself my fave pub, The Stables. Just a hundred meters from my place too. On a hot sunny day when I’m up for a long walk from the other side of Glebe, I would get off the bus early and stop by the Stables. Grab myself a beer (the beer of the month is the cheapest), and find myself a spot away from the noisy crowd who would endlessly talk about sports. There in the corner, I would gulp my booze and read on my stuff.
To do groceries I would usually walk 2 km to the closest supermarket. I’ve tried different routes back and forth. One side you’ll see the beautiful University of Sydney, the other side you’ll enjoy the stroll along the café and bookshop culture along Glebe Pt. Road. Today I found myself an amazing coffee bookshop.
I’ve slowly learned to feel safe and comfortable in this area of Glebe. For the next 6 months this will serve as home. I’ve filled in my flat with the stuff that I want to have and go home to. A few things second hand, a few from boxing day sales and a coffee table that I’ve sneakily collected from my neighbours’ garbage collection. Haha. Of course, I couldn’t stop myself from buying candles too (oops).
My dream is slowly materializing. The picture that I’ve placed in my mind a year ago is now shaping to be my life. There has been so many things that I’ve listed to remind myself about the plans I’ve put in place for me as part of this journey. All I need to do is to put my heart, mind and soul into it. Not allowing anyone to spoil even a fraction of what I’m building right now. I describe this to be my bubble. And I hope I can keep it that way for now. Until the self-improvement phase that I want to achieve has culminated.
Right now, I hold on to the silence. I guess I can also call it the state of contentment and happiness.
I wake up to mornings with the sound of a local bird yet to be researched as I haven’t familiarized myself with the Ozzie fauna. It would always be a distinctive call from outside my window as I stare at the dancing branches of my neighbours’ tree. It’s amazing how I’ve quickly blended in. My flexibility seemed to have peaked, perhaps a result from my collection of travels. On my fourth week, I’ve immediately attuned myself to my local suburb and established fave spots to make it homey for me.
There has been this silence for the past few days. I can’t even describe it. Maybe this is what they call peace of mind. Despite my shortage of funds and need to budget even the slightest expense, I still look around me and smile in gratitude. Every day when I get out of work and walk along Martin Place, listening to the buskers…. I carry that smile with me. I am full of Appreciation for this opportunity, support from my family and for the people who have helped me during my first few weeks, old and new friends and most especially those who I’ve tagged as my “angels in disguise”.
For how long can I sustain that smile is another whole dimension of “settling in” this society..possibly a question that I’m not ready to dwell in. I would say it’s all a matter of choice. For now, I’d like to enjoy this phase.
So how did I start this journey? What is there that I haven’t really written about that I don’t even know where to begin?
The first 2 weeks happened so fast. I arrived December 5, a Sunday. I Found myself lodged by my employer in the Northern part of Sydney, safe and posh, living up to its reputation.
Every morning I would catch the bus and stare at the beauty of the Opera House as we cross the Harbour Bridge. Wynyard Station has served as my focal point. The sound of my heels on the same sidewalk blended in with the hurried steps of other corporate employees.
I eventually learned the art of painting my face, or what they call “make-up”. Some days I still can’t believe that I’ve got myself getting used to it. The mascara, eyelash curler, lipstick, foundation and blush-on. Hey, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do right? Again, pinch me. I’m in Sydney. Long gone are the days when I could just put my hair up, wear my comfy worn-out sneakers and feel relaxed in my jeans. This time I have to wear my suite or office attire, 5 days a week. And that means punishing my feet with heels. All for the sake of fashion. One night it ended up all bruised, and an angel in disguise was so kind enough to kneel and place band-aids on my wounds.
For days I stressed looking for a flat. In retrospect, it took me a while to accept the fact that rental is ridiculously expensive in Sydney. I guess I should have asked the agents to Pinch Me as a reminder. I was supposed to have shared a flat with a family, which did not work out the way I expected it to. What’s funny about it was, I already pictured myself living in that house, looking forward to the funky eccentric design. My plans of moving out that 2nd weekend turned out to be an extension in the place where I was staying in. Don’t ask me how much they charged for that. They had me booked only till Christmas Eve. From then on I booked myself in a hostel in downtown.
Although I’ve had this realization in the past, from time and time again, there will always be the same episode that would make you go, “yup, here we go again”. When circumstances change out of your control and things don’t work the way you want it to, acceptance plays a major role and all you can do is have faith that there’s something else in store for you. It just doesn’t apply in major crossroads. I have adopted that kind of thinking on a daily basis, believing that things happen for a reason. Sometimes it takes a while though.
Survival. It has always been the key. I didn’t have enough time nor energy to dwell on what didn’t work out although I admit I got pissed off with that owner. All I knew was I had to find a place before new year. Settle in and chill from the stress of scouting for a flat. I ended up in a different suburb, Between 4-6 km southwest of CBD. In a span of a week and a half , I’ve learned to love the area. I’ve known it to be Forest Lodge, but apparently is widely identified as Glebe.
I’ve now found the local Video rental shop just a few meters from my place. The caretaker has started to recognize me now. Perhaps my frequent visits retained my face in his memory. Well, the DVD’s has kept me company this holiday season. I’ve also found myself my fave pub, The Stables. Just a hundred meters from my place too. On a hot sunny day when I’m up for a long walk from the other side of Glebe, I would get off the bus early and stop by the Stables. Grab myself a beer (the beer of the month is the cheapest), and find myself a spot away from the noisy crowd who would endlessly talk about sports. There in the corner, I would gulp my booze and read on my stuff.
To do groceries I would usually walk 2 km to the closest supermarket. I’ve tried different routes back and forth. One side you’ll see the beautiful University of Sydney, the other side you’ll enjoy the stroll along the café and bookshop culture along Glebe Pt. Road. Today I found myself an amazing coffee bookshop.
I’ve slowly learned to feel safe and comfortable in this area of Glebe. For the next 6 months this will serve as home. I’ve filled in my flat with the stuff that I want to have and go home to. A few things second hand, a few from boxing day sales and a coffee table that I’ve sneakily collected from my neighbours’ garbage collection. Haha. Of course, I couldn’t stop myself from buying candles too (oops).
My dream is slowly materializing. The picture that I’ve placed in my mind a year ago is now shaping to be my life. There has been so many things that I’ve listed to remind myself about the plans I’ve put in place for me as part of this journey. All I need to do is to put my heart, mind and soul into it. Not allowing anyone to spoil even a fraction of what I’m building right now. I describe this to be my bubble. And I hope I can keep it that way for now. Until the self-improvement phase that I want to achieve has culminated.
Right now, I hold on to the silence. I guess I can also call it the state of contentment and happiness.
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