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Monthly Archives: April 2016

There is this nagging itch to break all these walls that keep me from living in my own terms. I do have the freedom to chase my dreams and abandon the daily grind for another daily grind that I would give the world just to enslave myself. I have the choice to look past the traditionally valued tenure and security and just go ahead. It’s my life.

I have the freedom to chase my dreams, fickle and always in flux as they may be. Nothing is settling down until I want to. I’ve said this before, I will constantly run away until everything feels right. If nothing feels right, I’ll turn left.

I am young. I could just take the road until everything hits home. Some might say that I may lose sight of what’s more important because of immersing too much in the present and giving too much into my ever so fleeting dreams. Why? What’s more important? An imaginary future? I think not.

To dream is to be alive. I don’t know about you but when I think of the things that I have always loved doing and that they could feed me and I could do them for the rest of my life? There’s a burning in my heart. My blood runs cold in the best way possible.

Going after dreams might be another story. A flop, maybe. With more heartbreaks, sure. But you know what, I could try another thing or maybe try again. I could go on just crossing out words on my list and then extend my list some more with new words or just the same old words with modifications. Or warnings.

If nothing works, I can cry for a day and be miserable. I can go through that blackhole of self-loathing and sadness. I can cave in to that big fat I TOLD YOU SO! I can. I can because I have a heart that feels and tear ducts that work. But I won’t because I know that my rebellion is not meant for misery but for success.

Exactly. It’s my life.

Yesterday, he took me out to dinner. It was just the usual. We stared at the menu with intent even if we already knew what we want, vaguely. The lady took our order and then there was silence. The kind that you would want to bask under. He felt the same about the silence, I’m sure.

The forks and knives always go to the side because we always eat with our hands. The little plates as well because we always eat from the bigger plate. We share tea and hold the cup by the mouth. We eat in silence, slouched and elbows on the table.

It’s too easy, comfortable, and very quiet. At worst, the sight might be a crime to some. An eyesore, perhaps. But we continue careful of nothing because this is how we are. Some won’t understand which is a beautiful assurance of what we always knew; that our love is something that only the two of us understand.