college, personal, Uncategorized


I found myself lying, face drooping into the slopes of my pillow, weighed down by all the things I should probably be doing and the things I wish I was doing. My uneven posture and tense legs strain from clenching and releasing early this morning from when I was taking my driver’s for the second time. Later, I struggled to cover the rose of my frost-bitten cheeks with multiple layers of foundation. It still shone through, a harsh and unapologetic bloom.

I tend to find myself fleeting from one place to the next, eagerly checking off the menial things off my diary for comfort. Put money into the bank. Check the dates for performance. Get some groceries–especially some salad. I should really get into that. I then crash into bed when they are done, feeling strangely unaccomplished and disconnected to my self.

I picked off the pieces of my body, the mangled individuals cast here and there over the bed. Recollected myself, and gathered together a self that can writes. I try to make meaning of the empty space. No matter how many times I try to keep my desk clear of the clutter, my pens and books with stickers and orange peels litter the top, and stay there until someone else enters.

I see a message pop up from my friend. We find solace in each other. There are friends you meet in blurs to pass messy nights with, and others with whom you reach out for in the darkness, meandering the unknown hills and edging around the crevices. I talk again about my feelings. She returns the same. I feel that there are many of us out there tonight–we are not lost, but just waiting for the winter to pass us over.


adventure, Blogging, personal, Writer

Procrastination, staying motivated and other ills

I am a twenty-something, kinda-Asian, kinda-artsy, kinda-lost-and-clueless college student. What a solid introduction, but that is the best summary of my current and more-so on going situation. I am not lazy, I am moderately hard working and moderately willing to take risks. Yet, so often I find myself in bed, crushed under the weight of all the assignments I want to do well in and things I want to discover.

Then I take a brief nap, and blame it on my food coma. I doodle in my journal about avante garde art, and reminisce a century that challenged everyone and everything to art for art’s sake. I sit on my desk, begin rearranging the mess that I’ve made during the peak of my motivation levels, and open my computer to type. I find myself opening Quora and Tumblr and Facebook, and eventually, WordPress. And so I type. And begin to realize that there seems to be a recurring pattern to what I prefer to do in my free time, or rather, things that I pursue despite having none.

The other day I posted a question on Quora, beseeching the Quora greats on how to keep motivated, how to remain inspired and how to continue writing. I’ve never fully considered writing to be a career choice, despite my habitual ramblings that I mindlessly share in all my social media platforms. I don’t want to label myself as a writer and have expectations, judgments and criticism, and stick closely to “snippets” in which my thoughts and its translation into a flow of words, best comes across. The answer was simple. Embrace it fully. Writing and words do not come by without effort, and in most cases, comes as an exorcism of emotions not so much for any other true benefit besides the soul. Art for art’s sake.

I want to though. Desperately.

Ever since I began this private blog site, a miserable teen on Christmas day in a cold, unlit room in Harare, Zimbabwe, I had the simple goal of writing and creating and putting something out there that would not have much significant meaning to anyone really besides myself. Slowly, my number of followers increased, and as I began searching for other like-minded blogs, I tried to do multiple things–house reviews, shopping hauls and the sort. Things that would increase my views and make me feel established.

“I”, the metaphysical ego.

Since then, my writing became even more erratic as it became a chore rather than an open forum where I could sort through my emotions and make meaning of the flashes. Rather than simply reverting this passion into the simple blogger I was 3 years ago, I want to reform, and begin to reveal the raw edges of myself again.

I’m back.


The Beginning of the End

It’s been a real while since I’ve blogged anything, and well now I can afford to because it’s the day before the end of school, the end of my junior life, the beginning of the end of highschool. I can’t believe that I’ve grown up so much, which is hardly in the literal sense but more of the addition of numbers. I don’t feel much older or any more maturer than the cooing dog lover that I am. I don’t take things too sensibly and I still am more driven by my emotions than any logical sense. It’s one year left before I’m off to college and living independently, and it’s quite intimidating; mostly because I thought by now I would know what I wanted to do and where I wanted to go with my life. Taking the IB curriculum is no joke, and I scoff at myself when I believed that they were exaggerating when they called the IB the most difficult highschool curriculum in the world…but holidays are near, and I have some time on my hands so why not.

Nothing much has happened really, except I feel that becoming the next senior has made me more content and self assured. As I’m preparing for college, this has required me to take several ‘big’ tests that I always used to chide seniors for complaining about…the SAT’s, TOEFL, TOPIK, SAT II etc. This has given me the air of senior superiority, and rightly so! All these stresses and challenges are not something to be taken granted for, as work is for the father and housework for the mother. Students face numerous challenges, personal challenges, educational challenges and social challenges when they attend high school, and more often than not their stuggles (our struggles) are denied and dismissed like they’re trivial. Which they are sometimes, but I solemnly swear that I will listen when my children speak to me. Because often than not, they’re sly, desperate pleas for help and attention which they will start looking for in the wrong places if not tended to.

I just write so much, and type so quickly when I’m on a roll. (I’m on this roll now). Yesterday my friend’s ex was involved in a car accident and died. Here in Zimbabwe, where drunken immature teenagers are allowed driving permits, I think that we have lost atleast one student every year, all throughout my high school years. Problem? Problem.  No one should lose someone so dear to them to something to preventable as a car accident. Luckily, I haven’t been close to any of them but my heart breaks for anyone who lost a close member of their family.

Nowadays, I find myself immersed in mindless social networking sites like facebook and twitter, rather than doing some meaningful soul searching or picking up a good book. During the past semester, I’ve been driven in my school work and trying to catch up with the curriculum; it has been challenging where I’ve been constantly guilt tripping myself when I wasn’t doing anything related to school.

Really, junior life is so busy and it’s terrifying to think that I will be sending college applications in less than four months. I really hope I get into the school that I want to get into, which is the Yonsei University in Korea. This is my dream, (unfortunately for many others to) and with this goal in mind I’ve been tirelessly slaving away for my scores and for my gpa. This is especially challenging with my rigorous and diverse curriculum with these internal assessments and further oral activity- one of the many (tedious) highlights of the IB curriculum.

Sometimes I get so stressed and worn down by the expectations that others have of me, and those that I have of myself. I know I am more than capable of achieving my dreams if only I continue working for them. This is something I hope to continue to, even if it gets hard and unbearable, I must persevere.


Thank you. (?) haha