The middle of January of this new year went by in a daze, armed with promises dipped in glitters of rose and gold. That and a couple of books read. My penchant for horror has not diminished and it looks like a part of me is dead set on getting some exercise afters years of
lazy, sloth-like sedentary lifestyle. It’s too early to say anything as if it’s set in stone. A part of me still fears and worry that this year will pull awful stunts on me yet again, but a bigger part of me refuses to cave in to that fear. Entertaining thoughts of it is one thing. But dwelling on it and letting it hold me back is a different thing altogether. If 2016 taught me something, resilience is one of them. And I am grateful for that.
“Some men never
and some men never
but we’re all alive
— Charles Bukowski, 1813 – 1883
Little bits and pieces of my life, myself have been rearranging quietly. And I like that. I like the feeling of moving forward. It’s exhilarating and freeing. I have always been the type of person who needs to feel good inside before manifesting it physically, if not in tangible ways. I can never be that person who dresses up well while feeling like shit. I mean, if I feel awfully awful… Let’s just say that if I could get away with it, I would put on a makeshift dress consisting of newspapers and glue (and it’s not even the colored or glitter type of glue) and pair it with slippers made with cardboard and colored strings. With that in mind, together with all the lessons I have learned last year, I try to become more conscious of the projects I choose to throw myself into. And while I am not busy shuffling towards my personal goals, I dive into these: