Cue the trapeze.

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Perspective pedals a tiny tricycle around a path of twists and tangles, while honking a cheery horn. With a wagon red smile and frizzy kissed hair, my eyes try looking beyond the paint. It’s well done but not waterproof.

I tried following its logic, but the only thing I ask is—where does my heart get to rest in all this. I’m sure it’s allied with time, but the importance of the latter can wait outside the door until further notice. Though, the ticking doesn’t stop or is anything but silent.

But what if all the confusion that Perspective brings could be cleared up with a bunch of balloons. We could even hold a candlelit ceremony at sunset, say thanks, and watch everything ascend gracefully. Of course, I would welcome the winds’ whispered favor.

Then again, I’m sure five seconds after a peaceful sendoff, the time that I had totally forgotten about and tried to ignore would come crashing in. If it had rung the doorbell, I wouldn’t have heard it, for the only thing that kept me sane is up there with the balloons.

Perspective can be right.

Perspective can be wrong.

Perhaps, Perspective deserves a lollipop for all that I put it through.

 

 

 

Blog #11

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My brain scrunches up in angst and slides down to the end of my nose. And all that I can do to calm it is by remembering that the year is still young. Very young, indeed.

Not sure when I became the too careful type.  I remember diving forward without hesitation. There was no fear to flop, just pure innocence. As I’ve reflected the past career aspirations, I’ve concluded to stop pining for what was hoped for.  Instead, it’s okay to become who I’d like to be now.

But alas, I’m stuck again.

I see all the big opportunities out there that would require big leaps. But at the moment, I don’t think I’m cut out for the giant ones just yet. I definitely approached a few last year, but something inside me wants to jump but within limits. There are all these connections that I want to hold onto. And, it seems beyond me to jump off without knowing why.

The thing about wanting change, even small ones, doesn’t it require to give up something? And this is where I become wishy washy. I want change, but I currently feel at home with my current lifestyle. It has some steadiness and consistency to it, while leaving room for spontaneity. The problem, even if change were to come, a part of me secretly hopes things aren’t too different. And I know I can’t have both, change and sameness.

On the days when the world looks too big to handle, maybe that’s when I should consider poking at the opportunities that are intimidating. Someone is bound to have kicks and giggles during those times, and I hope it’s me.

If anything, I should try to be more curious about life’s opportunities. Maybe I could pretend life is one big drive, waiting for me and my out-of-socket-brain to turn down a street just to see where it goes.

 

 

 

 

Sayonara, 2019!

 

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Admittedly…

Ever since the toad on my toilet incident, I can’t help but keep an eye out for more. I’m not scared of them, just wondering how likely it’d happen again.

But here’s to the end of another year. When I think about the highlights of the year, they actually sound like the cards picked up in a boardgame.

I won two tickets to see Les Misérables from a newspaper. I remember finding out last minute, how I begged my boss to let me go, how I scurried to grab the tickets before the office closed, and how a plan was constructed under two hours.

My car went to the shop, and they let me borrow the biggest truck on the lot for a week.

I reunited with some relatives, and later went on a cruise where I saw my sister getting married. Same year, I saw an old friend also getting hitched.

I went on a solo trip and humorously, yet awkwardly, ran into one of my music heroes on the streets. Coming home after that, I ran into a lull in life and found reasons to sneak off occasionally to catch a concert or show.

I started learning a new language. And I love it. It’s bringing out different sides of me.

I played the violin only once this year as a guest player. And no one guessed it had been three years since I had played a note.

I even clashed with the dating scene a little bit.

Lastly, I went through numerous kinds of rejections that have strengthened and made me ready to take on new ones.

Here’s to not just a new year, as every year starts new. But here’s to…

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Admittedly, I’m not sure!