Somedays, a head’s a heavy burden.

WorldO

I feel dusty.

Like the salt and pepper keys that have stayed quiet for sometime now.

In a black tomb like a fellow fiddle.

Other strings are where I last left them, secured on the sidelines.

 

Maybe I’m caked with doubt and insecurities.

I see the world around me changing, though I know

I’m still uncertain.

I see all the things I am and not.

But why should I care for this eternal wallow?

 

If there’s anything I can currently live for,

It’s every deep breath.

For that’s when I restart.

The battle to keep what I want continues.

I may be resting,

But I’m not done.

 

 

After living it out successfully, I end the day with a paper cut on my elbow from running into a wall calendar.

CappO

It’s been one of those days where a soda, some chocolate covered peanuts, and a hot dog in a toasted poppy seed bun were for lunch, and a coffee and cake were a dinner’s appetizer. My metal water bottle was also threatened of being thrown away, as it was considered a potential weapon. Thankfully, no one lost their fingers. And fun fact: I somehow snuck off mid-morning for a mini adventure, and I didn’t come back until nine hours later. It was also a day where if I had tried taking pics, they wouldn’t have truly caught all the beauty that was witnessed. Some adventures really are meant to just enjoy, as if made only for the soul’s pleasure.

If I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought I was back in NYC. Maybe it was how the streets were numbered like avenues. Or how my nose was intrigued by fried chicken in the midst of people and city odor. I also came across a construction site where the sidewalk tunneled under a metal bridge and the sound of hammers argued above. The map on my phone even malfunctioned, and I ended up needing to ditch it and use headsmarts.

I even found the same bakery chain as I had adored in NYC. Except, the store found today was at least ten times bigger than the shoe box sized venue from last month. It had the same foods and decoration style, but somehow the vibe felt tiring.

And for the first time in several years, I got so twisted lost on the way home from my little day venture. If I hadn’t taken a few wrong turns, I would’ve been home an hour earlier. And you know what? I think I also got bamboozled by my GPS. And that too hasn’t happened in several years. The route I was following took me in different loops and u-turns that I later learned weren’t necessary.

And guess what? I get back home late, and no one questions where I’ve been. There was all this hype on the way home of what I’d share, and if all would be excited to hear of the mini day trip.

I might sound like I’m complaining, but today really was a good day. I somehow experienced NYC and the old I-got-super-lost-on-the-way-home me in the same day. It was an unexpected, frustrating combination, but it worked out. I forgot what it was like to get messy lost and to laugh victoriously when I figured out how to come out of it.

❤ Goodnight!

 

 

My trip to NYC, and yesterday morning’s bathroom guest.

fallOwww.theweetravelbug.blog

Today, I look back at how different two weeks can be. As last Friday had me in the middle of vacation, this past Friday morning was welcomed with a blood-curdling scream. Sleepy eyes and seconds after lifting the toilet lid, I realized that the porcelain throne was already taken. The gray fuzzy blob was a TOAD! The good news: it was the only one seen yesterday, as I consciously became the toad patrol of all toilets that came my way.

Perhaps it was a needed scream. Reality was truly back, and I did a great job this week resuming my work life and pretending not to have vacation withdrawal syndrome.

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So, I’ve recently come back from New York City, and I had the best time possible. For a city whose soundscape is composed of frequent sirens, loud chatter, and other general street noise, I still found moments of peace and gained better self-perception. I learned that if I really want something, I’m willing to make it happen.

As I look back on all the iconic spots, statues, and buildings, I smile at the little details like sitting on a train and being surrounded by five languages talking all at once—none of which were English. I also ran into one of my music heroes on the streets, only to be kicking myself later that I didn’t say anything. I will forever remember how we both stopped, smiled, and nodded at each other.

There was also a bagpipe player on the subway. And at Central Park, there was a man on a bicycle singing karaoke, “Prince Ali, yes it is he, Prince Ababwaaa!” He even had his own mic, amp, and music track. Why isn’t biking karaoke-ing an actualy thing?

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A week later, and my calves have recovered from all the feet travel between the walks. From the two hour coffee shop hunt to the two hour Central Park hike, I victoriously attended a Carnegie Hall concert in a cleanly state the same night. It was miraculous to have squeezed in a shower beforehand, for the NYC winds had covered me in dirt and all kinds of smells beforehand, some which I unfortunately inhaled.

But all the dust in the nose didn’t stop me from having a blast. My soul still hums the goosebump-filled serenades from the Hall, and it’s still infatuated by all the sightseeing from those few days.

By the time I returned home, I was a bit shocked. The hushed traffic and the absence of all other sounds questioned my ears. I also noticed my quick impatience with the slowest drivers and walkers in the world. To start the day in a different state and to end it in another challenged how quickly I could adapt to diverse environments.

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This was the first big trip that I single-handedly planned from beginning to end. And it tested me in different areas like travel planning, decision making, and instinct. The personal wins included finishing all work in advance, arriving to destinations on time, and resolving issues when technology wasn’t working half the time.

I thank up above for helping me make it through all nine yards. To go to NYC not knowing a soul was an adventure in itself.

Most importantly, the whole trip was frog-free.

 

 

 

 

The phrase “Use your time wisely” has never sunk in until recently.

WoodsEdited

I’ve been going through a phase of guilt.

The things I’ve liked doing, I’ve stopped.

I’ve stopped music.

I’ve stopped dancing.

I’ve just stopped everything.

Anything I’ve started in the last five years, I haven’t finished or continued with.

And I keep going through that cycle of starting and stopping. I start playing or moving, and I remember how good I was. And then the guilt of stopping kicks in. I think the source is knowing that I’d be better now, if I hadn’t stopped. Cause maybe secretly, having a life filled with the stuff I like sounds truly great. If not a job, just to be enveloped in it all the time.

I could tumble endlessly into the excuses of why I keep quitting. Yes, life happens. Yes, responsibilities increase. Yes, time moves on, waiting for nobody.

When I was in school, I remember running into adults who said phrases like, “I used to do…” or “I used to be great at…” And I remember thinking that that could never happen to me. And that I would do everything to avoid living that way.

But don’t get me wrong.

I haven’t stopped fighting for the things I want.

But you know what?

In order to fight, you have to know your cause.

And I think I’ve temporarily lost it.

The whole “I’m lost!” thing really sticks sometimes.

 

 

 

 

4am insomnia.

Leaf

No two days are alike. The times I hoped for sameness, I don’t know why I had the slightest expectations for predictability. Because as much as we can control ourselves, anything beyond is beyond our control. We cannot change the weather or the pebbles that get blown at our feet. We intercept them, somehow become a part of their day. But in the end, we’re in charge of where we step, how we react, and what we filter.

For better or worse, we let things come into our lives, but we also block what we dislike. And depending on the day, depends on what we decline. These tendencies are probably why our days are always changing. We’re the captains or the kings of our lives. And somehow, the rest of the day meets us halfway. As the day clearly has its plans, and I have my own, it’s a hit or a miss when we come together.

What do we accept or reject for the day. If feeling great, maybe we disagree with anything negative about ourselves. And on a day feeling down, we’re inclined to push away any positive remarks. Maybe we intended to push them aside for an even rainier day, but somehow we forget to remember.

But if a day is the same as yesterday, does that mean all elements remain the same. Would a same day mean that the same amount of time passes, but no one even ages. For better or worse, that’d mean we didn’t change, that we’re powerless. And I think that’s worse than having the two same days.

For the cost of aging, I’d change for the world. Cause if there are two bad days in a row, I hope to not react the same as yesterday. And if there is a great day tomorrow, I hope I’d be ambitious enough to make it even greater.

For the love of curiosity!

WhiteYamahaFix

Mischief struck me.

The cruise ship docked, and the travelers left for their destinations. But what I cared about wasn’t out there. Staying aboard, I headed to a grand sunlit room where the welcoming doors were quite inviting.

As I hoped for an empty ship, I knew the reality was still better than most times. I assumed that the few who occupied the room weren’t threatening.  The travelers chilled with their drinks, and the bartender looked quite tame. Walking past their slumped backs and pretending to be interested in the windows, I turned around to face heart’s desire. I dared to lift the lid quietly with a finger.

Blasted. 

The piano was locked.

Laughter rippled through my body and was followed by the nerves that set free. I no longer needed them. The ship’s crew must have seen me coming. And guess what? The people in the room remained perfectly oblivious. At least I didn’t try the piano in the ship’s foyer. Though, it was tempting cause I saw that one first. Now I understand why some pianos are left unguarded.

As I imagined what I would’ve played, I also fantasized its consequences resulting in a blaring alarm or a crumbling ship. The mission seemed so important, and the thrill was in the risk.

But the important thing is that I survived so to continue laughing in my wiser days.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

hELLOOO, OUT THEERRE (there, there, theerre)!!!

 

BugHwyFix1Life has honestly been a blast! But…

Getting lost is one thing, but being lost is another. And it’s the latter that has been with me my whole life. As it has gradually increased in weight, it’s become the mission closest to my heart.

So, here I am still checking out life but choosing to blog about it this time. Maybe I’ll find inspiration to share here and there, and hopefully sharing reflections will alleviate the journey. From wandering around this whole time, I’ve come to notice that if you’re lost in one aspect of life, it spreads to other parts.

But honestly.

What’s an adventure without getting lost? When I’ve taken a wrong turn or have curiously gotten lost, at least several trips come to mind that were made better because of the unexpected events. In fact, it’s the experiences from getting lost on the road where I learn the most but also find self.

* * *

BugDoodleFrontMy love for adventuring began when my parents gave me a GPS on my 18th birthday. But man, God only knew how much I would need that! Because as soon as I passed my driver’s test, having it in my back pocket gave me the confidence to surf the road. Call it a lucky feather or whatever, but I honestly don’t know how I would’ve gotten home from a multitude of driving adventures.

When GPSes were car swag to save up for, they also had the reputation of being flaky. If I didn’t get lost on my own, it was because of an inaccurate map. One trip, I was steered so wrong to where I found myself driving up to an abandoned warehouse— I was trying to find an ICE SKATING RINK! And the friend who was brave to have me drive us? We STILL laugh about it.

Another trip, my GPS had me looping around an interstate a few times, insisting that IKEA was among the noon rush hour. The friends who were with me then also still laugh about it. Though, it would’ve been cool if there was at least a couch sitting in the middle of the road.

Same GPS, but entering downtown work life— I somehow took a different route home everyday for THREE months. I didn’t know the area really well, the lanes and drivers weren’t so accommodating, and if there was a way out of congested traffic, I took it. Those days usually ended with cool landmarks I came to appreciate and stories to share the next day.

Nowadays, I’ve become best friends with Google Maps (though I still keep my GPS for luck). What hasn’t changed is my adventurous side. I’ve just become a little more mature and prepared these days. A recent day trip, I packed a bag so that I could drive randomly and see where I ended up. Five hours later, persevering to a beautiful beach inspired a glorious nap on the sand and a time for much needed reflection. By the time I got home that night, my then housemates could’ve assumed I was coming home from work. If I was used to enjoying paradise everyday, then sneaking off for an unplanned beach trip wouldn’t have been as spectacular.

* * *

From decently getting lost on the road, whether by accident or on purpose, I’ve learned it’s wise to pull over so to adjust your strategy. And I believe that’s where I’m at with life now. I’ve pulled off to the side to figure out my next moves.

So, as I attempt to use this space for motivational purposes and for soul searching, welcome to my little corner! ^_^

❤ Laters.