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airplane healing pains.

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An airplane signifies so many unknowns, so many variables, with a constant ‘ me ’. An anxious fear surges from the pit of my stomach, always questioning whether I’ll ever be strong enough to deal with the discomfort of newness. My breaths are sharp here, in the transition, heading towards the side of practical realms. I’m scared of what is left to heal to embrace my ideals. What if I’m not able to withstand the healing pains and sheddings? A few tears trickle by, summer stillness shedding, leaving me vulnerable and bare in the act itself. It’s endearing to witness and disconcerting to feel. Where will I be next summer? How would it be like to be a year older towards the person who has been gifted so many daylight dreams? I’m back to the solitude of my essence. The realisation that most of my journeying is done in darkness, pain and cycles— upon completion, they radiate a revealing light that serves and heals. But not before the transmutation, not before the healing, not before the ferv...
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A Matter of Strength.

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As much as I believe my intuition is a virtue, in my society, it's often taken as granted. In order to win, I need to act tough. I need to act as if I'm invincible. I need to act whatever happens doesn't affect me. More that I used the word 'act' instead of be, and that is where the problem comes. I cannot act, I can only be. And even those times I act in, I fail hideously.   The other day, I was supposed to meet a teacher to pick up some work materials. We were supposed to meet on a specified hour in some place. 5 minutes before, I was already in the venue, waiting as usual. Half an hour passed, and she did not come. I called, she said there was traffic but it was already clearing up.. she promised me another fifteen minutes. So I waited. I waited for an hour and a half. I was forced to leave because I was in the car, sweating and getting a sun stroke, with the temperature at its highest peak for the day. My dad, of course, was nervous...
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Recent Things I'm Grateful For.

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I have always believed that the little moments were the ones to most cherish for the astounding way they make us feel fulfilled and alive. However, I don't know what happened that made me quite focused on attaining the bigger things and trying to perfect my own character which kept me off-track. Back again to my true self, I can inherently declare that it is the little things that allow us to experience sheer joy and content. It's not the goals we reach, it's the journey we decide to embark, which constitutes the little habits that we carry out every single day.   We always want to change to the better; to be more graceful, kind, loving and grounded. There's no better way capturing this than quietly thinking about what we are truly grateful for. I have some goals, many actually. I am quite future-focused (which is not always a great thing), but it occurred to me that I'd rather enjoy the journey towards my ideals, chasing them with fulfilment, love and p...
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intentions of 2025: a foundational year.

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hello, 2025. I welcome you in my arms, receiving your brand new beginning where I can rewrite the story of my life path. here I am, a woman in so much need of something so terribly new so that I can forget everything about my past and start as someone new. yes, someone new. that is not a typo. there’s so much we need to change around here and I am onto it, make little baby steps as we slide into this year’s seasons. despite all that is there to change, I am grateful that the gift of visualising the year and crafting new intentions is not one of the things on my list. that could stay, along with creating vision boards for all of the beautiful dreams floating in the landscape of my heartful desires. I wish you could see my vision board. it involves a splash of watercolours, piano melodies, the dream of raising a kitten and starting my journey in gardening. also, a travelling spree to where there is a calling sea and perhaps, an umrah. my dreams are nascent, but their vibe are preparing m...
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what am I grieving?

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those days are heavy on my heart. a constant resistance to that uncanny feeling of grieving something I am not even sure I am aware of. there’s this loss of something profound, living in the unknown and plunging myself into valleys of hope every single day, just to be failed by their condescending stillness. I’m not sure why I’m sad, but it’s like I’ve lost myself. it’s like I’m grieving the loss of the life I’ve always known. sitting down by the tombstones of my coping mechanisms that don’t make sense in my world now. feeling the suffering of not having something to worry about or be scared of. they say that depression comes to show us what we’ve been repressing all along, a slowly-brewed suffering ripening. my mind keeps finding ways to resist this sadness and change its ways.  my soul tells me to feel it, to be it. my sadness is relentlessly self-sabotaging, isolating and it knows exactly how to constrict the universe into a set of known routines and familiar sounds. it validat...
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