In the mishmash of words running in and out of my brain, nothing stays put. They're all hardheaded babies that wail and then randomly burst into puddles of sticky blasted bubbles that dries up, leaving traces that are never really bound to get noticed. I want to write. I want to write endlessly and aimlessly every feeling, every idea, every quirk, every thought, every opinion I have on countless number of things. Just everything and anything that comes out of me.
This is the struggle I fight with every time I pause and sort myself to write. I usually start making drafts in my phone. Some of the few I currently have were drafted months ago and have never coursed its way to this blog. I don't know, but after a paragraph and several bulleted phrases, I hit a wall. I try to bump my way out but fail, and the sentences I carry crumble lifelessly on the floor. I guess this goes the same with my dreams. I am the type of person who is blithely unconcerned in setting up goals. I have a list of things I want to do but there's nothing really solid that makes me determined to thrive for it every day.
I always ask myself what the hell's wrong with me. The answer's pretty simple. I am that wall that hinders me from accomplishing things. Hm, how do I put this? I don't act. I think, formulate and write down things I want to do and once they're laid out, all I do is stare and think further. I should hammer down my head, don't you think? Another thing is that I choose to be mediocre. I see a lot of people my age who have already proven their worth and are happily working on their passions. The number of bloggers/artists alone (most of whom I regularly follow!) are enough for me to slap myself awake. Have you heard of the 23-year old mayor of Palawan? Oh lord, what am I doing with my life?
Last Sunday, I had an epiphany. I saw myself geared in plaid pants, chef's jacket and toque, working in a bustling kitchen. There was a rush of déjà vu that was spine-tingling and downright wonderful. It then hit me. I know I haven't been active in the kitchen as I used to, but this is what I really want to do. It's the passion that's been hibernating somewhere inside me, one that I'm very much aware of. I'm so happy that it's finally finding it's way back out.
I'm writing this down as a mid-year reflection.
These two things, writing and culinary, are pretty much my frustrations and what I'll focus more on henceforth. The culinary track might take years for me to save up on but goddamnit, it's gonna happen!
Along with this post, I'm listing down things I should start doing:
- turn beautiful wants into needs and act on them
- think about the pleasures I'll gain from doing something instead of muttering "I won't lose anything by not doing it"
- take things (including myself) seriously
- ignore the 'what ifs'- start saying 'why not?'
Lastly, a healthy reminder to myself: Anne, finish your shit.
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