In the middle of August, I read something online about this thing called "Morning Pages". The rule is to write 3 pages every morning about anything under the sun. It doesn't have to be good. You don't even have to read it. Its goal is to eliminate what's blocking your creativity. What's blocking what you actually want to write. It gets rid of your word vomit so creativity can come out and slap itself on paper.
I started in the middle of August. Since it's now the 31st, I decided to read my word vomits for the latter half of August. I wasn't writing every single day (and I usually write every night) so I only had 16 pages to read.
I noticed that in between all the mess (word vomit), there were parts that really made a lot of sense. There were parts that rose above all the shit. There were parts that really hit home.
08-11:
My shit didn't seem as shitty as their shit. My shit didn't even seem like legit shit.
The person causing the problem, I thought, was also the cure for how horrible I was feeling.
08-12:
...That day felt like his day. It was like he was controlling the course of my day.
I woke up the next day feeling all fucked up. Fucked up but wanting to continue the dream still because sometimes, I'd rather endure hell knowing that he'll be there with me.
08-13:
I always think about him whenever my world stops. Whenever I do the most boring and empty things in my life.
And it kinda slapped me in the face because while I'm forgetting about him, he's also forgetting about me.
And whenever you're breaking a person's heart, I've learned, you have to be cruel.
08-14:
I think at the end of the day, you just gotta love what you decide to do for the rest of your life.
08-15:
There's this birthday card that had resurfaced my desk because Tita Evelyn cleaned it... I actually don't know why I didn't send it... For some reason, I just didn't feel like it.
08-17:
...when your heart breaks, it also breaks your self-worth. It brings you down and crushes your confidence.
08-19:
I was just afraid he'd message me or something. We're doing too well for either of us to contact the other. Glad he didn't. Kinda...
08-31:
I hate surprises. I hate him just popping without notice.
When will the pain stop?! When will time kick in and start doing its job?
Whatever happened between us already makes sense to him. He already learned something from what happened. I'm still working on my lesson to learn from all this shit.
I'm now looking forward to making this a habit this September. Things that come out of these Morning/Night Pages are very interesting. By writing and reading them, I'm getting to know myself bit by bit. It's a start in piecing my self-worth back together. It's a start towards loving myself again.
And I promise I will have different topics to write about this time.
Showing posts with label night rituals. Show all posts
Showing posts with label night rituals. Show all posts
Monday, August 31, 2015
Monday, September 1, 2014
Goodbye Sad Songs and Isolated Islands
My iPod and book JUST got stolen. My almost 10-year old iPod and my friend's (whoops. SORRY!) mangled copy of The Lord of the Flies JUST got stolen. My two bestfriends during my commute every morning and night. Now gone.
Every morning, I listen to my iPod to drown all the thoughts in my head. Thoughts that make me feel like a zombie again. They say time heals everything. It's been quite a while and I'm still here. I listen to music to make the time bearable. To trick my head that I'm moving along with time. It kinda works because before I know it, I'm already in the office. Without the memory of how I got there.
Every night, I read my book while waiting in line for the shuttle home. I read to transport myself to a world where you don't exist. Where I am just living vicariously with the characters in the book. Where even just for a while, I won't be in pain. I can conquer the world alongside the main character and forget you. For a while. I can't read in the shuttle so I close my book and you appear again. I miss you and I'm back from where I started.
The next day, I do the same. This has been my routine for almost 2 months. I'm tired.
One of my bestfriends (human one) asked me, "What do you want? What do you want from him? Do you wanna be with him?"
"No, I don't wanna be with him. Not exactly. I wanna feel that I'm actually worth an awkward conversation. That I'm worth the effort. Because I couldn't handle not being his favorite person. I want him to wanna talk about the real stuff. The hard stuff. I just wanted to be worth something to him, you know? I wanna say sorry. It was stupid how I broke down and didn't explain. I'm always ready to jump off a sinking ship without thinking who I'm gonna leave behind. I did what I did because I didn't wanna lose him. But I guess losing him was inevitable." is what I should've said. But the too-proud-inarticulate-not-wanting-to-explain me just said, "I don't know."
These are the thoughts that I have to drown every morning and night. Now I don't have anything to drown them with. To the hipster robber who stole my 10-year old iPod with all my sad songs and my friend's copy of The Lord of the Flies, there is a special place in hell waiting for you.
Every morning, I listen to my iPod to drown all the thoughts in my head. Thoughts that make me feel like a zombie again. They say time heals everything. It's been quite a while and I'm still here. I listen to music to make the time bearable. To trick my head that I'm moving along with time. It kinda works because before I know it, I'm already in the office. Without the memory of how I got there.
Every night, I read my book while waiting in line for the shuttle home. I read to transport myself to a world where you don't exist. Where I am just living vicariously with the characters in the book. Where even just for a while, I won't be in pain. I can conquer the world alongside the main character and forget you. For a while. I can't read in the shuttle so I close my book and you appear again. I miss you and I'm back from where I started.
The next day, I do the same. This has been my routine for almost 2 months. I'm tired.
One of my bestfriends (human one) asked me, "What do you want? What do you want from him? Do you wanna be with him?"
"No, I don't wanna be with him. Not exactly. I wanna feel that I'm actually worth an awkward conversation. That I'm worth the effort. Because I couldn't handle not being his favorite person. I want him to wanna talk about the real stuff. The hard stuff. I just wanted to be worth something to him, you know? I wanna say sorry. It was stupid how I broke down and didn't explain. I'm always ready to jump off a sinking ship without thinking who I'm gonna leave behind. I did what I did because I didn't wanna lose him. But I guess losing him was inevitable." is what I should've said. But the too-proud-inarticulate-not-wanting-to-explain me just said, "I don't know."
These are the thoughts that I have to drown every morning and night. Now I don't have anything to drown them with. To the hipster robber who stole my 10-year old iPod with all my sad songs and my friend's copy of The Lord of the Flies, there is a special place in hell waiting for you.
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