It was a pleasantly strange reunion. For a moment I almost felt like I was back in high school, with friends I held so dear waiting and walking me to my ride.

A slight tug on my chest was a telltale sign of the nostalgia I was experiencing. It’s painful especially now that I am just truthfully and wholly realizing how easier we had it back then (but oh how I complained!). 

It was strange because I felt like I knew them, and yet I didn’t. It’s like… meeting someone new for the first time but feeling like you’ve known them all your life. It was strange and endearing at the same time because it made me realize that time and distance wasn’t against us. That these are friendships that will last for a lifetime. 

It was lovely to go down memory lane. But it wasn’t so lovely to realize how oblivious I was to a lot of things. To realize just how wrapped up I was in my own bubble. But oh well. I guess at least now I have the chance to discover everything I missed back then.

I like watching Masterchef Australia and Australia’s Next Top Model over the American versions. 

Why? Because they seem to actually focus on the talent and the profession of the contestants rather than the drama that enfolds among them.

Do I even need to mention how arrogant American contestants are? 

Plus I can’t help but grow fond of George, Gary and Matt. They seem to really care about the contestants. :)

Where are you?

I have been looking and waiting for quite some time now, and I have yet to find you. I know, I know. Most people would say I should stop looking. And, I really AM trying. But can one really stop one’s self from anticipating?

All this waiting have done is to set my standards higher and higher as I find myself chucking prospect after prospect. Haha. I’m just kidding. What I mean is, I  get to like a person and, after some time, find some unlike-able thing about this person, and *poof* I have to find someone else. I’m almost getting scared because it seems I am incapable of just accepting an imperfect person wholly? I didn’t think I was this evil a person. Yoikes.

I could actually count in one hand the number of people I have had significant feelings for. So far, there have only been 4 people who have made my heart go lubdub-lubLUBdub. And I’m talking about this going on for more than the typical 3-month period. So hi, would you be the fifth? The sixth? Seventh? I don’t really care how many it takes, I just want to know that I’d find you.

I have always said that I’m willing to go through a thousand heartaches for that person who will, eventually, be worth it. But it’s easier said than done.

…

So won’t you please find me now?

While my language can seem like I’m trying to sound smart, I assure you that I’m not. Trying to sound smart that is. Not being smart is an entirely different thing altogether. And, well, I may not be the smartest but I sure am not the stupidest.

Now here comes the hard part: Being honest.

I’m not entirely sure, but I think a lot of people that get to know me a little get the impression that I’m an honest person. And, well, I actually am. At least I try to be. If I’m not honest, I can call myself earnest. I try to do things in earnest though it may not always be in honesty. 

What I mean is, I am a liar. A lot of times I cover up what I truly think and feel—all because I want to avoid confrontation or I don’t want to make the other person uncomfortable. Other times, I lie to protect my pride. We all have secrets. Skeletons in the closet, so they say. And then there are those times when I’m not sure of the details so I make them up according to how I think they went, and sometimes that results to lies. 

I’m not sure what it is that I hope to accomplish, but I decided that I will, in earnest, try to be completely and utterly honest in this blog. And perhaps this small, and seemingly insignificant step would take me somewhere. 

For the longest time, I have felt like a shadow has been following me, always getting nearer and nearer.

And maybe because I’m a coward, I go on ignoring it. Resolute in pretending there isn’t anything amiss. Desperately trying to live a life. What’s left of it, anyway.

These may be unfounded fears, but they are fears, nonetheless. And these fears keep me from living fully—always aware that I might be too reckless. And yet I want to be reckless. 

This is a collection of random snippets and stories of a person’s struggles to live a good life. This is a self-indulgent blog for the sole purpose of keeping chronicles of the thoughts of one twenty-something woman (who feels like a girl more than ever). Sometimes, you will find attempts at profundity. Most times, you will see nothing but the layers that cover the core. Or perhaps you will see more than the layers. Just like what is happening now. 

Whether or not you stay to peel off the layers is up to you. I ask nothing in return save, perhaps, to take some time to appreciate what you, yourself, have to say.