I Can't Believe I Have Time to Write Again

In busy days and days that never seemed to end, I learned to bask in silence. At times, I would take good, brief walks, or laugh my entire being out. Pacifying myself had suddenly become part of my routine. Moreso, I learned how to manage doing one task at a time because I knew there were so many "nexts" to come and I would seriously lose it if I tried doing everything simultaneously. So when the days started slowing down, I found myself itching upon being confronted with a thousand uncertainties.

Be brave, they say. Grow up. Accept new opportunities. Try new hobbies. Do what you love. Never stop discovering new things. These days, these are the mantras I hear unceasingly. And I listened. I tried to be independent, fixating on the less than basic activities I could do in the kitchen. I brought myself to work, to the mall, and back home. I bought groceries and stuffed myself with fatty food. Every time, every time, I conquered a task by myself, I'd be proud, because, I repeat, I did it all by myself. Nevertheless, I do wonder sometimes. Isn't it a little too late for that, now that I have lived for almost a quarter of a century? Why do I feel this only now? Why was I not taught to survive and be, quite frankly, an adult?

Then time was of another matter, although as equally significant. I wanted to dabble in the arts. I have always enjoyed painting words, painting on blank canvasses, pushing keys and hearing wonderful, wonderful music. More than it being cathartic, I deemed myself to be a little bit better in this area compared to others, no offense. But when all my time was lost, why could I not push harder to invest on this? And then somehow, I ended up being a jack-of-all-trades and master of none. The pain.

It's hard to uproot me. When I find my niche, I dig really deep and claw my way down. I do not know if this brought me much good or much bad, but if I really, really, really trust someone else, I allow myself to be swayed. I have a strong history of harsh words and betrayal and somewhere along the way, I just wanted it to stop completely. So I put my guards up. How do I know if I'm trusting the right people? How do I protect myself from the awkwardness and intimidation while all the while enjoying new discoveries and being thrown away in a whirlwind? How do I become the person everybody is comfortable with in my endeavor to keep myself intact?

I have so many questions, most of which I can obviously see are contradicting or already provide direct answers. I just wanted to write. I have to say, my feelings are still twitching and sentimentally blurry, but seeing the words get strung together just like old times feels orgasmically good.

Groceries

I've been walking around groceries for the last two days, well... walking and shopping. It seems like grocery-buying is my new therapeutic habit during these times.

I'm enjoying teaching myself how the aisles are organized, and I learned that the number one thing I love about groceries is the organization that just envelopes the entire place. I am a fan of organization, and I would happily sacrifice my life for organization to conquer the human race.

I started visiting groceries when I had to buy materials for my class. Lately, I've been visiting because I keep wanting to refill my goodies and comfort food and drinks at work, re-supplying myself with a box of Swiss Miss Chocolate Truffle, Milo, Lipton Milk Tea, powdered milk tea from a Malaysian brand, Nestea Red Tea Raspberry Iced Tea, Meiji chocolates, pancit canton, cup noodles, Butterfinger, and the like, which you, by now, most probably have a good idea of.

Because I had to buy a number of things and I got exhausted from lugging my handbag around, I taught myself to use a cart. And when I rolled that grocery cart along the aisles, it was magic. I started thinking of how it would be like if I had a family, and a baby, and I could easily choose which baby stuff to buy because I'm becoming a pro at baby brands and what to choose for a baby. I started thinking of how I could do this everyday and buy only the good stuff for my family. The best comfort food. And I imagined my kids so happy because I didn't deprive them of junk food or A&W cream sodas every now and then. And I would eat with them because life is too short to stay healthy. We'd drink the salted-caramel-flavored-hot-chocolate from Starbucks on rainy days, using our colorful and awesome mugs and tumblers and we'd cuddle on mats and pillows while watching Disney movies. Or do art together, like go painting and stuff.

I didn't want to admit this, but going to groceries pushed me to want to be a mom soon. But I still have years to go, because if I'm going to need funds for my groceries and the house I'm going to put my groceries in, I have to survive at this job which I also love.