contentment, embracing yourself, life, love, moments, thoughts, words

A Place of My Own

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There is this place I like to go to, it is my safe place; this place belongs only to me, it is where my heart beats; no stress, no pain, no words, no refrain; I can laugh, I can cry, I can think, I can sleep; this place it is mine and where my emotions keep. There is place I like to go, it is where I heal; this place belongs only to me, it is where I live; its warm, its loving, its honest, its giving; I inhale, I exhale, I love, I feel; this place it really is mine and where I shall forever breathe.

 

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embracing yourself, life, love, moments, romance, stories, thoughts, twenty-somethings, woman

Simple Beginnings

“Today is January 1st, 2015. What do you want to do with your life this year?” she asks me smirking because I am notorious for making resolutions I cannot keep. I laugh inwardly because I know its true, I’ve always been one too ‘determined to lose a few pounds,’ ‘learn a musical instrument,’ ‘gossip less,’ ‘be more charitable,’ ‘do yoga consistently,’ etc. etc. It lasts exactly 1 month before I knowingly brush my “resolutions” aside because of my new found life motto of ‘being true to how and who you truly are.’ Everything is easily manipulated to suit my owns moods, needs, desires, wants, in this girl’s life. But not this time.

Today is January 1st, 2015 and I want things to be exactly the way they were when I was woken up this morning by an alarm set at 11:50pm on December 31st so that we are awake for midnight together. To find myself so determined to want to be doing something so that my superstitious self can revel in the mere fact that that apparently will set the tone for the rest of the year. I’ve had youthful drunken New Years after party hopping and dancing till my feet hurt, I’ve had comforting New Years surrounded by family delighting in each other’s quips, I’ve had memorable New Years spent making last memories with friends who I will lose before the year ends, I’ve had depressing New Years where I will find myself asleep before the ball drops after having had one too many glasses of wine, I’ve had adventurous New Years where I will find myself walking down the main-street of a great metropolis dressed in only a strapless dress and heels in –1° weather. So much laughter, tears, love, loss and yet, this New Years has been the most meaningful. I don’t know if it is an age thing or if its just my good luck….the simple joys of life I spent indulging in this New Years (where I have not made a single resolution by the way) has come to mean the most. I hope this does set the tone for the year. So that I will find myself constantly amused and amazed, loved and in love, laughing and screaming, eating and drinking, sharing and just being. This New Years I am thankful for life and all the wonderful people it blesses me with.

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embracing yourself, life, love, romance, words

Simply Telling You

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And if I could tell you, through my unreasonable shyness and my antiquated values, just what I may have always wanted to say. And if I could show you, putting aside my fears and the self preservation, what physically translates into the words I struggle to find. You would know. That sometimes my heart does this thing, a rhythmic beating against its normal way. A sensation I dismiss only to find embraced. A gleeful smile across my everyday face. A fascination for every mundane exchange. All this and some, making me scarily happy. They say to find your soul mate, you need to discover your own soul first. The beauty of this is that in many ways you’ve helped me discover the depths of my own soul while being the soul mate I never believed existed. This is, once in acceptance, the greatest thing. This I believe is beyond just you and I. Because if I were to tell you, through the uncertainties and probabilities, just what it is this does to me. That sometimes my heart does this thing, a rhythmic beating against its normal way, a systemic shifting transforming me. Where it begins and where it shall end, we will never know. But whatever it is I will always be; grateful and indebted to have gotten the chance. To feel myself slowly becoming the person I’ve always wanted to be. But still if I could tell you, despite my timidness and trepidation, just what you’ve come to mean to me. You would know. That I love you, with no doubt in my silly mind.

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fiction, romance, stories, words, writing

Part II – Chivalry Days and Moscato Nights

KissIts been four days of sun and drinking Moscato out of frosted bottles of white, blue, and pink. For such palpable attraction to one another, we have not touched intimately….well, besides the greeting and goodbye hugs and the soft pecks on my cheek. The briskness and ease with which he carried out this latter task almost makes it childlike. That is what I seem to like most about him. The almost purity and honesty in every single thing he does. I laugh when I think about the way he walked up those stairs the first time I saw him at the villa and there I am, in my dress, glamazon-ed up but freaking out in fear just by the way he slightly scrunched up his prominent brows. “Oh god, hes going to walk up here and reprimand me for not recognizing him,” I think to myself. But guess whats the first thing he says? You look like a more beautiful version of Sophia Loren. Me? Better than the ever so sexy Sophia Loren? Petite Asian girl with my two dimensional body that I am. Can you imagine. I knew he was just being complimentary but the way his face softened as he climbed up the stairs and got to me; and the way his eyes went slate blank like a confessing child when he said that made me believe him in that moment, against my better judgement.

You know, I don’t know who he is, and why there was a frenzied mob of people surrounding him at the sports field. I guess I am on vacation because I don’t seem to have a cellphone on me. I am amazed in the four days we’ve spent hours together, neither one has found it necessary to pull out a phone to fill in the silence or even really ask anything beyond each others name. I don’t Google him. For once, I just want to remember him this way. For his shy smiles which are so unlike his usual confident self, for the way little gestures of chivalry seem to come so naturally to him — I didn’t understand why he would always, almost subconsciously, make sure he walked on the curb side while strolling through town, I would of course learn later on that it was actually a custom born out of the olden days when women needed to be shielded from the potential hazards posed by the passing horse-and-buggy. Old-timey etiquette like these always melt my heart. He was post-card perfect for my post-card vacation.

If you were anywhere in the vicinity, on the fifth day, you would have found us on the open roof of the villa. His ipod strategically placed within the large ceramic bowl as a make-shift speaker. Elvis Costello’s voice lacing the evening air and complementing the buzz from the wine. We sit on Italian wool blankets and talk about everything and nothing. He’s here because he needed a break. He asks why I am here, and I cant seem to find any purposeful reason. I wonder if I imagined being here and that’s why I am here, but only respond with a, “just like that.” “Well either way,” he says, “I am glad you’re here.” We look at each other and smile. “I remember you from the stadium,” he says. For a moment this wonderful life in Tuscany comes to a standstill. The threat of reality from life outside these few days threatening to come swarming in. “I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen,” he says. I sit there stunned and unable to respond. “I didn’t…..” I think I should tell him that I am sorry I didn’t know who he was, or that I walked away but stop because it seems silly. “I know,” he says and leans in and kisses me for the first time. I sigh against his mouth. Our very first kiss.

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love, moments, relationships, romance, stories, woman, words, writing

Part I – That Sophia Loren Dress

sophia-loren-floral-dress-1965The frenzy around who had just showed up on the other side of the bleachers where I was standing was palpable. It must be someone famous I thought. I didn’t rush, not like the other girls as they double hopped over the steely benches to run towards the right. I made my way down the steps, slowly and carefully. I even remember the way my bright purple New Balances with its grey undersoles touched down on every single step, planting itself over the aluminium grooves of the benches. I got down to the grass on the field and turned right to see what all the commotion was about. I am lucky I haven’t been dashed into or pushed aside by one of the crazier ladies from the lot jumping up and down in glee. Its funny how in moments of pure excitement, joy, elation, whatever you want to call it, even adults are brought down to their most guileless, rather child-like, versions of self.

In interest of trying to find out who exactly was there on the bleachers causing the spectators to lose their heads, I slowly made my way through a thinning crowd as he obliged to take selfies, sign things and hug or shake hands. Somehow, and I imagine it is because I am the creator of this story, I ended up smack in the front of the crowd phone camera all ready, thinking and partly hoping it is a public figure I would know. Unsurprisingly it is not. I have no idea who this man is, and just as I shrug my shoulders and put my phone away we make eye contact. His beaming smile pauses, not in those meet cute kind of ways, but almost flabbergasted that there would be one person in this sea of people who might, just might, be uninterested or unknowing of who he was. His eyes widen a little but he maintains eye contact. I look away in unease. And quickly make my way back through the crowd and out of the stadium. I take one last look back at him, busy posing, sandwiched between two blonde bombshells. Probably a famous athlete I think and walk away.

Few days later, I find myself out on the balcony of a beautiful Italian Villa, it may have been on Lake Como, it may have been somewhere in Santa Barbara, but I hope against all hopes that it was in Tuscany, Italy. There has always been a certain charm in the terracotta floors and an intoxication in the patterned limestone that almost guarantees any encounter one of romance, passion, sexy bed hair, wine and cigarettes. Anyway, so I find myself in what I think is my most beautiful Sophia-Loren-would-approve floral sun dress, out on the balcony looking down and ‘lo and behold’ who do I see? My unidentified, could be a famous athlete from the football field frenzy incident a few days back. His hair much lighter from the glow of the sun, on a brilliant blue Vespa, in a casual white and blue Henley, staring up at me after pulling into the cobbled driveway that the balcony I am on overlooks.

“Well, hello there,” he says. Smirk in place. I cannot tell if his accent is American or European. He speaks with no accent. What accent sounds like no accent I wonder. Shut up! I tell my mind that is going into unnecessary details from the nervousness. I fear if I step any closer to the sides of the balcony he will be able to see up my Sophia Loren dress. I furrow my brows in pretentious confusion, even as my insides burn up in nerves and I feel a deep flush beginning at the tip of my smaller than usual ears.

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embracing yourself, existential crisis, lessons, life, love, moments, stories, thoughts, words, writing

Taming the Chaos in Reverie

Image: theclotheshorse

Image: theclotheshorse

“The thing to learn from this my dear,” she said, “is that even in perfection there are perfect invalidation. What begins must end, but what breaks apart will also somehow eventually come together. Such is the way. The existence of every sentiment, feeling, incident, experience, effort, thought, words, and everything else in between is makes up what is, your life, and mine. His life and hers. All the same. There is of course beauty in the beauty of momentarily getting caught up in life’s little quips and whims. It is what is thrown onto your path to make life worth living and appreciating. Don’t fear its capricious ways, don’t fear of being left hollow and alone at the end, don’t fear its spill overs, don’t fear hurt or hurting, don’t fear, don’t fear, don’t fear, my dear,” she said. “It is not this or that, it is not your reaction to survive the bitterness you’ve been trying to scrub away, but it is also not your genuine desire to be here, it is what happens when its meant to happen. You do not need to have it all figured out, ever! That is a requirement humans place on themselves constantly but oh-so-unnecessarily. Embrace the vagueness for once because no one is going to quiz you on how superficially you understood it in the end. No, no, it is just that, superficiality, because the thing about these almost perfect situations is that it has no bottom to measure its depth. It is only as deep as you pursue it. So many of us forget and tire of the pursuit so we create a bottom and claim thats as far as it was capable of going, but that’s not true my dear, it is as deep, as profound, and as extreme as you allow it to be. There is both beauty and ugliness in that. If you understand it, its perfect. But as I said when I started this conversation, even in perfection there are perfect invalidation,” she sighed. “Allow yourself to be happy, allow other people to be happy, it may not be your responsibility but it is possible. Your brokenness is not reason enough to stop it. Don’t fear, don’t fear, don’t fear my dear,” she said and disappeared back into the sleepy abyss from where I had dreamed her up.

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Birthday Post

 

Image from Monica Net on Pinterest

Image from Monica Net on Pinterest

Yesterday, August 17th, was my birthday and ever since the last sip of champagne had at dinner I have felt like I needed to make a post….not just any ordinary post, but a profound birthday post. One where I share the lessons I might have learnt from the epic journeys I have made, or a splendidly satirical story from the day when a friend did something funny. But as I sat down to write a post the first time, I came up with nothing. It was not because my life hasn’t been an epic journey on its own, or there haven’t been important lessons learnt. Not even because I do not have extremely funny friends, I do,  as a matter of fact a funny incident occurred on my birthday which involved the idea of vandalizing public property because in a year or two none of us will be in our twenties and being caught for public vandalism in your thirties is just oh-so-unbecoming, and references to spilled semen (yes, yes, you read it right, semen!). But that is a story for another time. Anyway, the reason why I came up with nothing is because for once in my life, I feel the most at peace with myself. While there might not have been extremely interesting events to share about, I also have not had extremely low points like I used to. Life I think has finally been allowed to keep on keeping on without my own over-thinking, sabotaging old ways. It could be age, or wisdom (*cough*cough), or the guidance I have had in my family and friends, whatever it may be, I find myself on my birthday, extremely grateful.

My creative side could not conjure up the words to describe where I am in my life any better than the following words by Robert M. Drake:

then, she began to breathe,
and live, and every moment
took her to a place where
goodbyes were hard to come
by. she was in love, but not
in love with someone or
something, she was in love
with her life. and for the first time, in a long time,
everything was inspiring.

Thank you for all the birthday love from those near and far 🙂

 

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