Been Doing Yoga, BTW.

I have recently been doing yoga.

Yes, I’ve gone to a few sessions in the past. Yoga has always been some sort of “I really need a stretch” kind of thing for me. However, due to this “we need to get healthier” roll that my friends have going on, I have been focusing on something healthy, and that, for me, is Yoga. It started out pretty stressful, but soon, I started getting the kick out of it and I’m planning on maintaining the practice for as long as I can.

I think it’s because it is finally kicking me in the arse how tense and stressed I have been for the longest time. Yoga is supposed to be a form of meditation, but somehow when the Yogi says “relax your shoulders” I honestly didn’t know how to do it. Relaxing my shoulders while I’m in an excruciatingly weird pose just isn’t comfortable. I kept asking myself whether or not breaking my neck was an option.

Plus, the more the Yogi says “leave your thoughts behind” the more I worry about the lists in my planner: payment trackers, workload, schedules, you know, those random things.

However, over time, I’ve gotten better at the “relaxing” and “leave thoughts behind” part. I have even been writing less because lately, Yoga has been my way to cleanse my thoughts and relax. It works exactly only during the time in the week I’m in the studio, but considering how uptight and controlling I usually am, I am just glad I am able to let my thoughts go for a few moments and just concentrate on not falling off balance. I am not good with my balance in the first place, so even a Warrior III pose is a small victory for me.

Speaking of small victories:

yoga

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Heartbreaking Nightmares

Today I fell down the rabbit hole. I haven’t been here in a long time, because see, for the most part, I thought I’m okay. Things happen, things end, things move on. That’s life, and I’ve long learned to accept that.

But the thing with burying something at the back of your mind does not guarantee that some random brain glitch will not dig it out while you’re asleep, and last night, that’s exactly what happened.

DAMN.

 

The circumstances that played out were barely logical. Even while I was inside that dream, I knew I was dreaming, and that nothing about it was real. The set-up, the conversation, the people in it — none of it would ever even remotely come together in real life. I could hear Lizzie McGuire playing in the background — the same series I was playing on my actual laptop in real-life because I never sleep with  no video on as a form of white noise. I was in a dream, I knew it, but the circumstances in that dream is an absolute nightmare that I really wish my brain did not go digging into.

But the thing is, even though I knew I was in a dream even as I was dreaming it — even though I knew that nothing like that even remotely happened, I still can’t get it out of my head and to confirm the dream state of it, I went down and fell into a rabbit hole that I avoided so much for the past three years.

I want so much to cry, but I told myself crying will not make it any less nightmarish or heartbreaking, and even if I can control what happens in my reality, I have no control over it in any way, shape, or form. I knew this much, and I want really to just be happy and accept what it was because it’s bound to happen sooner or later, but some things, especially those you wanted very badly for so long — some things will take a while to swallow.

I am not even coherent about what I’m ranting on and on here, and I wish I could explain without really explaining, but I can’t. Rabbit holes aside, I really kind of wish Gilderoy Lockhart is here to obliviate this one dream and one person from my mind.

And there, now you know what this is about.

Can I get my express train to Hogwarts now, please?

I feel melancholic these days

I know I haven’t written in a while…

Mostly because I feel melancholic. Not sad, just — I don’t know. I wish I’m not so far away from my best friends. I mean, yes, I love my Cebu friends, but there are some people, you know, who were with me during my most troubled times and I wish I can just poke them awake or go up to their rooms, or call them for breakfast or lunch or take them out for a long walk — those days were the ones when I felt most centered.

I am spinning.

I’m not sure what’s happening. I mean, salary aside (HA!) I am pretty content with my life. I like being able to do what I want, I like having time to explore other things. (I mean, this year, I already went to more yoga classes than I did in the last three years!)

But for most of the time, I feel melancholic and I just wish my best friends are here. A tirade of why I feel the world is on my shoulders just don’t make for good conversation when we’re all trying to find ways to get our life on track and when we’re all just trying to keep going.

I am in free fall.

Sometimes I just want to escape — things can’t be too bad in other patches of the same Earth, right? This isn’t my rock-bottom, it’s just that I am no longer emotionally charged. I am too tired to care about everything else. I want to jump to free fall and feel my body crash in the ocean. That would be exhilarating if I were’t so scared of heights.

 

Or maybe I’ve been watching too much Grey’s Anatomy.

Too much dark and twisty there.

The Lost Art of Letter Writing

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(c) Tumblr

As part of my freshman English course, I had to write to a pen pal — this is in the early 2000s, so even then letter writing was a slowly dying form. I absolutely love writing, but when you’re twelve and a freshman in high school, writing to a random person is all sorts of awkward.

So in my letter, I explained in great lengths that I had to write to a pen pal as part of a class requirement, and not that I’m a stalker or anything of the sort. The letter was then sent to my mom’s friend’s daughter halfway around the world, who, as it turned out, was only a few months younger than I.

I don’t know how seriously my classmates took that assignment, but I was relieved, nonetheless, when I got a reply (although I suspected that her mother forced her to write back). Leia and I continued writing each other for a year, I think, way past the requirement for class.

But like I mentioned, this was in the early 2000s, which means that the art of letter-writing was already dying, so eventually, we went on to email each other instead of write pen-on-paper — and pretty soon, by the time I got to college, we’ve been communicating through social media, like everyone else on the planet.

However, my friends in college are amazing, and are pretty sold on the handwritten notes and letters front. It’s not unusual for me to receive “Have a good day” notes from my friends, random doodles, and even origami left on my desk.

Nothing beats getting actual mail though. Especially mail in the form of letters — no other material things, just letters about the goings-on in someone’s life, and musings asking how you are, too.

I have been wondering how humans forgot the art of letter writing, but as it turns out, not only is a text or email faster in getting messages across the seas, it’s also economical. Apparently, today, it costs a lot to send a postcard to another country, at least, from here in the Philippines.

Okay, not that expensive, but for 120PhP for a postcard, it’s not actually reasonable, considering you get the length of a tweet on one of those things.

 

 

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Photo: phlpost.gov

Costs aside, I do want to bring back the art of letter writing. Maybe one postcard a month somewhere around the globe?

An Appeal To My Filipino Readers

Hi Everyone,

It’s been a while since I posted about suicide prevention, but last night, a video has been going around showing a person who fell from the third floor of a building.

When asked, the person who posted the video said that she will not take it down because she had every right to post it, and that it’s making rounds in the media anyway. She even LAUGHED at the person who tried to kill himself.

I appeal to you — if you’re here, you know that suicide is a big deal, not a laughing matter. If you’re here, you know that this is against all that we stand for as warriors who are trying to fight against suicide — so please, please, please if you come across the video, please don’t watch it, don’t react, don’t comment.

JUST REPORT IT ON FACEBOOK AND ASK THEM TO TAKE IT DOWN.

Please.

Hopeline, Philippines’ Suicide Prevention Hotline, may be reached at (02) 804-4637; 0917-5584673; and 2919 for Globe and TM subscribers