Late Night Planning

I always seem to be writing at 11:00pm and onwards, feels like a bad habit at this point.

Nonetheless, over the weekend, I’m going to try and sleep a tiny bit more and prepare for my second level Math course that’s starting on Monday.

To be honest, I haven’t done much revision for it, although it’s not too different from the previous level. Can’t wait to receive my other qualification in the post too.

Beginning to appreciate numbers as much as I love words.

Hard to believe we’re in week two of January. Where did the time go?

Is it just me, or does anyone feel like time is passing by a lot quicker than previously? Lockdown is one thing, but I don’t know, I’m very curious.


Mila. Xo

Narrative Of A Distant Stranger

With each hiatus, the guilt intensifies. It used to be less complicated, when it came to knowing what to say. It’s like staring in the mirror and not recognizing the face looking back. Call it writer’s blues, an obstacle of sorts, or something else along the lines of that.

Either way, there is a level of comfort in coming back, with a clear head, mindset in a better place. Struggles will come and go, as will many things, including people, memories, experiences and time.

Inspiration and motivation really does come at weird times. It’s almost five in the morning and for some reason, it felt like the right time to sit down with this little notebook on my lap, and just start expressing my thoughts.

Better late (or early) than never, I suppose. Also, I am not entirely sure what the title of this blog post represents, it just sounded nice. Maybe I just used it because I didn’t want to forget it?

It could make a good poetry concept, in the near future. We’ll see, though.

Speaking of poetry, I’ve really been slacking with this third project of mine. For a while now, something didn’t feel right anymore and I think a lot of it has to do with the overall theme of deceit and betrayal. Is it worth pursuing? Of course, there’s a time and place for all things emotive.

Only time will tell what I decide to do, a shift in themes might be good for my mind and soul. Food for thought, honestly. We all need a clean slate.

A little tired at this point, trying not to ramble. There might be some physical changes to the blog soon, not sure yet. I feel like it needs some love and care after being absent for months. A bit of change is therapeutic. For example, I recently cut my hair short and I am loving the current length.

The main reason why I did it was to let my hair recover from years of bleaching, dyeing, and heat styling. If my patience wears away, I might find myself becoming a blonde again by the end of this horrific year. Who knows, I make no solid promises to stay the same.

As I end this blog post, I want to thank the ones who have supported this blog throughout. The world needs more people like you.

Take care, stay safe.


Mila. Xo

Writing Session #21

Here’s a little poem I wrote just now. It’s untitled and a work in progress…

 

Solitude is a necessity, when your mind is louder than people,
And a comfort for the soul, if lonely at heart

The older, the wiser. Or perhaps, that’s a lie we tell ourselves?

Wandering thoughts and lingering words
All wrapped in white lies and finely preserved

bad poetry is still poetry

 

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Continue reading “bad poetry is still poetry”

another day, another thought

This blog has become an important part of life, I think documenting important things that have a lot of meaning to myself is the one thing that motivates me to keep this as active as possible. I find peace within self-expression, the only truth I’ve ever really known in life.

I know I’m not the greatest writer or the most wonderful poet out there, but to me,
none of that really matters if you believe in your work, regardless if people notice it or not.

Seeking validation can make life feel like a bit of a competitive race, and personally,
I don’t like that at all, because it kind of ruins life in the long run, and I speak for myself when I say that, not necessarily for anyone else because I am simply one individual.

Hoping I can make something great of this in the near future, because all I’ve truly wanted is to make good out of the resources already within my life and my surroundings etc. 

                                                                     Yours truly, Mila. Xo

personal connections

As a writer, speaking from the heart is something I always thought of, whether it was late at night and my eyes were tired, or I was completely awake but I lacked the motivation to really make an effort in writing.

What makes it so personal to me, is knowing that my emotions now has a voice & it’s of the written kind which in a way, makes this a humbling experience as well as an opportunity to really be heard, right?

For many years, I hid away under pseudonyms because I never truly believed in my work, it sounds
a tiny bit strange to begin with, but at the same time, I was going through the darkest moments in life and perhaps that guided me through a different path, which I’m now glad for; because I am me because of it.

In the years since my recovery, I’ve found bits and pieces of myself, that I never appreciated before & it’s incredible. I also found that, instead of having to belong to someone to feel whole, in reality, I was always whole because I had myself. And when I use that phrase, what I mean by the word ”whole” is that I was never alone, even during the moments where my heart was lonely and seeking comfort in spilling my emotions onto a piece of paper or a painting. I’ll admit, the previous years of my life were a dreary existence, there was chaos and drama, all wrapped up in a bow and I wasn’t happy. I was anything but that, actually.

I remember loathing my own existence to the point where I thought it would never become anything more than it was in the beginning. I felt like that for the longest amount of time, it was honestly surreal.

Fell in love a bunch of times, which sure, changed my life but not in the way I thought it would.
It didn’t really enhance my life, all it did was create a dark cloud of insecurity and lack of trust
between two hearts. and to be honest, I felt increasingly alone and sad within at this point.

But my point is, letting go of all that has been nothing but a benefit to my life, although at times,
there were moments where I fell into nostalgia and found myself clinging to old moments in life where it was all supposedly bliss.

what getting older taught me about life

Today, I would like to discuss something that I’ve always been passionate speaking about.
It’s about how getting older taught me valuable lessons in life, past & presently as well.

For most people, life begins as soon as you start breathing.
Mostly, it’s true and I agree with certain parts to an extent.
However, I felt like it didn’t truly begin until I was old enough to
understand the difference between living and existing, that’s when I
felt my life really started making sense, for the first time in my whole existence.

It sounds a little far-fetched, and perhaps that’s how I see it,
but the definition of life is different for everyone and I can’t even say that
enough times. In my personal experience, what getting older taught me the most is
that life is never as complicated as we might imagine it’d be.
And I say this in my own experience of it, not anyone else’s.
Anyway…getting older taught me to always respect the ones present in life
(except the ones who least deserve it, I let them go) and to never take anything
for granted because the existence of life is never guaranteed. In this age of time,
some of us forget how fragile life is in reality, and how easily it can be taken away
without a single thought. I know this because I lost my dear grandmother this year.
Getting older also helped me learn many valuable lessons,
such as, never count the days in which you live, but count the amount of good energy
that surrounds it, and the amount of wonderful moments created in that space of time.
For me, poetry was always the shoulder to cry on, the support always needed,
which is a big reason why I am putting together a book of poems from my heart,
creating good out of bad experiences, memories I’d rather forget and so forth.
It makes the work more authentic and personal in that sense.‎

breaking points

okdIt starts with a simple trigger, and it ends with an emotional cry of defeat. A passive-aggressive mechanism mastered from the years and pieces of you broken off like you’re society’s doll, robotic to emotion and numb from the chemical imbalance of one’s mind.

What you saw in movies, it became your illusion, the safety blanket you never had as a child, but eventually, the rose-colored lens faded, and you saw the world in all the disgusting hues of reality. Blue became associated with sadness & your lover’s eyes, red became nothing but a reminder of the blood you lost, and the love that decayed along with it.

I wish life was like it seemed when childhood nightmares were only the majority of life’s problems, you could breathe oxygen without being constantly clouded by the loss of your beloved, oh how tragic it felt at the time, but as time goes, you start to feel the hatred building like the blocks you had as a kid, ain’t it funny how tables can twist and turn?

 

Denial And Grief

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“A smile on my face but sadness within the eyes, I’ve found myself so stuck
between denial and grief like how the weather changes in winter & spring.”

-mc.

 

Continue reading “Denial And Grief”

triple threat

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Been so inspired today, it got me thinking about book ideas & what I want it all to be like.
Continue reading “triple threat”