That Inexplicable Feel-Good Morning Vibe

You ever wake up feeling so great for some reason you can’t tell what, or maybe no reason at all? It’s just another sunny morning and yet, somehow, you feel thankful just seeing the sun rise upon you, making you feel bright and all. You’ve definitely woken up on the right side of the bed.

I know that religious folks wake up in the morning everyday and thank the creator for being able to do so, but it kinda makes me wonder how often they really feel happy about it, and how many times they just do so because it has become their morning routine. Just like how you’d ask your colleague “How are you?” when you see them in the office though you don’t really care how they’re doing and just making a simple gesture to greet them because you crossed paths.

Oftentimes, I’d just wake up and start my day and give no damn about the weather, no matter how nice it is. It just seems normal to me, as if it is Earth’s obligation to give me a beautiful morning and so I shouldn’t expect anything less. It’s just something that happens everyday, you know, the sun rising, you waking up and starting to go about your day.

But sometimes, there’s this feeling that as I wake up, I just love how the sunlight gets through the window, poking my eyes and hitting my skin, as if it never happened once in my 30 years of existence. That this time, I’ve been gifted with a beautiful morning that it makes me feel I should do something productive or meaningful to pay back such a sweet favor.

We’d complain on every rainy day that interrupts our plans and daily activities, and making things more difficult to get done with, but we seldom feel grateful for a nice sunny day when we weren’t even asking for it. We often see it as just another occurrence that will pass soon and then we’ll see another one. What if we no longer did?

Maybe if we pay more attention to every morning that we open our eyes, no matter if it’s rain or sunshine we’d see outside the window, we’d be more appreciative of the fact that we did get another chance to see either one, and learn to spend each day having more patience with whatever troubles we’d face, and have a little more understanding of why some things just wouldn’t go our way.

Perhaps we’d put more heart into everything we do- whether it’s a simple task or a huge project, an obligation or a passion- as a way of giving thanks to the creator, or the nature, or the world itself, for allowing us to continue to breathe life and be able to get things done and do even more.

If this wonderful, inexplicable feeling happens on a day when you don’t plan on doing anything, a day off perhaps, then just continue to feel it and be happy. But why not give it meaning by doing something that would? Workout, finish your tasks, take a stroll, have a chat with a friend, or anything that would make you use the gift of positive energy so you can tell yourself that you’ve spent it well. You’ve been blessed with a chance to start the day feeling like you’re on top of the world, give thanks by ending it just the same way.

Jack and Jill

Jack and Jill went up the hill
to fetch a pail of water

Jack fell down and broke his crown
and Jill came tumbling after

Such a sad story it is about Jack and Jill. An ordinary day, just another chore. How could it end so gruesomely?

Jack broke his crown. He was probably brain-dead right there. What could’ve followed after Jill came tumbling after? Did she drop the pail filled with water on Jack’s head, crushing it totally?

But more importantly, why the hell is their misfortune sung with a cheerful tune, as if it’s meant to be a pleasant nursery rhyme for kids to sing in celebration of??

And a follow-up question. Why the hell is this only sinking in to me now??

Final question! Why do I bother??

Chasing A Dream Is A Scary Thing

According to research, The rate of people who are actually able to achieve and live their dreams go around only 8%, or only 1 out of 10. These are the kind of dreams that are not just about being financially stable or being able to go on vacation every once in a while, but actual dreams that people usually discover while they’re young. They’re the things that we wanna do that we know would make us happy because it’s everything we want. The dream that will give us true freedom.

Why am I talking about this? First, out of curiosity I asked Google about it, and second is the reason why I did. I was wondering how I could be one of that 8%.

In case you’ve read the story about a boy who couldn’t write a story, yeah, I was talking about myself. I just tried to make it look like I was trying to tell somebody else’s story so I could give storytelling a shot as part of my writing endeavor. You probably already knew that, but, anyway, I was the boy who couldn’t decide what his dream is and they reason why he exists. And as I age, the pressure just gets harder and harder for me as I struggle to find my purpose because I feel I’m just a few years away from hitting a dead end. I’m pretty sure I haven’t reached that yet. (Hopefully)

What am I here for?

Not that I’m craving attention or fame, but I just don’t wanna be another reason why there’s overpopulation, why there’s no extra seat on the bus, why there’s one more person on queue at the cashier inside the grocery store. I don’t wanna be just another existence, another who. I wanna be able to leave a mark on this world. A person with a story to share, who’d become an inspiration to other people who are in the same situation like I am right now, who dream a better life, a better self.

That’s why I said that I’m gonna write a book. How blunt of me to say that, but I thought I had the ability to create a story based on fiction, so people can read another story that will make them feel like they’re living in a different world- an escape. I’m not saying that people should just turn their backs on reality, pretend it doesn’t exist, and just live in a fictional world just so they can feel alive again. But, yeah, it’s kinda like that. We’d still have to, and will always have to face what’s waiting there outside in the real world, but it shouldn’t hurt to have something to dwell on when things get too much for us to handle.

I’m pretty sure that’s what fiction writers also have in mind when they write their stories. I’m willing to bet it’s one of the reasons why they love writing. They themselves want an escape from all the bullshit that’s going on around them so they create their own little world and share it with other people who seek refuge from the same things that chase them every single day. Just like them, I’d like to be able to create my own world where anything can be possible. Where all the things that people deny to exist all gather, and anyone can find shelter in if they wish to.

I already tried writing fiction and, damn, was it so difficult. I’d still try, though.

If I can’t be fiction writer, I wanna write in a different way. I just wanna have the power to write things that will inspire people to keep going. Keep going, meaning to keep chasing their dreams no matter what this world brings upon them, not keep going with a job they didn’t have a single interest in but have no choice because it’s what’s keeping them and their loved ones alive. If that’s inevitable- because it usually is- then I’d like to let them know that this reality where they go around in circle in is just a chunk of the bigger possibilities waiting for them if they only learn to have the courage to get out of their comfort zone.

The reason why I chose writing as my passion- despite knowing that I suck at it and that my words don’t connect with my readers- is because I feel motivated whenever I read books. The words inspire me and make me believe in myself even just a little. And that’s the kind of thing that I’d like to pay forward. It’s a dream. A crazy dream. Who the hell am I for people to even listen to, or waste time reading my words? I just wanna feel that my love for writing isn’t just about me writing words, but also my words putting meaning to people’s lives. The more I’m telling you about this, the more I wanna hide myself in the shadows due to embarrassment.

Chasing a dream, pursuing a passion, it’s a scary thing. Before I even attempt to write anything, I could already feel my knees shaking and weakening in fear, but I’ve already decided to keep going with this. I’m totally lost at the moment, but I’m not gonna let my fingers stop just because of that. This is a ramble but somehow I feel like I’m creating words that have meaning, and I just wish you’d feel the same as you’re reading this.

I’d be a hypocrite if I say that money is not included in this dream of mine, aside from letting my words inspire people. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have a dream at all. A passion is something you do that makes you so happy that money becomes the last reason why you pursue it. But it still is one of the reasons, and if you are earning money from something you love doing, then you must have infinite happiness knocking on your front door everyday.

They say that rich people don’t work for money, but they let money work for them. Actually, to be more precise, it’s not the money that works for rich people, but their passion. They pursue their passion by staying up late and sacrificing most of their time doing the things that provide temporary happiness to the ordinary people and use this time instead to work and improve their passion and become better at what they love to do. Once they’ve given it enough work and effort, it pays them back in return.

That’s what makes it so scary. It takes a lot of work to live your dream. Lots and lots more work than when you’re working a mediocre job. But it’s the kind of work that really pays off. It’s the kind of work that will give you the freedom and be part of the 8% who live in a reality that is their dream. The reality that they created in their heads and believed them to be true.

“Chasing a dream is scary, for the path that it runs to is the path that is rough and full of thorns, but it is the path of kings.”

(That quote is half made-up and have derived from a quote that I’ve heard somewhere but I don’t remember from where, what, or who. I’m not claiming that it’s mine so please don’t accuse me of plagiarism. Feel free to remind me of it in the comments if you know what I’m talking about.)

Pursuing your passion may sound crazy to many, even to yourself. Like I’ve already said multiple times, chasing a dream is scary, but so is walking on an endless road, only rewarding yourself with a few treats every twice a month that don’t even last for a week, before you head out again to continue with your endless steps towards nowhere.

The Story Of A Boy Who Couldn’t Write A Story

This is a story of a boy who wants to write a story. He’s supposed to write a story by now while sitting in front of his laptop, but instead he just writes about how he’s supposed to write a story instead of actually writing a story because, apparently, he couldn’t write a story. How sad is that? “Well, that’s the whole story,” he thought to himself. “I don’t have any.”

This boy dreams about being a bestselling author someday. He dreams about making tons of money with this passion that he found one day when he was at work, alone and bored while waiting for the minutes to pass until the end of his shift. He was secretly browsing the internet and he found this blog site that shared stories about travel, food, arts, and more. Things he thought he could also write about even though his own life story just mostly includes going to work and going back home.

When he was in high school, the boy also once dreamed of becoming a drummer in a rock band after discovering that he could play the drums, when he joined his classmates who formed a band for a school event. He also thought he could be a guitarist, a front man, or even a pianist. Anything he tries and thinks he’s good at or even just has potential to do, he dreams of it becoming his career. Some of those dreams, he still dreams of today. He’s always quick to decide to switch from one chosen passion to another.

But time has passed and now he’s got bigger responsibilities. He thinks it’s crazy to even think of pursuing a passion and living his dream, whatever it is that he really wants to achieve, or if he even really has one. He thinks he’s being delusional to even think about living a dream. It’s just something that he wasn’t born to do, or born to have. He’s meant to live to be just another brick on the wall. A sprout that failed to grow and would eventually wither without anyone noticing. That as long as he’s working and earning to get by from paycheck to paycheck, he’s doing what he’s destined to do.

He sits down in front of his laptop and would stare at a blank page as he tries to come up with a story. He knows that he shouldn’t wait for an idea to pop up in his mind because he knew that he often cannot come up with any. If he waits for the magic moment, then he might end up waiting forever. So, he just lets his fingers run through the keys and type in whatever he wants to. He worries if what he’s doing is making any sense, but he just wants to write and tell a story.

How did writing end up becoming his new so-called passion in the first place? He’s dreamed of himself being a different person with different talents, but all those dreams were just part of his daydreaming. He likes those things that he daydreams about, yet he didn’t have any interest in putting them to reality. Even if he wanted to, he knew right away that he won’t get anywhere and he’d just be wasting his time. What is it about writing that makes him want to persevere? What makes him think it’s all gonna be worth it?

No. He’s not even that passionate about it. He’s read different tips from other writers and bloggers. All of them are advising him to invest more time in writing. If he really wants to be a successful writer or blogger, he has to put everything aside and make writing his top priority. He has to wake up everyday and create new stories. Stories that will catch his readers’ attention, that will want them to keep coming back to his blog in anticipation to his new posts.

He knows that he’s not as passionate as these other bloggers that he follows. He wanted to. He tries to read different books, but he loses interest so fast that he starts to read a different book before he could even finish what he was reading previously. He’s already read more than five books and hasn’t finished a single one. “Why couldn’t I decide on something? Why am I always bored so quickly?” This boy couldn’t decide on a book, just as he couldn’t decide what his dream really is. What his life purpose really is. Who he really is.

Writing, this boy realized, is not actually a newfound passion of his, but rather an escape. He’s a boy who has a lot of thoughts to share, opinions to be heard, but he chooses to keep mum about it. He wants to tell someone how his day has been, where he’s been, what he’s eaten, what he thinks the world should be, how he thinks people should behave, but it’s all pointless to him. He would just sit back and ask himself, “Why should I even bother opening my mouth? I’ve got hands to write with.”

For some reason- which only he knows, and which even he himself couldn’t understand- he believes that thoughts and stories are better written than said. What’s even the point in that? Yet, when this boy starts to sit down and attempt to write a story that he thought he had in his head, he’d usually just stare at the blank page and fail right away. He couldn’t tell if his mind was playing tricks on him, or if it’s even working at all.

After his failed attempt to write a story, the boy just ends up writing about his current sad situation. He didn’t even give it much thought. He just typed in out of frustration. He writes about how he failed to think of a story that would capture his readers’ attention. The readers who he imagined would give him praise and thanks for what he’d written. His muse failed him once again. “I’m such an idiot. I’m fucking hopeless,” he again thought to himself. Writing is not his passion, but just an escape from reality. The reality that he’s never gonna be able to live his dream, let alone find it. And today, he escaped another one.

I Jumped Rope to Burn Fat, But It Did More Than That

I’m feeling upbeat today. I didn’t know why at first, but I think it’s because of what I did this morning. After waking up at around 6 AM and going to the bathroom to take a dump (a morning routine), I drank a glass of water and, shortly, started warming up for my workout. Waking up early is also not uncommon for me, but for the past couple of weeks, I’ve been trying to put more effort in waking up early so I can workout and start the day with great energy.

This might also be the first time that I’ve had this much motivation to workout. First, it’s because I’ll be going to the beach for a vacation soon and I was hoping to get a beach body before it completely turns into a dad bod. But I might not be able to reach that goal since my vacation will be in a week from now and I’ve just started this new workout program about a month ago after buying more dumbbell plates, which is the second reason why I’m hyped. Each dumbbell now has 45 pounds of weight. Although I’m currently unable to lift that much, I’m slowly working my way there. Lifting heavier weights makes working out more exciting.

Another additional equipment I bought for (hopefully) achieving this long-term goal that has been long overdue- and the reason why I’m feeling so upbeat today- is a jumping rope. This may sound funny since I’ve been inconsistently working out for a long time but I’ve just recently thought of buying a cheap equipment that would actually be a lot of help in losing fat. The reason is because I’ve discovered the HIIT thing and I thought doing burpees would be a lot better since it requires lesser time, yet very effective in burning fat. The problem is that it takes a lot of strength and endurance to do it every other day, especially after lifting that I get kinda burned out and feel lazy to workout again for a few days. That’s why I never have any progress.

Today, I realized that a jumping rope actually allows me to have a more effective cardio exercise after lifting weights. I got totally soaked in sweat, I could do it longer, and it’s also a fun activity. I loved the challenge of jumping as much as I can and as fast as I can without tripping on the rope. I did it outside the house since there’s not enough space inside. I lost track of my number of jumps, but it should be no less than a thousand since I did it for about an hour with little rests in between. I could’ve done more but it started to drizzle so I decided to end it and get back inside.

It’s probably the jumping activity that made gave me this positive energy after working out. It’s normal to feel upbeat after working out and it’s actually one of the good reasons why people should always find time to do it. Today, I’ve discovered that jumping ropes can double that positive feeling. Burpees is good and involves jumping, too, but that exercise is too difficult that I find it easily detestable, which is the same for many other people. I found out that I’d rather jump rope for an hour than do burpees for five minutes. It gives me the same feeling as when I’m jumping to a happy song during a live band concert. It’s just so positive, fulfilling, and fun.

I don’t think I’d lose the stubborn belly immediately if I jump rope for an hour everyday starting to day to the day of my upcoming vacation, but I’m not really worried about that now since I know that it’s already too late and I still have a long way to go. I’m just happy about the fact that I now have a more organized workout program than I did in the past, and I also found a new tool that will make my home workout more enjoyable. It’s a good motivation to starting my life’s new chapter.

I Can’t Write

I can’t write when someone’s watching me while I do it.
I just wanna be left alone while my fingers run through the keys.

I can’t write while someone’s talking to me, especially asking me questions.
The brightest idea can burst like a bubble from a slightest bit of distraction.

I can’t write while people move around behind me.
Same as watching, even if they weren’t, it feels like they are.

I can’t write for anybody.
That’s the sad part about it. I don’t have the heart to.

I can’t write when I want to.
Now I’m making excuses, which happens all the time.

I can’t write when I’m told to.
‘Cause nobody does, other than myself.

I write best when I’m alone.
When there’s no reason to hold back.

When there’s nothing or no one else to turn to.
When I feel like wanting to self-destruct.

It’s complicated why I wanna write, you see.
I don’t want you to see, but I want you to see.

For only when I want to
Can I really tell you what there is in me.

Love of Family Can Be Toxic and Corrupt

Filipinos, they say, are known to value family the most. It’s the top priority of almost, if not every working person in the country. Instead of striving to reach their dreams, they’d instead find a secure job and join the rat race until they’re old and retired, not having any more opportunities to do what they really love.

That’s how important family is to us. Even if we are forced to do it, we do it anyway to pay back our parents’ hard work in raising us. And sending an aged relative to a nursing home sounds like a deadly sin. We just don’t do that. We take care of them no matter what, and stay with them until their last breath.

If we work abroad, we are obliged to buy pasalubong or gifts to our families and relatives- no matter how big the clan is- everytime we go home for a vacation. And every payday, we send most of the income to our family to spend it for both their needs and wants. It’s the reason why we couldn’t save money despite the huge income we earn from working abroad.

You may think that sounds kinda toxic. Yes, it is. It’s a toxic culture that is suffocating many Filipinos which many of us deny because it would be disrespectful to the families that we take care of. Even if we are deprived of our dreams in most cases, it’s still worth the hard work as long as we see the smiles from their faces. It doesn’t matter if we’re left with just an exact amount of allowance to get by for a month as long as our families at home can enjoy a life of luxury, while some kids won’t understand why we had to leave them and will rebel against us but will still demand for their luxurious needs anyway. And despite that, we will still work hard for them because that’s what love is.

That issue, though, is family related which is kind of a personal matter, so I’m gonna set that aside because that’s none of my business. The other reason I’m writing about this “Love of family” thing is because I think there’s something bigger about it. Something that is also family related, but is big enough for all of us to meddle with. This time I’m talking about the rich, or the more privileged class. The government.

Why is there so much corruption in the Philippines? Yeah, it happens all over the world, and some other countries may be worse, but I’m just letting my mind get creative here. What could possibly be running in these corrupt people’s minds- whoever these people are that are working in the government- that they’ve got a shitload of nerve to steal people’s money through tax and not have a drop of conscience in their blood when they do it? What’s motivating them to keep doing it?

Greed. The lust for money. Obviously, that is the answer, but what’s driving them to keep doing it as if they could never have enough? If I’d want to steal money, I’d steal an amount that would be enough for a retirement plan (I swear on my life that I’d never do it because it sucks), just the right amount to cover for my expenses so I can have my freedom and enjoy it at a young age. What about my family? Wouldn’t I want them to have the same freedom and happiness?

That must be it, then. It’s the same reason why the middle class are working hard. The same reason why they’d leave their families to find their “dream secure job” overseas. It’s the love for family. These corrupt people want their families and relatives (and maybe their bitches, too) to be happy. While there’s nothing wrong in wishing happiness for their loved ones (including their bitches), the problem is that they want it too much that they couldn’t stop stealing what’s supposed to be the contribution of the masses for government projects and for the betterment of the country.

We all dream of being financially free, and these people in the government are doing an amazing job of working smart. They don’t work hard. They just wait for the taxes from the people who work very hard and then they’d slip a little amount in their pockets. The next thing we know, they’re already enjoying a lavish lifestyle and living the real dream, thanks to these hardworking people who don’t even have a clue.

This is not based on research and all are based on my very own opinion, or rather my imagination. If you think what I’m saying is stupid, maybe it’s because it is. Like I said, I’m just playing with my thoughts. But really, too much love, if it may not kill you, may suffocate or corrupt you.