Let me introduce myself. I am a fun-loving and committed blogger who has been posting regularly for the past four years. There has never been a day with writer’s block or bad posts that receive no “likes”. Nothing else has ever been this smooth-sailing.
Oh, who am I kidding!
Regardless of whether you are new to this blog or have been at the edge of unfollowing this blog for the past few years, let me introduce myself again. I am an amateur blogger who is honestly really bad at keeping up with even one post a week. Despite the big FOUR that this blog has aged to, it is definitely subpar as compared to many bloggers out there who have the same number of years of “experience”.
Blogging is a lot like exercise regime. Even though I may be running for at least five years now, but what matters most is my frequency of doing it. Another person may have just started a new year resolution to stay fit; but if (s)he has been sticking to the exercise routine three times per week, (s)he would still be in a better shape than my lazy and procrastinating self who has been “too busy to run” and only managed to get outdoors once a month.
Diet is also a very, if not the most, important factor in exercise regime. In fact, it is more important than the physical exercise itself. In blogging term, the way to manage our dietary intake is to manage the media we consume daily. Like it or not, the way we think and speak and write is largely influenced by what and who we are exposed to day-by-day. So the next time you want to use a certain lingo from a movie or a tweet, be sure the filter and check on the meaning of the word before blabbering freely.
Where were we?
Pardon the momentary distraction. One once said, “not all those who wander are lost”.
I hope it’s not too late now to start over, to make time to ponder upon life and put it down in writing, and to nourish the mind with quality “food”.
Food for thought, anyone?
May the FOURth be with you all,
xx Tania xx
The huge black mass bulks up in one corner day in, day out; unconcerned.
The silent cry of our close ones deafens our conscience, rendering us oblivious to their crave for attention.
The worldwide issues are flashed in the media as briefly as they flash across our mind.
The piles of untouched possessions become a spotless set of trophies, collecting dust.
Nobody is taking charge of them;
Nobody is assuming responsibility, until:
The putrid air wafts out from the corner, saturating the room;
The emotional distance between our close ones and us becomes as immense as our ignorance;
The issues hit close to home and bring harm to our egocentric self;
There is no more space left to make room for the more precious ones.
It may be too late;
It may be just right on time, but:
Taking out the trash when the bag is loaded is always in the back of our mind, but sometimes left behind;
Listening to and letting our close ones open up about their troubles is within our capacity, but often overlooked;
Taking a small step of action to create a better world is all so inspiring, but nevertheless underrated;
Bracing ourselves for some good riddance is therapeutic, but certainly challenging.
This blogging platform has been a sweet, calming distraction from the stress of life for me. I have forgotten, but have definitely not abandoned it.
What is the one thing that has gone out of your mind but has all along been your therapy? :)
“I was the first man in space on my street
I had to leave my wife and kids behind
It was a chance I could not pass up on
It was the journey of a lifetime
I threw away my packing up
As they were waving me bye bye
Sometimes all I need is the air that I breathe
And the air that I breathe is so thin I get high…”
Zeds Dead – Journey of a Lifetime
I had to leave my comfort and pride behind. I thought it wasn’t as simple as turning a blind eye to the inconvenience of having to fend for myself 6,793 miles away from home. It was indeed that simple, especially with the independent flair I have which seems to occur naturally to me being the eldest child in the family. It’s funny how my brain is always playing tricks on me; showing me all the different possible scenarios that could play out if I were to embark solo, but yet reminding me from time to time how I managed to survive thus far since I first left my hometown 9 years ago. All I would think and hear myself saying over and again every night after I resolved to go on the journey was that it was a chance I couldn’t pass up on. Besides, we would regret the things that we didn’t do more than the things we did, most of the time. Therefore, I decided to pack my bags, begin the journey of a lifetime, and look back only when I miss it.
Now I’m looking back at the amount of time spent in planning trips a few weeks before, in order to secure tickets with the best timings at the best price; at the sing-along sessions done to entertain one another during the train rides; at the paparazzi-style moments of capturing the beautiful sceneries along the way to see who got the best shot; at the time spent in silence without feeling awkward.
I’m looking back at how much more relaxed the pace of life over there as compared to home was; at how quickly the sunny weather changed to cloudy and breezy; at how slow and peaceful life could get away from the city crowd. I’m remembering the smell of the sea being delivered to our nose by the forthcoming wind; the coarse grains of dirty black sand rubbing against our soles; the sense of newly-established harmony that enveloped us.
I’m grateful for choosing to breathe different, cooler air; to witness the different colors of nature; to enjoy the journey of a lifetime with a colorful bunch of people. I love that I didn’t pass up on the chance, even when there was a way out.