2010. This is the first time this year I'm gonna think this, uh, pathetic. Thank you. I've been living my 2010 life the best I could (if it's school we're talking about, well, I'm surviving), and I suppose this blog deserves that much attention I've given to living, even just for now.
This may sound very boring. Ha. But maybe that equates to the boring, (except for the kids part :P), yet demanding (even the kids part haha), school life that pretty much takes up 50% of my attention this 2010. 20% goes to org works. 10% to sleeping, eating, movies, music. 10 % to face-to-face socializing and online networking sites. 5% to trying to save money and commuting. 5% to leisure reading. Hm, more or less.
To me, writing is pretty much just like living. No, not because they are both made up of a complicated syntax (oh well, maybe it sometimes is because of this, but that is not my point here, my dear). And not just because truly writing and truly living makes me, if not happy, satisfied at least. These two things involves similar processes--from starting, then to the bumps on the way, and, finally getting to, or to bringing everything to, their endings.
They're pretty much the same because when I find myself faced with the reality of doing either of these things, I just know that I have to have a clean, blank slate to begin with--no worries about what I've done before. When I write, I want to start with a new, clean page, with the cursor blinking at me as if trying to get the words out of my system. With life, time seems to ticktock-ing loudly at both my ears, blaring at me: get up, get going! At both instances I find myself staring blankly unto space, not knowing how to take that first step, or worse, having no clue to what that first step is. But at the moment that step is taken, things start flowing in--in good ways, in bad ways, in ways I could, but sometimes would rather not, expect.
Most of the time, I try to just write, and just live. Do what I could. Give out what I got. But I can't help looking back at what I've finished, then here I go: Edit. Cancel. Find. Replace. Grammar check. Spelling check. Evaluate. Make do. Assess. Think. Think think. THINK. Feel. Close my eyes. Realize people may have done better, and that my endeavors are just pea-sized compared to their fully-developed, harvested farms. Frustration! And then I realize I have ran out of fuel. Then, as if on cue, the distractions come along likethe Glee cast singing Somebody To Love (phenomenal!) a well-funded summer festival parade.
What do I do? Well I tend to go with the flow; let the distractions do what they do (distract me, duh) as they pass. And when they've passed? I would like to say, as much as I would want to do really, that I go back and finish what I've started. But no, this doesn't happen every time. Sometimes (though it might be better to say that it happens usually), I go follow that parade, filling my whole self up with its colors and music. And when I've realized that the colors and the music appeal more, I frustrate in the thought that I couldn't finish what I've been doing before they came along. The interest is redirected. Toodaloo, writing. Toodaloo, life.
But there are cases when I do go back and finish--for reasons I (can) think of only when I am back there. Maybe it's because there are people who expect me to finish--expectations pull me in most of the time, you know. Maybe it's because the parade has overwhelmed me to the point it got nauseating, that I just really had to go back to the things I know would make me feel better, if not well.
And one last thing (for I believe I am now running out of fuel--for writing tonight, that is) not everything I've said or done can mean something to the world. Maybe it may mean something to me (oh hello to the egocentrism of it all!), but to the also-egocentric lives of others they may mean little, if not nothing at all. Not everything that makes sense to me, makes sense to others. Not everything I've done makes sense at all.
So does this?
With writing there is this thing called plot diagram, which I could still remember studying for all the upper year levels I've spend in STC. This plot diagram gives the smooth flow of ideas and emotions in the story. Why a smooth flow? Well, basically, it's for coherence. However, I find it hard, both in writing and living, to have such. As much as I want to find and give logic, coherence, and the smooth flow of things, I couldn't always do. Maybe it's because I am lacking in focus, or maybe I am really just out of fuel. But it gives me a realization: Not all things connected to each other can come together as coherent. But then again, that's just me.
Going back to the plot diagram, it has parts. There is the beginning, the rising action, the climax, a falling action, then the resolve. More or less, I see (and try to pattern) life as is. But unfortunately (or is it?) both have the liberty not to follow suit. For example, there are stories without resolutions, and there are lives abruptly taken away without even reaching the climax of it all. As much as I (or maybe everyone, that is) want to make settling concluding sentences and happily-ever-afters happen, they just would not always happen (yes, I am concerned here with that syntax commonality thing unconsciously. Sometimes, even in life, you've got to take back your words). So I end here, not knowing if it this entire block of ideas qualify for a good write. Syntax's fault. My fuel's fault. Life's fault.
BTW, this is really for the wiiiiin! Best mix (plus the video) for 2009! :D:D:D:D
This may sound very boring. Ha. But maybe that equates to the boring, (except for the kids part :P), yet demanding (even the kids part haha), school life that pretty much takes up 50% of my attention this 2010. 20% goes to org works. 10% to sleeping, eating, movies, music. 10 % to face-to-face socializing and online networking sites. 5% to trying to save money and commuting. 5% to leisure reading. Hm, more or less.
To me, writing is pretty much just like living. No, not because they are both made up of a complicated syntax (oh well, maybe it sometimes is because of this, but that is not my point here, my dear). And not just because truly writing and truly living makes me, if not happy, satisfied at least. These two things involves similar processes--from starting, then to the bumps on the way, and, finally getting to, or to bringing everything to, their endings.
They're pretty much the same because when I find myself faced with the reality of doing either of these things, I just know that I have to have a clean, blank slate to begin with--no worries about what I've done before. When I write, I want to start with a new, clean page, with the cursor blinking at me as if trying to get the words out of my system. With life, time seems to ticktock-ing loudly at both my ears, blaring at me: get up, get going! At both instances I find myself staring blankly unto space, not knowing how to take that first step, or worse, having no clue to what that first step is. But at the moment that step is taken, things start flowing in--in good ways, in bad ways, in ways I could, but sometimes would rather not, expect.
Most of the time, I try to just write, and just live. Do what I could. Give out what I got. But I can't help looking back at what I've finished, then here I go: Edit. Cancel. Find. Replace. Grammar check. Spelling check. Evaluate. Make do. Assess. Think. Think think. THINK. Feel. Close my eyes. Realize people may have done better, and that my endeavors are just pea-sized compared to their fully-developed, harvested farms. Frustration! And then I realize I have ran out of fuel. Then, as if on cue, the distractions come along like
What do I do? Well I tend to go with the flow; let the distractions do what they do (distract me, duh) as they pass. And when they've passed? I would like to say, as much as I would want to do really, that I go back and finish what I've started. But no, this doesn't happen every time. Sometimes (though it might be better to say that it happens usually), I go follow that parade, filling my whole self up with its colors and music. And when I've realized that the colors and the music appeal more, I frustrate in the thought that I couldn't finish what I've been doing before they came along. The interest is redirected. Toodaloo, writing. Toodaloo, life.
But there are cases when I do go back and finish--for reasons I (can) think of only when I am back there. Maybe it's because there are people who expect me to finish--expectations pull me in most of the time, you know. Maybe it's because the parade has overwhelmed me to the point it got nauseating, that I just really had to go back to the things I know would make me feel better, if not well.
And one last thing (for I believe I am now running out of fuel--for writing tonight, that is) not everything I've said or done can mean something to the world. Maybe it may mean something to me (oh hello to the egocentrism of it all!), but to the also-egocentric lives of others they may mean little, if not nothing at all. Not everything that makes sense to me, makes sense to others. Not everything I've done makes sense at all.
So does this?
With writing there is this thing called plot diagram, which I could still remember studying for all the upper year levels I've spend in STC. This plot diagram gives the smooth flow of ideas and emotions in the story. Why a smooth flow? Well, basically, it's for coherence. However, I find it hard, both in writing and living, to have such. As much as I want to find and give logic, coherence, and the smooth flow of things, I couldn't always do. Maybe it's because I am lacking in focus, or maybe I am really just out of fuel. But it gives me a realization: Not all things connected to each other can come together as coherent. But then again, that's just me.
Going back to the plot diagram, it has parts. There is the beginning, the rising action, the climax, a falling action, then the resolve. More or less, I see (and try to pattern) life as is. But unfortunately (or is it?) both have the liberty not to follow suit. For example, there are stories without resolutions, and there are lives abruptly taken away without even reaching the climax of it all. As much as I (or maybe everyone, that is) want to make settling concluding sentences and happily-ever-afters happen, they just would not always happen (yes, I am concerned here with that syntax commonality thing unconsciously. Sometimes, even in life, you've got to take back your words). So I end here, not knowing if it this entire block of ideas qualify for a good write. Syntax's fault. My fuel's fault. Life's fault.
BTW, this is really for the wiiiiin! Best mix (plus the video) for 2009! :D:D:D:D
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