The Weekend Pages

I admire people who are disciplined and motivated with their goals and their routines. Whenever I kill my free time scrolling on TikTok or binge-watching videos on YouTube, I always feel this pressure and this feeling of not doing enough to be successful or at least accomplish my daily tasks.  And mind you, my errands and chores never end. After work, I have classes and I also need to eat, stretch, clean, do the laundry, and dust off books ( I still don't have bookcases). It's easy to list off my chores but it's hard to do, especially when you're exhausted from a long and busy shift. Lately, January has been, kind of exhausting. I'm always drained after my shift. I sometimes forget to make myself fresh and hot meals because I'm too tired to stand up.  5 days of being a corporate slave really drain the hell out of me lately. I used to make work as a distraction from my recent breakup and I was happy

I'm neither a musician nor composer but I know how to write down my thoughts and describe my feelings. Although, my work will never be perfect and might sound cringy to some. Still, I made it. I made it out of love and pain. Funny how all of us become poets when our hearts get hurt. It's one thing that fascinates me about us, humans.  We're like a soft ball with emotions and logic stuffed inside. All rolled into one. On a heartbreaking moment in our lives, we tend to shut down and ignore our logical selves. We succumb to pain and drown into our sadness. Wishing to stop the invisible pain we feel inside.  We immortalize our pain with our words.  Pain is addicting. It's like a shot of dopamine that would make me write more. And you, without a doubt, caused me pain. You gave it to me without remorse and I gladly took it. I drank from the cup you handed me. Thinking it would save us. Thinking it would make you love me more. I was wrong. It was poison. I spat blood and bled....

Hey, it's me again. I have to be at work in less than an hour but here I am, still blogging. I had an epiphany and I couldn't get this thought out of my mind for hours now. I suddenly love being alone and isolated from all the noise outside. Living alone for years and most especially now that I'm single, made me more independent. I do the chores and I work for a living. I still couldn't get over the fact that I can do all the things, my ex did, like carrying heavy stuff even though I'm not allowed by my doctor due to my ear infection and lumbar injury earlier this year.  I'm stubborn but I have to get things done to live comfortably. And indeed, I appreciate this solitude much more than the solitude I thought I had last 2020. I love the quiet mornings while working. I love the cold wind brushing up my skin as I admire the pretty sunrise. I love my morning bread. These are some of the little things that I am grateful for.  Though I have to admit, it gets lonely s...