Archive for the ‘writing’ Category

Epic Dream

Posted: April 18, 2014 in thoughts, writing
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I do not know how to start this entry as I am fairly new in sharing my private thoughts to others.  Even to those who, literally, do not know me.  I always believed that my thoughts are mine.  I always thought that if I share too much then I might lose myself, my individuality, in the process.

But I when I look back to those times when people praised my writings, they praised the ones that held part of my soul in it.  So, I am took the hint and decided to finally share what insane, crazy thoughts I have as I believe this is His plan all along.  And hope to touch more than a handful of other lost souls.

Okay.  I believe that’s enough ramblings for now, tonight I share with you a dream I had last night.  I am not sure if the dream is just a result of my very active imagination or if it is telling me something.  You must understand that I love epic fantasies and am currently addicted to Brandon Sanderson’s works.  And this particular dream has the epic fantasy vibe to it.  Perhaps some of you can help me decide whether the dream is a message or just another sign of my addiction.  Perhaps not.  But I still want to share it with anyone willing to read it.


I was standing in the middle of a hedge maze, talking to someone I could feel that I trust.  I could not see his face but I felt that I knew him.  We were arguing, really, because I know that I had to die that day and went to that spot to meet my fate.  He, however, was trying to “save” me.

But I knew it had to be done.  I believed that it was the only way.  So, I died.  In front of my companion.  Well, at least my physical body died and my soul was released from it.   I watched as my companion knelt over my body.  I tried to tell him that I was still there, that I didn’t really die but he could not hear me.

Then, I felt someone behind me.  As I turned I saw a hooded figure and I knew that this was my murderer.  As with my grieving companion, I could not see his face, even after he lifted the hood.  I just know he’s a man and that I should go with him.

So, I left my body and followed my murderer out of the maze.  It was a really large maze and we walked for a while.  It was already dark by the time we emerged from it.  And outside the maze waited more hooded figures.  One of them gave me a pack and pointed west.  I do not know what is in the pack or what awaits me in that direction but I turned and walked into the night.


Like I said, I do not know what it meant or if I will dream of it again tonight. But I think the dream is too good to keep to myself, specially as I am bound to just forget about it if I do not preserve it somehow.


Imperfect Slice

Posted: April 17, 2014 in thoughts, writing
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As I lie in the dark, waiting for sleep to claim me, thoughts start running through my mind.

It has been almost three weeks since I resigned from my job. Three weeks of being lazy around the house. Reading. Trying to write. Cooking. Baking. Watching my favorite shows.

Three weeks of doing everything that I like and experiencing none of the stress I used to experience at work.

It has been a slice of paradise. But an imperfect slice.

For I know that this cannot continue.

I need to find another source of income. I cannot rely on my family to keep me afloat for more than several weeks. It’s just too embarrassing to do that.

But, it seems that things are not going as I would like them to go.

No word from the companies I applied to. Not even a slight sign of interest from any of them.

Even the freelance online gig that I am trying my hand in is not going well.

I find myself running out of options for now and that is scary.

So, yes. Troubling thoughts are what lulls me to sleep every night, in this imperfect slice of paradise I call my life. For now.


Posted: November 22, 2013 in passion, Q and A, writing
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Question of the Day: What are you trying to do?

Well, this is bound to happen.  Sooner or later the day will come when either I will not be in the mood to write or I just have nothing to write about.

Today, I am simply not in the mood to put my thoughts on my virtual paper.  So, yes, what I am trying to do is write.

I don’t know why today just is not my day to write.  I mean, I am not that tired.  I got home a bit early but for some odd reason I just do not have that urge to pick up my imaginary pen.  I actually put off writing until I am too sleepy to think properly.  HAHA!

They say that you are not a writer if you experience writer’s block.  I do not believe that.  Because no matter what your profession is, there will be at least one day in your entire professional career when your passion to work turns from a bright flame to a small ember.

I believe that this is just normal.  We are human, after all, and not robots or computers that, once booted up, will always perform to their fullest.  Unless something is wrong in the circuitry.

However, I hope that this will not last long because I would rather be too tired to write than too indifferent to to do so.  The first one is pretty easy to overcome by getting some rest.  Indifference, on the other hand, has no cure at all and this is something I’d rather not experience at all.

So, even though I have absolutely nothing to write about, here I am racking my brains out to come up with a passable post for today’s question and hoping that tomorrow will be a better day for my blog.


Posted: November 18, 2013 in passion, Q and A, writing
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Question of the Day: What is your dream job of the day?

To create a world of my own with words I put together has always been something I dreamed of doing.  To be able to do this for a living would be a dream come true.  Not just for one day but for the rest of my life.

I always dreamed of seeing my name on the cover of my very own novel someday.  Or create a magical world for children and the child-at-heart.  Or come up with a script for a blockbuster movie.

I want to be a writer not just for the money that it will bring me but for the chance to impart to the world the images, characters, and stories that are forever swirling in my head.

This has been my dream job for the longest time and, I believe, will always be my dream job.  But, I hope it won’t be a dream for much longer.  I am hoping, with all my heart and soul, that it will become my reality soon.

The Dream

Posted: November 17, 2013 in passion, short story, writing
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(something I wrote a while ago)



Lisa was jolted out of a deep sleep by the bedroom door banging shut.

I must have left it open, she thought as she stretched and slowly crawled out of her bed. Then, she realized that it was a hot night and she closed the windows to turn on the AC.

Her heart stared to pound faster as she turned on her bedside lamp and looked around her room. Nothing looks different. Everything looks the same. Shrugging off her unease, she crossed the room to her bathroom.

As she washed her face to calm her nerves down, she heard something. A whisper of a movement in her bedroom. With her face dripping wet, she went back to her room and looked around again. Again, she saw nothing. Everything was the same and all was quiet.

Damn, girl, she thought, you have one heck of an imagination.

She went back to her bathroom, took her towel, and started to wipe her face dry in front of the mirror. And that’s when she saw it. Two tiny marks on the side of her throat. Not fresh wounds but still a little red.

She leaned in closer and tried to examine them. They looked like insect bites except they weren’t swollen. She was afraid to touch them for fear that she’d irritate them. And that’s when her dream came back to her in flashes.

Red eyes. Face of a god. Body of a god. Blocking her way home, a narrow street by the park.

Damn, why did I take this stupid shortcut.

As she looked at this terrifyingly handsome man, she realized that she can’t move or scream. Her legs seemed to be glued to the ground and her mouth sewn shut.

Oh my god!

And that’s when the god started to move towards her. His long legs closing the distance between them one meter at a time. As he closed in she suddenly realized that she wanted whatever is about to happen. That she would give him anything he asked of her. So, she just stood there and stared at the sky as he pounced and bit her on the neck.

She moaned as she felt her blood flowing from her neck to his mouth. She moaned as she realized that her blood is now coursing through his glorious body. She moaned and pulled him closer to her, silently inviting him to take more. An invitation he accepted as he crushed him to her. She went limp in his arms as he continued to drink his fill. She has never felt this good and she did not want it to end.

Please, dear God. Don’t let it end.

A dream, she thought to herself as she looked at the marks again. It was just a dream. Shaking herself free of the dream, she turned to hang her towel but dropped it to the floor instead. For standing at the doorway was the god with the red eyes and glorious body. Smiling at her.

Dream and Write

Posted: August 21, 2013 in passion, writing

I love to read.  Ever since I was a kid, books were my escape.  I love how I can create my own world through the author’s words.   How they can paint you an entirely different world just by putting together words, phrases, and sentences on a piece of paper.

As I grew older, I realized that I can do that myself.  Someday.  For a while, I kept the dream up.  Yes, I did not pursue a writing course in college but I did not make that stop me from writing.  I joined an organization of creative writers.  I joined a college newspaper and made sure I write stories whenever I can.

But, the dream died gradually when I started working.  First, I just could no longer find the time to write.  Then, I was too tired to write.

Until, one day, when I did try to write again I realized that my muse has deserted me.  I found it hard to just sit down and weave magic into my words.  Like, I never even had the power to wield my pen like that in the first place.

This saddened me.  Because I saw my dream wilt and die.  Something I never thought could ever happen.

And I tried to live with that for a couple of years but I realized I just could not let that happen.  I need to write, for myself or for others.  It is a part of me.  Part of what makes me happy.  Part of what makes me… me.

So, I decided to try again.  I started to blog.  In fact, I started several blogs.  But I never had the patience to maintain it until now.

Now, I have decided to make this blog the one that will last.  However, this blog will be more than just a way for me to let my thoughts be known because I picked up a few more interests along the way, evident in my previous posts.

I just hope that by mixing it up I can have a few more followers.

But, you will have to bear with me as I am a bit rusty.  Hopefully, though, I will be able to wield my metaphorical pen as I once used to.  Like a magic wand. 🙂


Posted: October 22, 2012 in passion, writing

Writing was always my passion.

But over the past few years, I gradually lost the fire in me to do so.  I am not sure whether I was just too busy trying to earn a living or if I was just too afraid to put myself out there, amidst all those successful bloggers. 

Still, I tried, countless times, to start my own blog but I could not sustain it.  Might be because I tried to write about something that I wasn’t truly passionate about.  After a few months, I find myself losing interest and totally stopped writing.  But after a few more months, the call will be there again and I will start, once more, and not sustain it, again.

Now, however, I could no longer ignore the urge to write about something, anything under the sun.  So, I decided to try, again. 

But, this time, I decided to write about something I know. And, hopefully, I can sustain it. 🙂