on second chances

You ever feel like you’ve wanted a second chance with that someone?

That maybe that first experience was far too short the first time around, and isn’t it unfortunate that for whatever reason, you didn’t make that much of an impression on him that first time around for him to want to see you again, but somehow in a twist of fate, he did a number on you that you would warrant want a second, third, fourth, a lifetime chance with him?

I mean, they say it’s supposed to be a numbers game, right? So why can’t it be a numbers game with that same person, but then why is there a plot twist because that same person doesn’t even know you’re alive?

And to make matters worse, why is that sometimes wishes do come true, and then one lovely evening, you DO happen to get a second chance with that person, and to further make things more interesting, wouldn’t it be funny if you got a second chance from that person exactly 2 years later? The chances of remembering the Higher Powers at this point is high. You *KNEW* there was something there the first time around, see you KNEW IT! Maybe it was bad timing, 2 years ago. Maybe this time things will be better. SECOND CHANCES, third, fourth, even a fifth! You know at this point that someone is watching you, because why else would you meet that someone again, exactly 2 years later and your heart is fluttering like it was, same beats 2 years ago?! See, you were right all along. NOW, you can set things right! Full steam ahead.

So you go all out this time around. You get excited. You practise in front of the mirror. You make sure to avoid on the broken eggshells that you did before.  Na-uh! This time, you’ll mesmerize him.

And then, like a very slow deck-of-cards that has just been flicked,  you begin to have this slow realization or.. shall we say, understanding, of the Higher Powers’ method to madness… you realize why it was only limited to first chances.

Maybe you needed that second chance, 2 years later, not to convince him that you were worth it and could be an important part of his life. No, maybe there’s another reason why second chances drop. Maybe you needed that time to gain a deeper sense of who you are, not of him. Maybe he wasn’t the one that needed convincing. Maybe the convincing was meant for you. Maybe you needed to convince yourself that you are far, far better… than just a first chance, one random night.

Maybe you are now stronger after 2 years, because you come to the conclusion that you should not be limited to just a first chance. That you are more than a mere encounter. Maybe you are meant to be more than an anecdote, more than just a starry-filled night. Maybe you’re actually a story. Lets go higher. Maybe you’re a best-selling novel of grand proportions. Made of night, and day, and sometimes those starry nights have comets and meteor showers and fireworks, and sometimes those nights can be quiet and foggy and moonlit as well. Maybe those nights have stories for you and him, and they are also stories that people tell one another. Maybe you’re not a gimmick like a first chance, or a happening like a 1001 nights of stories to keep someone entertained. Maybe you are not meant to be second chance, or a third, or a fourth, or a lifetime.

Maybe you’re meant to be more, a story, a novel, a best seller, anything but a first chance…. but with someone else.

on finding my sunflowers

on my quest to live a more healthier life where i'm not always tired, i decided to take up running recently. i also see its the new thing amongst all dubai people to participate... the spartan race, the Nike run, the colour run, the electric run, the bubble run. running is really the cool thing to do in good old dubs once the temperature has hit such remarkable cool numbers.

rather than give you a blurb that all newbie health fanatics do whence they have started a new sport, such as showing you the distance they have run on their running app on their social media, or take pictures of their shoes/vegan cookies,  i will spare you from the melodrama, and tell you something else that this age-old sport have given to this old soul - the power of introspection.

i do believe introspection is something that someone with ADD like me needed. 

a few days ago, i got an epiphany that i felt have been remiss from my life for a while now. i was straightening my hair (sometimes i like to clean up), and i realized that hey, i think some people like me. as a person. because someone randomly invited me to a party. it was a friday night. i haven't gone to one of those things in a while. and then i started to think, well, hey, i do think *most* people like me. i'm not a bad cat. a little eccentric maybe, but in general, i'm alright yeah? i like to give, so maybe this is something good coming back at me. in fact, hey, do i like to give? am i a good giver? in life? because you know, lately i haven't been. in fact, lately, i've been selfish. its a fine balance, this living thing. i'm either struggling at being a doormat, or either struggling in standing up for myself. and since i'm pretty bad at balancing my life, i always forsake one for the other. i then started to think, i really have not been that much of a good giver. in fact i've just been having fun. not fun fun like party party fun, but fun fun as in reclaiming my life back, as in doing things that i like to do like outdoor stuff, or being healthy for myself without worrying about what people will say when it comes to being a pescetarian or forsaking vices and giving them the stiff upper lip, and this comes at a cost...

the cost of not seeing family, not  giving friends the attention, not really hanging out with parents when they're visiting... and then i realized, man.. even after i do all this, why are they still being nice to me? is it really because they're obligated to me, or because i bring it out? then i started thinking about said family, about said friends, about said parents... how life is trickling us by. the kids in my family, they're growing up. every few months, there's a birthday to celebrate. and once upon a time, i used to just whip out my camera and snap away my little bundles of joy. and then after a while i stopped. why? well, first a hobby became a job became a chore. and second, i was never in the pictures. that made me sad. 

and then my friends, and their ridiculous adventures with me. they'd been through thick and thin with me, especially at my lowest point in my life a few years ago, and i'd take their photos, because they made me happy, and guess what? they never saw the photos! why? because they're sitting somewhere in my computer, buried in piles of files that i'm afraid to look because there's 2000 of them and where has the time gone?

and then my parents? my poor mother has to make appointments when she wants to go out with me, when she's visiting, because... because i'm trying to live my life, trying to balance this job thing with living thing, and her pictures at the sunflower fields last summer? somewhere in my computer.

all these people. all these connections. tied. to pictures. there are people going on, living their lives, and all i really can do, show them my gratitude, is by giving them my pictures. their pictures... that was sitting in my computer.

this was my epiphany.  i'm not a giver. i'm a disgrace.

i've been looking for the meaning in my life for so long. looking for it everywhere. and all along, it was right there.

i don't have much to give. i own nothing really, and i'm fine with that. because my heart is already full with having so much already, its enough. i probably will not amount to being a Picasso one day as I had envisioned, nor will i leave behind any startling legacy like build some innovative app thats going to change humanity, nor will i give anyone an heir, and its...alright! but i do have a lot going for me. i have a skill. its something that i have found later in life, and i still have a chance to hone it, to craft it, and to use it to give, or MAKE something, because guess what, this skill is supposed to remind someone how they *felt* that certain day, or evoke memories that will give a lifetime of joy. and if i wasn't using it in a way that wasn't even being utilized for the people that really mattered, then really... what is life? what was my life worth? advertisements for clients? really? is that it?

this was my epiphany. i can make lasting impressions on people. with my skill. a skill that i love.

so for my nephew's birthday, and for all my beloved nephews and nieces birthday, i will make sure i do give back. that what i do give back is something that they will have even when they are older, and instead of feeling sorry for myself that i'm not in the pictures, i just have to wake up and remember that is what tripods and remotes are for (i mean, i do take selfies that way, jeez...) and for my friends that have been there with me in all my goofy and dark moments, i can't be there for you all the times with your memorable events but i can give you some of those memories and not have them sit in my computer! and for the woman that has given me life and is my sunshine, if i can't give you sunflowers, i'm essentially worthless so i will make sure i actually give you those memories in pictures and not have them in my computer either.

this was my epiphany.  this is my meaning for my life, and i'm going to own it.

 

 

on disappearing

i haven't written in so long. it feels like i've abandoned an old friend.

i miss writing. i wish i had never stopped. i met some of my bestest friends through my words. there is something really beautiful about putting everything out there, and people getting to know you and falling in love with you with your words. 

the need to write stemmed from my need of verbally regurgitating everything i wanted to express when i was super excited about things. somehow i came across as less of a klutz and more of a sophisticated person when i put my words into long expressive essays.

after i stopped writing, i found photography to be a great substitute.

a few months ago, i felt like i couldn't even do that anymore.

i wanted to not talk to anyone. anymore. about anything. just ctrl+alt+del my life.

i'm not sure why. so i deactivated the one thing that people use these days to talk to you... facebook.

i didn't miss it. i felt so free. no more social norms to put up with. i could do anything. i could be me again.

i was motivated to make pictures for myself again. i did.

however, i found out that i also became a social pariah. people got married. engaged. had babies. someone died. someone left. and i was clueless about it. friends told me and kept up with me. but some i missed out. in hindsight, not everything was bad. i didn't *have to* know everything about everyone. the world did not come to an end.

i activated my facebook again last night. i was with my friends. i missed seeing them. i missed their stories. 

its a different kind of loneliness this time around though.

i missed human connection. i remember crying about it in my post 2 years ago during my trip to spain. that feeling came back. so i deactivated my facebook because i wanted to connect with people on a humanistic level. meet people the old-fashioned way. leave things to chances.  whats not beautiful about uncertainty?  face-to-face. not the back of your phone. and if they can't do that, thats ok, i'll move on. life is so short.  i also deactivated because i wanted to connect with myself again. im happy to note that after being lost for a while, i have found myself again. but like a typical libra, i am unable to balance this delicate game of being there and not always being present.

i still want to disappear. is that bad? and then when it's ok, i'm ready to come back. but that is a childish thing to do, is it not? why should i disappear? is that not the same thing as running away? when has that solved anything at all?

"I could disappear from the face of the earth, and the world would go on moving without the slightest twinge. Things were tremendously complicated, to be sure, but one thing was clear: no one needed me." -Haruki Murakami,  The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle

"I could disappear from the face of the earth, and the world would go on moving without the slightest twinge. Things were tremendously complicated, to be sure, but one thing was clear: no one needed me."

-Haruki Murakami,  The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle

i don't know what it is i'm looking for. i'd love to just look at someone's eyes, and not have to explain anything. i'd love to embrace this beautiful, albeit fragile uncertainty and laugh with it like an old friend.  just like the novel, i'd love to see that the disappearing act is more than just a chance event.