Death of a Wallflower

24602676510_65ba5bd53e_o

Hello again.

Guess who’s back to write here again?

I didn’t mean to disappear for so long, but how does one even start writing again after the death of Robin Williams, one of the greatest actors in the world? Granted, I don’t know him personally, but you still feel the whole 5-stages of grieve and I was just hoping for the grieving to end and then pick the right moment to start again. It never came. But then, the funny thing about death, famous or not, human or animal, is this: The world just carries on moving forward—nothing stands still; once death happens, it gets acknowledged, and then, the moment passes.

I realised then that there’s no right moment to start picking yourself up after grieving… and perhaps I’m also the only one who makes such a big deal out of the world’s apathy on death.

But yes. I’m back to write again because I’ve missed writing and I’ve missed doing something nice just for myself. For the past year or so, I’ve been busy with “my life”—graduating from college with the grades I wanted (finally, good God!), looking for jobs (interned and then moved on to a full time job), salvaging my dead HDD on my MacBook (goodbye savings) and trying to make ends meet (bloody college loans). Most of my precious free time were either spent freelancing or out drinking with myself in pubs because I needed some solitude but mostly it was because it was just the weirdest period of my life—the whole year just felt like it was standing really still, and I kept wondering if this was all that there is to my life as an adult.

An acquaintance once asked me if I go out drinking every Friday night and that really made me considered my nightlife choices. I suppose I did, because I had nothing worthwhile to do once I had finished my freelance projects. I mean, what do you do when you have some time left after work–and on a Friday night no less? I probably should sleep, like any normal tired working adult, but I’m essentially just lying there doing nothing productive (indeed in my crazy mind, resting = wasting time). I wanted to savour my freedom out of the office! I wanted to enjoy my night out! I wanted to watch the orange street lamps aglow in the night as I whiz through town in a taxi.

I wanted to do something, anything—just not float around and exist, I suppose.

Anyway, I don’t know where this entry is going. I’m really just trying to channel my inner chic Carrie Bradshaw, seated in front of a window, smoking and thinking aloud while click-clacking away on the MacBook, but in reality, I’m without a cigarette and I feel my contact lenses shrivelling up in my eyes while I click-clack away on my MacBook with only 15% battery life to go. Even though I’m still not sure what this bloody weblog of mine is about (and I’ve already written 14 entires here only to delete them away), I suppose it’s really just a ‘thinking out loud, living my life to the fullest’ platform and here’s the thing—as of late last 2015, I’ve ended all freelancing projects, stopped drinking and stress fagging, online mindless shopping too, etc.

It is my first step to being nicer to myself.

Stop my wallflower persona nonsense.
I’m going to start living.

It’s cliche, I know.
Cheers to a new beginning.

Now time for bed.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s