Nihilism at its finest

I’m just going to write and post this because lately every time I attempt to put something in writing I end up deleting it.

I’m tired. Often I find I’m too tired to write lately, which is very saddening, because writing is my therapy. I recently received a job promotion at my 9-5, and the best part is, I genuinely enjoy what I do. The way it works out though, after taxes and deductions, I actually make about the same as I made in my previous position. In my previous job, there were overtime opportunities, so often I’d actually make MORE than I do now. I know the experience I’m receiving in this new position is priceless (or so I’m told), but I’m feeling cynical about it all, and a little hopeless. I have loads of student and credit card debt, bills on top of bills, and no end in sight. I was more on top of my finances when I was serving tables than I am now. But I hated serving tables. Mostly because I hated the questions whenever I called home, inquiring as to why I was still serving tables. I have always struggled with trying to make others happy without thinking about my needs. I fear “failure”, whatever that is. And so I worked my ass off and got out of serving and into a coveted 9-5 comfy job. Yes it’s comfortable, yes I have benefits. It’s all good. But is it? Is this what I’ve wanted, or is this what we are told to want? I let the system brainwash me, and now I feel more confused than 16 year old me.

I hate to play the millennial card, but we are a doomed generation. As children we were told we could be ANYTHING we wanted to be. But reality hits when you turn 17 and you are told you must go to university, but to do that you have to take out thousands of dollars in student loans; but don’t worry, you don’t have to pay those until 6 months after you graduate!! So you enjoy your liberal arts degree because it fulfills your soul and mind, until 6 months before graduation, when the anxiety and realization of what 17-year-old you signed up for begins to creep in. So there you are, smiling through the fear as you collect your $40,000 piece of paper with absolutely no career prospects and no clue how to manage your finances.

Here I am, 2.5 years after achieving my degree, with this career thing I was supposed to get, and a boyfriend who also has a full time career, yet we are struggling to make ends meet. And it makes me so frustrated and upset. If this is the life society shoves down our throats from high school into adulthood, we need to re-evaluate what is truly important in life. I no longer receive those calls from home wondering where the hell my life is headed, because in their eyes, I’ve hit the jackpot! I have my career started, there’s no need to worry! Right? Well, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. When I got to the end of the rainbow there was no pot of gold, just a heap of anxiety and a slap in the face from reality.

And so I’m going to make more time for the things I love to do. Writing is my number one, and painting is a new thing in which I find great enjoyment. I need to piece together how to make an income from writing so I can finally do what I love to do. If anyone has any tips, please let me know. 😊

I apologize for the bitterness. I just needed to return to my therapeutic ways. I have many positive things upcoming, but today I needed to vent. Does anyone else ever just feel so frustrated, but they don’t feel they have a proper outlet? Thank you for allowing me to unwind.

 

 

 

 

Other Half

I know I don’t say these words enough, but know that they are so;

I love you and will love you until my heart beats no more.

How can I know that I love you so when I’m barely 25 and you’re two years my junior?

Well, beautiful soul, this is how I know:

I carried half of you inside my belly, and although the timing wasn’t right, the feeling was.

You’re the man of my dreams and my partner in crime. You stood by my side as my only support system when I felt as though I lost half of myself. I will forever love you for how you care for me even in my darkest times.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Note to Self:

The pain you cause me is impalpable. I can’t begin to describe the inner anguish you stir when you tell me I’m not good enough. I’m never good enough for you.  I’m always trying to prove myself, to be better than I was the day before. It’s never enough. You always unearth another flaw; another inconsistency woven into my fabric.

Well, thanks to you, I’m unravelling.

Free me for a moment, tormented mind, from your unforgiving shackles. Free me of your own impossible expectations and of others’.

You are only one woman, you can’t take on the world.

 

Breathe.

 

 

Featured Image: Sunrise

An Uninformed Take on Picasso and Surrealism

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Reclining Woman Reading (Femme Couchee Lisant), 1960

A week ago I had the pleasure of viewing the Vancouver Art Gallery’s exhibit Pablo Picasso: The Artist and His Muses. My art history background is minimal, so pardon my ignorance when speaking of it. One thing I did learn from my past studies of art is this: we can ponder and decipher works of art at exhaustive length, but what you take from art is what matters most. While I do love and appreciate the curator notes that accompany art, I often find they take away from the experience of the piece itself. Halfway through the Picasso exhibit I stopped reading the notes altogether and simply observed the paintings, and what I found is that art cannot be limited to a paragraph, it needs to speak for itself. I wandered around the gallery, offering each piece a gaze until something grasped my attention. Picasso’s work in Surrealism pulled me into a form of art that lacks limitation and stretches the constraints of reason. For an over-thinker such as myself, a style of art that is absent of control and perfectionism is to be exalted.

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The Weeping Woman, 1937

 

Picasso defies the geometrics of the corpus of man; the boundaries of even the most definite biological truths are pushed with paintings such as The Weeping Woman (Picasso, Pablo. 1937). You experience the face of the muse from various perspectives simultaneously, from either side and the centre at once. Although to the rational mind this painting depicts impossibility and therefore a falsehood, it speaks of a truth louder than the most perfect depiction of a woman could. By capturing various perspectives, you experience the anguish and sadness of the muse from all angles at once, thus being drawn more deeply into Picasso’s own intentions. He successfully forgoes what we know to be aesthetically so, and speaks to a truth that is deeper than reason. It’s like art for the soul.

Picasso has awakened my creative soul that was in a deep slumber for a few months. He reminded me that true art cannot be limited to my own controlling thoughts and what is known to be societally accepted. You must stretch the boundaries of what you thought possible. In art, perfection is not the goal, truth is; and within truth lay beauty.

 

Featured image: The Kiss. Picasso, Pablo. 1969.

 

Edit: I’d like to concede that I was wrong in referring to the above mentioned art as Surrealism, when it is in fact Cubism. Thank you to the blogger Audrey for kindly pointing that out! Although Cubism inspired the Surrealist movement, it was wrong to group them together. I still stand by everything else I said about Picasso, his art and the influence it had on me :).

 

 

Red-Eye

There is no greater sorrow than to recall our times of joy in wretchedness. – Dante Alighieri, Inferno

Have you ever been on a red-eye flight,

With your mind racing faster than the speed of light?

Thoughts pinging against the windshield of your head,

Corruption, lies, deceit- it all seems so clear.

Yet we remain complaisant,

It isn’t alright.

I am splitting at the seams-

When innocent men are shot dead in the streets you used to walk,

And the real criminals are the ones on the ballot.

As we watch it unfold, the horror is muffled by the screen it’s received on,

It’s like a really bad reality TV show-

Wake up America,

This is your reality now.

When it’s your turn to speak to the camera- what will you say?

Will you share yet another photo of clothes or shoes,

Get lost in the mindless celebrity feuds,

Or will you stand up and fucking say something?

But it’s easy to be a social justice warrior at 5 am and with 37,000 ft beneath me,

With a birds-eye view of what the earth once was, not what its become.

Let us revert to what matters most-

Not the things, but the people and places.

Because a life void of materialism is a life of fulfillment-

And a life void of experiences and people to share them with,

Isn’t a life worth living.

 

 

 

 

Spread The Love

I have been staring at a blank New Post screen every day for over a week now. Forgive me, fellow bloggers, for my absence. I know I’ve said this before, but this time, it’s different. It’s not solely because life has been crazy busy, which it has, but I’ve always been able to schedule in some well needed blogging time. This time, I’ve just been at a loss for words. The shootings of Alton Sterling, Philando Castile and the five Dallas officers reduced me to silence. I haven’t even attempted to watch the supporting videos, I know it’s cowardly, especially given the fact that the loved ones of those who were murdered are the ones who must bear the burden at the end of the day.

To be honest, I so badly wanted to respond to these incidents as soon as they occurred, but I didn’t know where to begin. I didn’t know what I could possibly add to the discussion that would do any good. I would offer my condolences, a word on gun laws and the stupidity of racism, but it all felt so empty to me. I turned away from social media altogether, including Word Press, which usually provides me a happy escape. Seeing our neighbours to the south in such a state of civil unrest pains me. When people lose trust in those who are supposed to protect and serve their nation, things turn really nasty, really fast. It’s no secret that cops fatally killing innocent black Americans has become an epidemic. And the retaliation on innocent cops as a reaction to these murders is equally troubling. I use the word epidemic because it truly is. People are angry, scared, helpless and fighting for their lives. I can’t even begin to imagine what it must feel like to be a black American right now. A broken taillight or playing with a toy gun can turn into a fatal life sentence. The problem is racism. The problem is the lack of gun control. The problem is hate. The problem is ignorance.

I’ve been thinking of the problems hate breeds. It divides us all. We will live in fear of one another. These problems need to be addressed with solutions, with action. Love speaks louder than hate, so I’ve thought of an achievable plan for all of us:

Spread the love once a day, in some way.

I am challenging myself, and YOU, to begin actively spreading positivity and love to those who need it or deserve it.

Say hello or smile at passersby on the street to brighten someones day.

Pack an extra lunch and give it to someone who would go hungry otherwise.

Donate clothes and useful items to a local shelter rather than just tossing them.

Hold the door open for someone, or offer a helping hand to someone in need.

Whatever it is you do to make this world a better place, no matter how small it seems, it does matter. Positive action should cause a positive reaction. And while I’m afraid I can’t provide a solution to the bigger issues at hand here, what I can do is love louder, be more positive, and share that energy with those around me. Here is what I hope to do:

  1. Do a good deed once a day, big or small actions.
  2. Focus on the positives rather than the negatives in ALL aspects of my life.
  3. Spread the love and positive energy to others.
  4. Share the little things I did to spread the love in a weekly blog post.
  5. Hopefully get other wonderful bloggers involved in the spread the love movement.

I’d love to hear what you do, want to do, or have done in the past to spread the love to those who need it. What are your hopes and goals for a brighter future? Either share in the comments or as a pingback to this post, add “SpreadTheLove” to your tags, and as a thank you I will share your blog and your goals to spread the love in my weekly posts!

 

Let us band together and silence hate.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kilig

I remember it like it was yesterday, the day you came back.

It was a typical December night for Ottawa. The cold air prickled against my cheeks and nose, the only part of my body left unbundled. The sky had fallen to complete darkness by dinner time, but I remember the way the snowflakes sparkled as they fluttered past the street lamps ever so softly. I recall leaving my apartment on Riverside that evening with butterflies in my stomach. I walked in silence down the road to the bus station that would bring me to you, my heart hammering in my chest and the butterflies not letting up for even a moment. 3 months time and 3,000 miles had kept us apart, but finally I could have you once more. Our future wasn’t clear but I didn’t care, it was our night.

The 25 minute ride on the 97-Airport bus felt like a lifetime, but every stop lessened the distance between us a little more. I had never been to the Ottawa Airport before, and I was so nervous about missing my stop that I got off a stop too soon and had a 10 minute walk to Arrivals. Sometimes love is so inexplicably powerful that it takes over your entire being. Darkness surrounded me but the glow of the airport in the distance pulled me forward. I didn’t feel frightened by my new surroundings, nor cold from the relentless winter. People always talk about that moment when you realize someone is the one. This evening was the moment I knew. Love doesn’t need explanation, it cannot always be rationalized. Love was my driving force that evening, and it pulsed through my being with unquestionable vehement.

 

I remember scoring a leather massage chair next to baggage claim but I couldn’t sit still. The butterflies had expanded their real estate and taken over my entire body. I paced anxiously, questioning the route of my nerves. I checked the time on my phone as I counted down the minutes to your scheduled arrival. 3 months isn’t a long time but it equates to a lifetime when you’re without the one you love. What if’s started plaguing my mind. What if I’m not who he remembers me to be? What if it doesn’t work out? What if he leaves again? What if…What if…

 

But then, when I noticed you in the distance, my doubts were silenced. I could feel your signature ear-to-ear smile even though you were still 100 yards away. Everything around us seemed to blur as I started walking, and then running towards you. Nothing mattered anymore. I didn’t care who was looking as I jumped into your arms and wrapped my legs around your waist. Tears were falling from our eyes as we laughed and kissed and touched and reunited. I could have held on to you for forever in that very moment.


Inspired by the Filipino word Kilig –Written in response to the daily Filipino word prompt for Word High July