Another Day Goes

I work at night, and I sleep all day. Such is life for a person who has earned a living feeding off another country's resources, and with good fortune, I've done my best and my part to responsibly face each challenge with much aplomb. I have carefully thumbed through materials, researched, learned and unlearned. I've crossed chasms of unsuccessful projects and pushed boundaries when it comes to my craft. But at the end of my night, when I come home, that's when it starts.

I am an alcoholic.

Right. I'm just messing with you.

It's when I realize how I have changed over time. I am more mellow now. I lose myself in a book (most recently, prolly Facebook, harhar!). I could keep silent and just have a random idea tossed in my head for hours on end. I can stay by my window and watch people busily tend to their lawns or clean their cars (I live in a place where garages are not really used as garages.). I have come to believe that I have grown. Back then, I would kick and claw and scream for a chance at something - a styling job, an article, another job, some time with a boyfriend, coffee time with friends. Now, I've learned how to back out, bow out gracefully and even admit my mistakes automatically (Well, more often than not...).

Last week, I just received some pretty bad news. I am still in shock as to how it happened. I can't imagine what I could have done, or what could I not have done to make something happen. I am, of course, devastated. For whatever reason this happened, I was told, by a very wise man, that it's just a snag and that I'll get through it. I am... Everyday. Slowly but surely. When something beyond your comprehension happens, the first thing that comes to mind is to blame someone, get hurt and start clinging on to dear life or to cling to people that matter. Thank God people I love somehow love me too. They're still around, and not going away for a long time... I hope. The doubts creep in and the fear sets in. You're boxed in. You're trapped. You're stuck. Then you drown in self-pity and think that it's the end of the world (Okay, too dramatic, but hey, don't stay in the kitchen if you can't take the heat, eh?). It could have been. I could have annoyed the hell out of people. I could have isolated myself (which I think I did for a few days). I could have burned bridges and fought and kicked and screamed and clawed for something...

Now, I'm letting go, and I'm moving on. When things screw up, somehow, you got to see a better, bigger picture to keep you going on, to get you fighting - silently, but still fighting.

For now, I only want one thing...another day loving and living, feeling and understanding...