But the other day it had told me to “Take a leap before looking”, and I laughed at it, because that was exactly what I was doing. I’m sat at the balcony of my room at the Constance Ephelia, in … SEYCHELLES. Taking my first ever solo trip to quiet my mind. Well that’s a phrase I didn’t think I’d ever say, but here we are. Deep breaths. Deep breaths, Abbie. I’m not just turning
Heads up : This entry is all over the place! Bear with me. It was years ago when someone left a comment on my Tumblr asking, “Why do you always like to announce that you liked something ahead of everyone?”. I always thought it was because I wanted to prove to people (mostly to myself) that I wasn’t hopping on the hype train. In my thirties, it dawned on me that it was because I
I was asked by a friend sometime at the end of last year, during a very quick, but in-depth conversation regarding our lives : “Is this it for you? Wala ka nang goals?”, I kind of wondered what it meant exactly, it wasn’t demeaning (her tone definitely wasn’t), and it took me awhile to actually figure out the answer. We’re raised in a society where you’re expected to get your shit together after high school.
I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing, I don’t know if I’m saying the right things either. But I’m going to say them anyway, because I’ve kept these to myself (and a few close friends) for awhile now. I know I’m probably missing the point by saying these out loud, and in this manner (especially the first), but writing AND publishing this helps me be more honest with myself. I don’t see anything wrong with being open to things you are still discovering (self-awareness is everything!).
Suicide is such a “tricky” thing. I should know. We did not choose to be born, life doesn’t come with a manual, and it is so hard, in general — to simply live. Getting out of it should be a choice. It should be. It’s not fair to impose living to someone who simply does not want to just be this … anymore. The thing is … Well …
She was in a pretty floral dress, fro in a high bun, headsets in both ears. We were in a lift – me, her, and a man. Out of nowhere she sings in chorus with the song blasting through her headphones, like she was the only person there. None of us budged.
There was not a care in her voice and I admired her for it.
I did not even think of that day much until some time last week, when I found myself singing out loud in public, at the metro link, on my way home.
Dubai does that to you.
I go through photos of you sitting on a booth of a restaurant we had dinner at — once, many years ago. My eyes peer back and forth to the ones of you taken today, and the one of us stuck on my bedroom mirror. Just one photo of us, with me grinning from ear to ear, and you, wearing your signature coy smile.