the part about 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 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.

I’m so restless these days.

The first time I jumped, 5 years ago, I didn’t have much of a choice.

What a marvellous adventure it’s been though!

This time around, I know I have to. The thought of being at the same place for the rest of my life scares me shitless. We’re talking waking up at 4 am and going to the fridge to calm the nerves and still nothing to reassure oneself (could be that the fridge needs stocking up too). Lately I have been feeling completely unmotivated by everything. I need change to give me a jolt. Is that bad that I never know what I want and this being open-mindedness also means I’m always adapting but never settling for something? Someone with a fixed set of knowledge and rules and goals at least knows what they want out of life. And me… What do I know?

I just know how to jump. Jumping from everything. To everything else…Career. People. Life.

Which makes my life a freaking colourful circus.

Until one day I have no energy and start questioning everything.

Rinse, wash, repeat.

One day, before I jump, I would like to find what I’m looking for. Even for a little while.

I wonder what that’s like.. to have finally found it.

Maybe I’ll take a deep breath afterwards. And bask in it for a bit. Maybe explore it. Maybe settle into a routine. Maybe ask other people’s opinions of it. Maybe build stories around it.

So many maybe’s.

Maybe none of that will happen.

Maybe this is just who I am… Once a jumper, always a jumper.

(The non-English sweater kind though).

Except… unlike the guy from A Most Violent Year, I’ll be the type of jumper who’ll end up staying in the same place my whole life - the place that keeps you up at 4 am, wet pillows and all.

Parts of definite maybe’s

I look at some of the enormous contributions people like Brandon Stanton, Prince, Paul Walker, actor Imran Khan has done for society. They don’t go for the glory, they don’t scream it from the rooftops. They have used their skills and talent and contributed their time and effort for the betterment of society, and they have done it with quiet dignity. One doesn’t have to be social media whores to make changes, to do what they believe in. Some people just do it because it’s really simple… They just believe in their moral values. I’ve been so selfish for the past 5 years. Maybe I wasn’t meant to find happiness for myself. Maybe I was simply meant to provide it for others. Maybe that’s why it’s been so hard. Maybe this has been my goal all along. And I had simply detoured for a bit. Maybe it’s finally time.

parts of 4 am musings that keep you up but doesn’t destroy you… yet

what if you’ve already met your soulmate, but you were too busy looking at your phone/taking a selfie/swiped him or her right/scrolling your fb feed…. when you could’ve been looking at his/her eyes right now and having a moment together. Right place, wrong time.

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 life, and i am going to own it.

++parts of the thin line between apologies and gratitude++

i have been having a terrible sharp searing pain in my head for the last 2 days. i just had a conversation with the Big Guy, and then i had a thought following that. i hope whoever cares for me, as a person/human being/friend and reading this….. i hope you are doing ok.

i hope you’re not suffering alone. i hope you’re not hiding everyday worries and sorrows behind thinly-veiled masks. but if you are, i hope you have someone who allows you to take it off sometimes, so you can rest your weary head on their shoulders.

i hope you remember that i’m the most flawed when I’m… alive (ie all the time), that maybe i have forgotten something that you have told me, but that does not mean that i will not be there for you again, if you need me.

i hope my gratitude for life with you in it is not mistaken for arrogance. i do believe i am blessed with a beautiful life, but that is because that is how i choose to view my life, and not because of what i actually have. i have you in my life, maybe not in the way society deems it acceptable to be a valid kind of love, but sometimes all you need is a presence, be it present/past to have had a memorable impact… and sometimes that is enough.

i guess what i’m trying to say is, in one way or another… you’re in my life. and our paths must’ve crossed. and it may have had a domino effect or played a part in our life experiences. and isn’t that a fabulous thing? that makes me feel grateful for you because it’s part of the territory when you’re grateful for life.

so i’ll say it again. i hope, whoever you are and wherever you are, i hope you have a beautiful life…. and i hope, you are doing ok.

parts where pieces of you should reunite with all of you… again

++all hands on deck++
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“If you are not the hero of your own story, then you are missing the whole point of your humanity.” - Steve Maraboli
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It’s a short, beautiful life. Sometimes stormy, sometimes serene. Sometimes waves crashing, breaking you down, making you abandon your post. I hope you don’t leave. I hope you sit tight. I hope you believe in your own absolutes, your infinites, your fighting spirit and your war dance. I hope you participate in it. I hope you own it. I hope you make your life, yours, and you, your own hero.

parts where your yesterdays couldn’t touch my todays anymore

he wasn’t even a good kisser.

i should’ve known. i mean, shouldn’t that alone be like a deal-breaker? a sign? an omen?! 

in fact, he wasn’t even my type, to be honest. there were so many red flags. so why was i bawling my eyes out in my pillow again, at many 3 ams? if he wasn’t even what i had expected, it should have been easier to let go. but i’m an idiot. because i’m always trying. and also, my thirst for being… adventurous, experimental, non-stereotypical, bold, living dangerously took over.. hahaha! i can look back at this now, and laugh, of course. it cracks me up a little now. but hey, hindsight is 20/20. but then again, in my defense, what the hell do i know about what is even my type?! i thought i knew my type. until a month or so ago, i wondered…. do i even know my type? and does it matter, at all??

because the fact of the matter is, i don’t have a type! i’ve been in and out of infatuations and crushes long enough to know that i am an eternal optimist. or a softie. or i forget too easily. too soon. i don’t want to be angry. i can be hurt, like everyone else. but anger… after a while, it always comes back to this holy grail/mantra: in a year’s time, it won’t even matter. in a year’s time, nothing you said, or did, will matter. for a spontaneous person like myself, time is eternally a blessing and a curse in every aspect. so really, why bother? why hold on to the obvious melancholy/drama/sleepless nights that will ensue, if it doesn’t matter and if it won’t matter? it gets easier over time, they say, and they’re right. 

so one day,  i woke up, and realized, if it really doesn’t matter… then yesterday couldn’t touch me anymore… so why the hell was i touching it?

life *REALLY* got better after that. i started smelling the roses.. petunias… orchids… the damn forest… even the grass! everything just smelled, looked, tasted… FELT better.

i also woke up and realized that rather than treating people the way they want to be treated, i should’ve been treating people they *deserved* to be treated… which is not in the way of a man-hating bitter stereotypical lesbian, but in a way that is professional and on-point and still deserving: firm and polite and still without letting go of my obvious integrity…. but still screw the everyone else policy. being selfish is ok! if you want to be bold, experimental, adventurous, why not try it in a way that benefits YOU?! enough with the smoke and mirrors. i had to let it go.

except it had been a while, and i had forgotten all about how to go about doing that.

so i started all over again…. the falling-in-love process.

it was a bit like the blind leading the blind, at first. it was dark. i couldn’t see. but then i poked some holes, and decided that maybe i should let some light in. so i got some help. it was less awkward after that. the light was beautiful. well lit. there was still some darkness. but the light helped illuminate the important bits that needed to be seen. and it was time. i had to do this. i had to start falling in love again, but this time with someone who really deserved it.

i had a good long look in the mirror, and the good thing about mirrors is that unlike anything else, they don’t lie. and whoever is staring back at you is MUCH easier to love. 

you don’t have to stop falling in love. maybe just focus it on the right person who’s a lot more deserving, preferably someone who is a better kisser. :)

“Perhaps, the problem is not the intensity of your love, but the quality of the people you are loving.” - Warsan Shire.

parts of reasonable digressions

you had your reasons to pretend that i didn’t exist.

i had my reasons to long for your company.

i suppose in some ways, this makes us both unreasonable creatures seeking a sort of intersection comprised of disagreements, within a Venn diagram that was masked as a square.

parts of sense and sensibilities

somedays you have hope and believe in the impossible.

and someday, one day, finally, you wake up and you realize, he’s not the one making the moves, you are.

that’s the day when you really start to believe in the possibilities out there for you, and not in the impossible ones.

parts where i mean nothing to you

i am not your friend.

i’m just some girl you met at a party the week before who you found somewhat interesting then but not anymore, so you didn’t bother keeping in touch with her, until you found yourself bored at the airport with no wifi while waiting for your flight, so then you decided to send a random text message to her just to kill time because that is what you do when you’re single and at an airport waiting to board your flight - you scroll down your contacts list, and you try to catch up with all the people who you don’t usually talk to because that is how you feel at the airport when you’re waiting to board your flight home - you feel invincible with lust and happiness.

i wish you were someone I found boring.

then i wouldn’t have taken the time to reply to your message, and then i wouldn’t have surprised you with my response, then you wouldn’t have been looking forward to seeing me when you were back, then you wouldn’t have made plans with me after you’re back, then you wouldn’t have pretended like i don’t exist anymore after our night together under the sheets.

then we would’ve been strangers, not friends.

i am not your friend.

parts of revelations after the obliteration of illusions of grandeur

sometimes one of the best closures is knowing that he never loved you anyway.

a reason to love forgotten struggles

parts of drivel laced with part home-truths

you can’t just start ignoring people after you’ve slept with them.

if you want to ignore people, you should be ignoring them before you sleep with them.