The stars can only be seen at night.

And indeed the stars can only be seen at night. 

I often wonder, when will I ever be free of this treacherous darkness? It's beyond bewilderment to find myself smiling, a genuine kind of smile, and yet my soul is falling deep into the cold belly of nothing-ness. I feel happy but at the same time a piercing emptiness is at the core of me, and it often leaves me wondering in a confusing sadness. Questions like why, how, when, what and even who stick around me so much and, sometimes, even disgracing me by surprise. 

What am I if I cannot write any longer? Who am I if I cannot find the perfect words to create life on a piece of paper? My life is build because I am a story-teller. I have come into existence because I am a Catholic who tells stories of hope, love and faith. But what will happen to me if I cease telling these stories? What will happen to the lives that is waiting to hear and be strengthened by my stories?

Courage. That is what every story-teller should have in their blood. At least that is what I have learned from my own life. Courage to tell the truth when the world needs to hear it; Lies, to catch betrayers in their own game of conceit; Courage to hold the truth in the face of persecution and shame; and even courage to let go of love and see how God moulds it into his own vessel of hope. Yet, am I such a person? Am I courageous? 

The darkest of night has set on me again, tonight. May I find the courage to look up and search for the stars, even when the dark clouds of rain have blanketed the whole sky. 

My Lord and my God. Be with me tonight. 

We always have choices: to do or not to do.

Today may seem to start off quite slow, but I’m not giving in to futility just yet. I still have a total of 14-16 hours of harnessing my creativity and come up with something spectacular. It’s all about choices, I guess. We can always decide to turn a day of dreariness into a day full of excitement and rewards. All of us have the power to do so. It is within our means.

So, let’s all put on our thinking cap. Or on second thought, don’t put on the thinking cap but, let’s all go out and have some fun with a little bit of imagination.

Today, I feel like I want to be Peter Pan and, I guess, I will.

Image from Google

Dessert: Must read. Must know. This is the GPS of a true friendship.

The old man said: To cross the desert, you have to face your fears before they face you. In order to overcome your fears, you need a friend who cares about you more than you care about yourself. When fear is shared by two, it becomes less frightening. My congratulations to both of you! You have crossed the desert.”

This is a must read. For everyone who needs guidance on knowing who are your real friends. They're not there only to give you support when your face is crushed on the ground. They would also be there, to meet you, when you descend from the stairs of success, hugging you and standing proud of you and your accomplishments. Go to the link http://yhareb.com/en/?p=163 and read the rest of it. An article by Yasser Hareb written with Paulo Coelho. Be blessed.

I'm cosidering Twitter.

Do I take myself seriously as a writer first? 

Or do I let others to pass that judgment on me?

If I am who I say I am and really believe what I say I am 

then I should get the word out there. 

I should start tweeting about it. And just let the music flow.

What makes a writer a writer?

I googled the above question and found myself with a gazillion answers. Some are poetic while others are plain structured. Some say they like being a little crazy while others go for colleges and courses to get that piece of paper that says you're a-professional-writer-now-and-no-one-can-dispute-that. :)

So what makes me a writer or even different from others who don't display their soul on a piece of paper? Do I have some kind of extraordinary ability that allows me to feel what others are going through? Was I born on a special day of writers? Or am I just plain mad when compared to others?

I guess I am who I am because of all the above and more. I love being judged and I hate being judged but I can't help myself if I stop writing. My life is more than just an open book. I am also a canvas, sometimes with beautiful stains and sometimes plain white blank. I don't really care of being judged or misinterpreted but I can't help myself from being obsess with what others think of me and of my works. Do they like my story? Can they relate to what I'm telling them? Can they see themselves or me in my writings? Can they grasp the message which I'm trying to tell them in my works, of us not being too different from each other?

I am a writer and a crazy fool. My brains and my heart are so intertwined with each other; that’s why I'm irrationally encrusted with being super-complicated. It is all simply and because I am a writer and a buffoon! I lived hard and I cried harder. I loved hard and I get hurt harder still. And that's because I am who I am; a foolish writer who feels with her whole being.

So, from my standpoint a writer is writer when she is herself, who lives her pain slightly dramatic than an average human being, who also lives her life somewhere between a full-bloom melancholy and dangerously intoxicated while still have the capacity to look at God straight in the eye and be thankful for all the wondrous blessings she has got so far.