Past Life

[Some note: This blog post is totally unrelated to the photo, except that flying and crying are two things I don’t mind being caught dead doing. So yeah, the connection stops right here.]

Tonight, while cutting potatoes to cook for dinner (yes, I do cook my own dinner contrary to what most of you would think), I cut my left thumb with a kitchen knife. And it was an awfully deep cut because I happened to be cutting with force when the knife slid on my poor thumb.

Now I grew up to believe that the first thing to do when you get a cut is to make it bleed to get as much germs out. So I did, and for the first few seconds, I did it with such bravery I never thought I had. Soon enough, however, I succumbed to the sight of dripping blood and how the cut seemed to *not* stop bleeding.

And so I cried. I let out one nasty, hearty, hysterical cry. While my blood was dripping on my kitchen floor. With bloody tissue papers scattered everywhere from the kitchen floor to the bathroom sink.

If only my camera and tripod were set up, this would’ve been one helluva flickr-moment. And the title would be something that could pass up as suicidal.

But like I said over twitter and FB, while it hurt like crazy, and left me forever traumatized by the sight of potatoes and kitchen knives, I was kinda thankful to have an excuse to cry.

I honestly think I wasn’t just crying over my bloody finger. Now that I think about it, it somehow feels more like being able to find an excuse to release all these pent-up frustrations about life out of my chest. After all, I haven’t cried in a long while. (That is, not counting that night we stopped whatever it was we’re doing out of the blue, sat down, clasped our hands, and prayed.)

I feel awful blogging about this crazy encounter with a kitchen knife. Why does it feel so uncool to admit you’re a crybaby these days? (Isn’t it an accepted fact that crying is a sign of courage anymore?)

At the risk of being branded uncool, I just have to say.. it actually feels good to cry. Even if it costs some trauma, and a deep cut.

Hey, it’s okay to have some drama in your life, come on. You don’t have to pretend you’re tough (and happy, ugh) all the time.

* * *

Also, yes, I have this renewed habit of shifting from “I” to “we” in the middle of paragraphs, just because I think *we* is such a beautiful word.

I must be crazy, thinking I can do this when I couldn’t even keep with posting a photo once a week.

But blaah, Click Happy Friday was sooo 10-years-ago, and things are different now. So I committed myself to Project 365 in hopes that after 365 days, my love affair with photography would have brought me somewhere.

So yay, come fly by flickr, you know, if twitter and facebook ain’t enough for you to stalk me. (Haha an invitation to stalk me? I’m sooo funny.)

Hi. How’s your holy week? Mine involved a lot of sleeping and eating and taking photos and moving around the city and enjoying the empty roads (I’ve never seen a more spacious EDSA). It was a breeze travelling from Caloocan to Ortigas to Marikina to Manila and back, it probably took about 10 minutes from one destination to the next, when normally it would take more than an hour.

Where were you people last weekend? Thanks for fleeing the city and leaving us to enjoy it. Hee. :)

Anyway, I’m not going to rant today for a change, instead, I’m inviting you to go places with me, at least virtually. :)

Since we’re all back to our office cubicles now (or NOT, haha! I meant, YOU’re all back to your office cubicles, LOL), I’m inviting you to browse through your stock photos, find that one place you want to go back to this very minute, then put the words, “Let’s find some beautiful place to get lost” on it, then post it up.

As for me, my happy place is Wollongong, I’d give anything to be transported back to that place again RIGHT NOW, if only I could. How about you? Where’s your happy place? :)

BTW, those words are not mine, I’m not sure exactly who did it first, this is just me, responding to her invitation. :)

Tagging: Joni, Meemae, Aileen, Des, Liz, Ivy, and anyone who wants to do it. ♥

I love reading heartful blogs. Those that, not just give you updates and maybe sell you stuff, but cut deep into your heart and actually make you feel something.

Like Msbeng‘s thoughts-out-loud. I once admitted to her that I lurk in her blog to read her devotions everytime I fail to do mine. *ack*

And Aileen‘s travels, most specially her journals about New York — they make me feel like being transported back to that place, as if I’m experiencing her journey myself.

I think Meemae is a better version of Last Leaf — more spunk, more guts, more heart. And if only Kuya Aleks blogged more, I’d be one avid and happy lurker.

I don’t know about these people but I seem to be having a hard time writing from the heart these days, “from the heart” being the operative phrase. My drafts folder has become a daily dump of frustrations. It’s often easy to start something off, but difficult to finish it.

I still can’t believe sometimes that I’m the same person who would blog her heart out there, unabashed. And not just blog! I’d fight and love and wear my heart on my sleeve and express myself like crazy, and I didn’t mind if people watched me.

So maybe those emo-days are over, and maybe life is less of a melodrama, but the funny thing is, I’m actually missing that younger version of me. Will I ever be like her again?

* * *

On another note, you know how it’s like in the movies when one encounters a near-death experience and life suddenly flashes before his eyes? In real life, those are much likely to happen not in your dying moments, but in times when you feel most alive. Or when you’re going through something you don’t get to go through everyday. Or when you’re in transit.

I remember the few times it happened to me.

I was on my flight to Los Angeles from New York, ending my 6-day NYC adventure. There aboard the plane, belted to my seat looking out to the window, a montage of images — of Broadway, Central Park, the subway, Staten Island ferry, South Street Sea Port, Times Square, Serendipity Cafe, Brooklyn bridge, and other places in New York I was fortunate enough to experience — reeled in slow motion in my head. It was as if my mind’s way of relishing the events one last time, boxing them up to make room for new ones.

And then it happened on the trip back home from Sydney. (But I won’t bore you with the details now because it’s a longer list. Heh.)

So it happened to me again just recently, with flashbacks that included almost three years worth of corporate drama. Has it been a month already since? (And yes, there’s a longer blog post about this somewhere in my drafts, boo.)

I didn’t think I’d ever have the courage to leave behind a comfort zone in exchange for something new and unsure, but yay I actually did it. And now, the excitement (and uncertainty) is killing me.

But hey, it’s time to chase dreams. And this time, I’m gonna let my heart lead the way. ♥

*image from Michelle Bower