Focus on Living

Yesterday, as I was driving on the highway, a cat crossed the road insanely. My heart skipped a beat, and I don’t even like cats that much. Multiple cars almost hit it but it managed to escape and reach the other side safely. Crazy cat!
In my country, people are just as crazy. I don’t understand how one would willingly cross a highway. I don’t understand why anyone would try willingly to put him or herself in death’s path.

I’ve never seen death happen in front of me and yesterday’s encounter confirmed to me that I wouldn’t be able to handle it anyway.

I make myself believe that I have a special relationship with death, although I know it’s not the case. But I feel like it’s been my companion for as long as I can remember. Not a friend, not a foe, but something that is constantly around: sometimes to threaten you, sometimes to remind you that there is always a way out.

I always try to picture ahead of time how I would react to losing someone. I see myself at a complete loss, numb, empty.
I cannot stand formalities and I don’t even know how people do it. I see my father taking care of things, making sure everything is right for the funeral.
I think of doctors, how do they do it? Dealing with death on a possibly daily basis.
People at cemeteries. Do they just ignore it and consider it a regular job? Or is it the opposite? Is it hard for them to go to work every day and face these souls and their graves? Or is it some kind of mission, a way to make them a little bit less lonely?

My fear of death has always trapped and consumed me, from the first time I understood the concept of losing one’s life. And I don’t think I’m superstitious but on repeated occasions, when I see a hearse, something bad happens during my day.
Something deeply shakes me at the thought of people losing their lives. I start to imagine what they were doing before, did it hurt, were they lonely, were they aware, did they feel loved, especially at the end?

Five years ago, in October, I lost two people I respected and cared for very much. They died two days apart. It was one of the hardest periods I’ve ever been through, especially that one of these deaths came to me completely unexpectedly as she was my age, young and dynamic. One I admired for always being so full of life. Losing them made the world a much darker place and I thought life wouldn’t get any better.

It always makes me think how human get over someone. I mean I do it too, but it just feels weird to move one, to live, to carry on despite the loss.
It doesn’t take much too, you get used to it. One morning after the other, it gets better.
I hate this idea. I mean, it’s going to happen to you too. One day, you’re going to die and people will get used to your absence. It’s awful. It’s not their fault and it doesn’t matter how much they love you, they’ll move on and you’ll be added to the long list of people who are from the past.

I’m not saying I’m still hung up on the deaths in my life.
The first time I laughed after that October, it felt very weird and inappropriate. But then it happened again and I learned to accept that it’s okay. I even made jokes sometimes, went out and slowly left the grieving bubble but I was hoping they knew that they were both on my mind.

I want someone, just one, to remember me constantly when I’m gone.

“When I’m gone”. It’s never an “if” but always a “when”. I don’t know about you, but this keeps me up at night. How can we fall asleep so easily if there is always the possibility of never waking up?

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mean I want immortality. Not at all. This is not about living forever. This is more about having enough time. Enough time and the proper guidance to consistently remind me that I should try to forget death at least a little bit and focus on living instead.


I’m no longer twenty

I woke up today determined to seriously change the way my life is going, determined to find answers to all the questions that have been haunting me for the past twenty years or so. Because yes, I am at an age where I can say “twenty years ago”.

You see I’m no longer twenty. Well actually, that’s an understatement since I’m almost thirty. As I come closer to those scary double digits, a billion idea goes through my brain.

Do you feel sometimes that things are out of your control? That time is flying by and you’re there witnessing so much change that you cannot do anything about? Do you feel like yesterday you were barely graduating from school and here you are surrounded by friends getting engaged, married, having kids, succeeding in their careers, making money, being all responsible? On the other hand, you’re not ready for any of it yet. Things are moving on such a fast pace that you can’t keep up with them anymore.

Is it that bad that I just want to spend days not leaving the house playing video games for five hours straight, eating chips, drinking soda and not having to worry about a paycheck or about being a freelance and the risk of not having work tomorrow or next week. Sometimes I wonder if I’m even allowed to think that way at my age.

I may be turning thirty soon but I really don’t know how time passed. I don’t only feel much younger than that, I feel like my mental age is still cruising in its teenage years. Maybe this is some sort of a wake-up call because I always thought being twenty is going to last, which is totally naive. I guess I never really pictured myself growing up. But now, I’m left with no choice and I really really must grow up.

So on the eve of my twenty-sixth birthday, I decide to make the absolute best of these four years, to grow up on my own pace and to come of age at the right time

Songs I Wish I Wrote

So apparently lists are a big hit so here is one where I basically just wish out loud that I was brilliant enough to write the following songs. This will most probably turn out to be a never-ending list, so there might a part two or ten.
Keep in my mind that the songs on the list are in no particular order.

Songs I Wish I Wrote:

  • Common People by Pulp, released in 1995 on the album Different Class.
    I had to start it somewhere. So it started there.


  • The Answer by Blue October, released in 1998 on the album The Answers.
    To be honest, almost any song written by Justin Furstenfeld applies to this category. “I’m an automatic steeple for depressed and lonely people.


  • No Hope by The Vaccines, released in 2012 on the album Come of Age.
    I believe this is the song that represents me the most. Having to grow up and not being ready at all. Not knowing what your next step should be. Coming of age basically (more on that in an upcoming post, stay tuned).



  • C’est une belle journée by Mylène Farmer, released in 2002 on the album (Best of) Les Mots. (The link will take you to the live version).
    The song was originally conceived as “It’s a beautiful day, I’m going to kill myself” according to Farmer (“C’est une belle journée, je vais me tuer” instead of “je vais me coucher”). “Going to bed” became her euphemism for suicide.


  • You & Me by Penny and The Quarters. This song was featured on one of my favourite films Blue Valentine (a film that you must watch if you haven’t already).


  • Sleepwalker by The Wallflowers, released in 2000 on the album Breach.
    I’m in your movie and everyone looks sad.


  • O Children by Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds, released in 2004 on the album Abattoir Blues/The Lyre of Orpheus.
    Confession time: I was introduced to the song while watching Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows Part I during the infamous (and underrated in my opinion) Hermione/Harry dance scene. I was completely drawn to it and it became one of my favourites.


  • Name in Stone by Dead Man’s Bones, released in 2009.In case you haven’t heard of Dead Man’s Bones, I recommend you read this and I’ll let you discover them.


  • Asleep by The Smith, released in 1987 on the album The World Won’t Listen, aka the song that in my opinion should have been the song that makes you feel infinite.


I think I’ll limit myself to these ten for tonight but I’ll definitely keep this list going so make sure to check it.

This post is a part of the Discover Challenge.

Random Second Thoughts

  1. I have second thoughts about everything – including this post.

  2. I always wonder how many calories does Nathan Drake burn while climbing every time I play Uncharted.

  3. I hate the littles voices in my head – and they are many.

  4. I think second opinions make things even more confusing.

  5. I have an unlimited number of phobias including fear of heights, snakes and rats.

  6. I love to quote other people.

  7. “Writing is rewriting” – my screenwriting teachers (every one of them).

  8. I had a happy childhood and I don’t have a sob story.

  9. Death scares the shit out of me.

  10. I don’t have anything interesting to say today.

Second Thoughts

I’m No Longer Overweight 

I hate to break it to you but this is not an inspirational post. This is not about how I overcame my weight issues and became fit.

On the contrary, this is the very first time I admit that I’m not just slightly overweight, but I am an obese person.

And as trivial as this confession seems to be, it’s been hard for me to admit to myself first and foremost but also to my family and friends – since whenever I’m asked if I’m gaining weight, my answer always is: “no, same old same old”.

Well, that’s obviously a lie because I’m at my highest weight at the moment and lowest levels of energy. I would like to think that this is not entirely my fault because I have been trying my best to exercise regularly, eat in a healthy manner for quite some time now (at least for the past ten years).

My mother would say that a big part of it is due to my lack of determination, in addition to some minor health issues. Yes, maybe she’s right, maybe it is the case. But what I believe is that I ran out patience and lost all hope.

I know that this is not the biggest of issues, there more important things than looks and appearances but that’s not just it.

A lot of people laugh when I tell them that, but in my head, my self-image is thin and fit.

To be honest, I don’t give my weight much thought until I leave the house. And despite how many times I tell myself that I shouldn’t care what other people think, it’s just not possible to ignore people’s comments or stares. Even when the discussion is not about me, whenever the “weight” subject is mentioned, I cannot help but feel judged.

I think my least favorite moment is running into people I haven’t seen in a while because it’s usually the first thing they notice or mention:

“Oh, you’ve gained weight!” Yes, thank you, Mr. Obvious! Now that you have mentioned it and expressed yourself, I became well aware of my state.

Anyway, I’m not here to preach about people or rant or even complain really. This is just a reminder that I cannot lie to myself anymore.

I cannot pretend that I’m not bothered by my situation because as soon as this text is published, I will have to face the actual truth.

So this will count as the day I finally admitted that I am in fact fat.

I am fat and I don’t want to wake up one day, stand on the scale, weight 200 Kg and realize that it’s too late.

Space of Endless Inspiration

Your manuscript is both good and original; but the part that is good is not original, and the part that is original is not good. – Dr. Samuel Johnson, to an aspiring writer

Hello again.
After thinking and writing about why I write (and if you haven’t read that yet, you should do that right now, right here), it was time to write about the space I write in. Keep in mind that I’m still following WordPress’ plan for a successful and engaging blog.
This suggestion seemed interesting enough, so why not?

First, I must admit that at the moment I don’t have a full-time job, I do go to work but only two or three times a week. But before you feel sorry for me, just so you know, a part of me really needed this break.
Now why am I stating this? Well, because that would explain why I’m always in bed when I’m writing on this blog (including this post).
I am under my warm sheets, my laptop on the breakfast-in-bed tray. I use an optical mouse because my mac’s trackpad is literally dying. My mouse pad is the cutest: a drawing of a cat with Sheldon Cooper’s favorite cat song. The TV is turned on – a local political talk show, to be precise. I’m not really listening to it, but somehow it makes me focus.

A couple of years back, I was studying in the US and I had to present a new writing assignment every week. For a reason I can’t explain, I was only able to write in a loud Chinese laundromat. I tried to write at home, at a café, in the subway but in vain. It didn’t work for me – not in the States at least.
Obviously it all started by accident: I was really late on my deadline and I was running out of clean clothes. So I went there, started the washing machine, sat in a quite corner, took my notebook and it was just like magic. I remember how easy it was, words and ideas were just flowing effortlessly.

Unfortunately, today, I’m 5,600 miles away from that laundromat. And until I find my next space of endless inspiration, I have to stick to my bed. But I’m sure going to a trendy coffee shop every now and then won’t hurt.

PS: We want to hear more from you and we really want to know what you want us to write (we need your ideas for an upcoming blog post). So please head to our contact page or tweet us with your suggestions.

Why Do I Write

Never, ever use repetitive redundancies. Don’t use no double negatives. Proofread carefully to see if you any words out. – William Safire

Hello. I’ve had this blog for a week now and I could definitely get used to this. Through my discovery of WordPress during this past week, I came across different articles on how to progress through the blog and set goals. I signed-up to a couple of newsletters, more like quick online courses, including one about how to find inspiration everyday (Thank you WordPress Daily). Well anyway in one of the emails, we were asked to think and write about why we write.

And as it was requested, I set my timer for fifteen minutes, put some music on and “free-wrote”.

Why do I write?

Surprisingly enough, I don’t find it that hard to answer this question because writing has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember.
When I was younger, back in school, I was scared of starting conversations, I didn’t know how to approach people, I could barely answer the phone. I even remember a time where I would skip lunch or dinner because I just couldn’t call the restaurant and order food. I would be alone for most times because I just didn’t know how to socialize. And that’s how it started.

I had a lot of things to say but not a lot of people to talk to. So I began to write and I felt that I was actually good at it. That doesn’t mean that my sixteen-year-old-self’s writing is still any good. In fact, I try my best not to delete them despite how tempting it is. But I keep them well hidden because I occasionally like to read them again and remember that person, the thoughts. It feels like a different life.

“Every secret of a writer’s soul, every experience of his life, every quality of his mind is written large in his works” – Virginia Woolf

I got a lot better since, I’m not as socially awkward but I still have my “moments” and fortunately my writing – dare I assume – got better as well. The passion is still there and the need for it as well. I’m happy to say that it’s a part of my daily life (Twitter, short stories, screenplays and now this blog) and hopefully, one day, it will even become my only day job.

I can definitely see how hard and long it will take to get more readers, because obviously so far my best friend and my mom are my only two fans (I did get some good feedback earlier today but still, thank you dear tweep). But as I previously mentioned, this is a part of a much-needed therapy and it is a lot cheaper than seeing a shrink.

PS: We want to hear more from you and we really want to know what you want us to write (we need your ideas for an upcoming blog post). So please head to our contact page or tweet us with your suggestions.