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.

Ink on Paper Planes

I thought long and hard before starting this. It’s been recurring for a while now but I always manage to get the idea out of my head quite quickly.
Maybe out of insecurity. Maybe out of laziness. Maybe out of the fear of a commitment. But lately I started obsessing about it a little bit that it (and I) became annoying.

So anyway, I did it. I pressed on that publish button late on a Wednesday night, in early November. And here I was: left with a blank screen, a suffering laptop – who took ages to type this text – and a mind going insane.

I hope I don’t scare you away. I hope you’ll give me and my writing a chance. I hope you’ll stick around to witness the rise of the next big thing – aka yours truly. Or just watch me fail and laugh a little, which is also a possibility.

In any case, welcome aboard the Paper Planes and thank you for flying with us.

T.O.P.P.