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Lacking Vision

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  Lacking Vision There are two types of people lacking vision: the first is people who have literal blurry vision , which makes it difficult to see things clearly with their eyes. The other is more troubling: a lack of vision , the kind that keeps people from seeing beyond the present moment, beyond themselves, beyond what could be. They struggle to envision what the future could hold for themselves or even for their country. For the first time ever, I am glad that my only issue is blurry eyesight, rather than a lack of vision for the bigger picture. Because lacking a vision for the bigger picture? That feels like a far heavier burden. It's just I feel envious and hateful of people who are just wandering through existence, unaware of their missteps. Blindly following people in authority with questionable histories—those who are devious, self-serving, or entrenched in dynasties—not out of ill intent, but merely because the deeper implications never crossed your mind . Merely floatin...
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Lighthouse

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Lighthouse   I always look for light whenever I’m in my deepest sea because it always finds me. She will always wait for me on the shore — patient, unwavering, like the tide that never fails to return. When the storm came and my father took his step outside, she stepped forward without hesitation. No fear in her heart, no trembling in her hands — only the quiet strength of a woman who knows that love means standing tall even when the wind howls against you. She took the wheel he left behind and steered us through nights darker than I ever imagined. She became the anchor when the waves tried to tear us apart, holding the pieces of our little ship with her calloused hands and endless prayers. When everything went wrong, she had this quiet magic of making it feel right — like patching up broken sails with threads no one else could see, mending cracks in our hearts with her voice that soothed like a soft hymn at midnight. She never asked to be the lighthouse. She never dreamed of stand...
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Oddity

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  Oddity Sometimes I wonder if there is something genuinely wrong with me. See, I don’t exactly consider myself all that ‘normal’. And no, that is not a good thing. I’m not sure how well I can describe it, but I’ll try to anyway. Lately I’ve been having moments in which I struggle with all sorts of things– things that would even be as easy as breathing. For instance, I can be rather distractible . Studying in an area where it’s loud, you can’t even hear your own thoughts? An absolute nightmare. Even more so when the music I purposely blast into my ears to retain my train of thought is overpowered by the surrounding noise. But I can’t make the music too catchy; because otherwise, I’d end up being inspired to do something completely unrelated to what I’m supposed to be doing, forgetting my initial task entirely. It’s no wonder it takes me forever to finish anything. And another thing: my brain will refuse to focus on anything that isn’t particularly ‘interesting’ to me. Socializing i...
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I'm Not Sure

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  I'm Not Sure I was in 7th grade when I learned about the theory that we humans, originated from particular mammals. My mind took that uncertain but possible information seriously, beginning to doubt what my prior faith taught me to believe. After a long time, I eventually came to a conclusion; omniscient beings are not real. I don't believe in supernatural beings. I don't consider the religion that my parents made me accept when I was a child. Without visible proof, I cannot wholly believe in Gods. How can I? Who would even believe in something they cannot see?  Yes, what I think is possibly the source of our origin, and even the start of everything are unproved concepts of the real beginning. But isn't the origin of beliefs for a deity is also a theory? Scientific theories have questions that still have no answer to, and neither does religion. And ever since I encountered that realization, I felt confused. Change my mind, please. I don't even know what to believe...
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My Favorite Mistake

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  My Favorite Mistake As I grew older, I started to notice that I have a bit of a sloth-like functionality about me. I move slowly, I barely do anything productive, and I genuinely enjoy just sitting or lying around without doing much of anything. But don't take me out of context; I still do my responsibilities, tasks, and house chores. When there are some things that I have to do and should do, I'll often say, "I'll do it tomorrow." I don't think there's something wrong here if you have good excuses and you'll actually do it tomorrow. But for me, it's not the case. I have many inexcusable excuses, and I genuinely won't do it tomorrow. Instead, I'll say "I'll do it tomorrow" again.  I find it physically and mentally impossible to complete a task today if I can do it tomorrow. So when I get a task on a Monday that's due by Friday, I tend to do it on the day I can't push it off any longer with an "I'll do it tom...
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Hunted

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  Hunted   Lately, I feel like I am being hunted— not by monsters , but by the very dreams and plans I once thought would save me. They don’t feel like hopes anymore; they feel like ghosts chasing me at every turn. My passion, my dream job, the life I carefully pictured in my mind—they all used to give me strength. Now, they sit heavy on my chest every night, reminding me of everything I’m not and everything I failed to become. I used to believe that if I planned hard enough, if I dreamed big enough, I would get there. But reality has this cruel way of twisting things, turning dreams into burdens and plans into chains . It hurts to admit, but I no longer look at my dreams with excitement—I look at them with fear. Fear that I will never reach them. Fear that I will always fall short. Every night, these thoughts visit me. They whisper all the things I avoid during the day: “You’re running out of time. You’re not enough. Look at how far you still are.” And no matter how many time...
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Rambles of a Romantic

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  Rambles of a Romantic For the longest time, I’ve been fascinated by the idea of love. To be able to care so deeply for someone so precious, so dear, thoughts of them invade your mind and surround it in a thick fog. But not like a suffocating pile of heavy smog, no– more like a fluffy cloud, making you feel all lightheaded, lifting your spirits until you’re soaring high in the air, floating from the sheer joy that comes from being lovestruck. Those heavy, longing stares, felt from across the room, winding its way through the crowd until it reaches your own, zipping past like a flying arrow. And once it strikes, thump! It’s met with a resounding jump of the heart, a shock that surges through your veins and makes itself known to the rest of your body. Almost like your heart’s sending a distress signal; systems failing from the piercing attack of a loving stare. I lie in bed often wondering just what it would be like to have someone beside me, a tangled mess of limbs and sheets, warm...
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