[Untitled]

Lately, there's this feeling of anxiety. There's constant butterflies in my stomach, those nervous and anxious ones are coming around; more and more. I'm constantly alert as to what may come at me. As much as I would like to say that I'm so very ready for anything that may come at me, I am not. Slowly, I'm becoming gloomy and worried. 

There's this little anger emerging, a hidden one where no one can see it. And hopefully, no one ever has to see it. Ultimately, I'm asking for too much; I'm asking for that anxiety to go away or more like to never come; yet, this anxiety isn't within my control, not even a single bit. And when I think of those little things that are bothering me, I realize sometimes, even God might not be able to assist; all because it is self-created and self-imposed by individuals. I'm so disturbed to write this blog; all because I made a mini promise to myself to constantly be positive and only write the good. So maybe I would try to shift my thoughts to something more positive; and try to forget about that anxiety that is trying to find room within me. 

Today, I spent time at a french home; along with some of my other french-speaking friends. The entire house was vibrant, bright and chic yet there was that tinge of simplicity within, giving that homey feeling to it. And no, we didn't have small talk; but rather, we shared stories of our ancestry, the stories that are beyond any of our imagination, the stories that have made us 'us'. And many of these stories traced far back, far enough to give that excitement, joy and disbelief all at once. Being able to hear each one of our stories made me smile and wonder in awe of how beautiful each picture of our lives has been painted. It's just amazingly amazing. It goes back to my previous post. Imagine these stories never got retold to another, how dull the picture of our lives would have been. It would just have been centered on us individuals, unable to trace to a single thing phenomenal...   

Nope, this picture is nothing near the french home I was referring to, but it is now my new favorite place where I go to when I need to forget the world.

Your Stories Equal My Stories

There was a tinge of boredome encompassing me. Not just today, but also the past few days. And it's not like I don't have anything to do, I've got so much to do yet my brain tells me, Oh just chill. So, I thought I should make use of my time and do something I love doing so maybe in this process, I can remove some guilt of not doing anything productive. 

So yes, I saw a quote/statement this morning that got my brain thinking AGAIN! Brain Oh Brain, why do you love to think so much? Anyway, the quote got me realizing that each of us have so many stories to tell; or at least, so many stories within us whether we choose to share or not. It's amazing when we come to think of how much life has given to us - the different experiences that we have collected and kept them somewhere in us - some say it's within the brain, others say within the heart. I wouldn't know. But what I do know is, that all these experiences or technically, the memory of all these experiences are kept, but only a fader, dimmer and duller expression of them all. Because no matter how hard we try to treasure that very moment of feelings, no one can do it - it is just how it is. It's impossible. That original feeling at the time it happened would not be felt with that same intensity. So maybe, the brain isn't that powerful afterall.

So if that is the case, how do we try to keep and treasure that very feeling within us? Especially those positive feelings that come to us and we're all like, Stop the time! I want this happiness forever! It's such a funny world. But that is the thing, how do we treasure? I just think maybe we've got to tell them to somebody, share it! Because through sharing, one would spread the joy and it's like a virus! And so, maybe when we come back recalling that memory, someone else may be able to help us put the pieces together, put colors onto it and make it appear as near-colorful as the original as possible. So really, the stories (experiences) don't mean anything when you have got no one to tell them to.