In The Flesh
The name's Janine.
Born on the 29th of May.
Middle School English teacher
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Monday, May 21, 2012
Untitled
Times like these, I feel the need to write. I guess it's the cold and wet weather that pushes me into solitude and makes me want to write. You know that moment when your head is full of words but you can't seem to form a comprehensive piece about what it is you're thinking about? Yeah, that's the one.
I came across an article earlier today that speaks of writers who lose their touch and inspiration because they don't believe they're good enough to write and be read. The author reminds his reader-writers that writing should be liberating, not constricting. Those who feel constricted by the thought of writing are those who write to be read and to please the audience. But that's where everything goes haywire. Once you start writing for the wrong reasons, eventually, you ARE going to lose your touch.
I guess this is one of those moments. *scratch*
I came across an article earlier today that speaks of writers who lose their touch and inspiration because they don't believe they're good enough to write and be read. The author reminds his reader-writers that writing should be liberating, not constricting. Those who feel constricted by the thought of writing are those who write to be read and to please the audience. But that's where everything goes haywire. Once you start writing for the wrong reasons, eventually, you ARE going to lose your touch.
Writers have their own little worlds where they get caught up in at the most random moments of the day. Everything needs to be written down - thoughts, memorable life events, rants, and all those shenanigans, which eventually become trickles of inspiration that lead to a narrative or exposition of some sort. It's an itch that can only be scratched by the tip of a pen on a clean (or sometimes dirty) sheet of paper/tissue/dried leaf or the clicking sound of keys on a keyboard."Write for yourself. The only person you need to worry about writing for is you." - Jeff Goins
I guess this is one of those moments. *scratch*
First Entry via Blogsy
I am in no way affiliated with Blogsy, but hell, this is one good blogging application. Thanks to hours of app searching and reviewing, I finally decided to download an application that could help me manage my blogs, ncluding my Tumblr account, from my iPad.
I wanted to maximize the use of my new toy, so I invested on applications that could help me with my job as a teacher (downloaded LOTS of presentation apps and the expensive iWork suite for the iPad) and other apps that could simply make my life, well, simpler.
With Blogsy, it's been good. No qualms yet. Haven't experienced any crashing. Although, typing is a bit of a task, given that I'm not at all used to touch-screen gadgets. Will get used to it eventually.
I wanted to maximize the use of my new toy, so I invested on applications that could help me with my job as a teacher (downloaded LOTS of presentation apps and the expensive iWork suite for the iPad) and other apps that could simply make my life, well, simpler.
With Blogsy, it's been good. No qualms yet. Haven't experienced any crashing. Although, typing is a bit of a task, given that I'm not at all used to touch-screen gadgets. Will get used to it eventually.
Saturday, April 14, 2012
A friend once asked me why I choose to write or blog if I don't have any readers. I answered him with an eyebrow raised. People write for different reasons (as a Communication Major, he should know that). Some choose to write blogs for affirmation a some simply choose to write for self-expression. I, for one, write for release. Nothing else. If you are one of those VERY FEW people who have been reading my blogs since 2004, you would notice that I usually post entries when I need to rant or when something eventful happens. So, there.
I guess I've had that need to write things down since forever. When I was a kid, I used to own journals. Anything and everything that happened to me back then is documented in those pages. I never held back. The thought of being able to write freely without people judging my thought made me feel at ease. So I wrote and wrote and wrote until I filled up five thick notebooks with rants and rambles of my day-to-day escapades.
But I guess writing privately had its cons too. I never had the guts to tell or show others how I really feel. Always hiding behind the pages of my journals, listening and observing during class debates when I had so much to say, even shutting up during class recitation sessions when I was too afraid to be judged by the world. I couldn't stand up to people. I had this feeling that my thoughts and ideas were invalid and simply unworthy of affirmation from the people around me.
Then one day, my mom found my journals. Read all my entries, from day one up to the present. All my secrets, fantasies (oh yes, there were a lot), rants, escapades, sins, etc. were exposed to one person. This made me feel so bare and violated. I stopped writing ever since.
Yet, here I am today, writing-typing-ranting away again. What made me write after all those years? I really don't know. Even after the self-psychoanalysis, I can't seem to figure out the trigger to me expressing myself again. I guess the need to write was just too strong and I couldn't hold back anymore. Or maybe I couldn't find any other outlet that could make me feel free.
Whatever it was, I'm glad it happened. The fear of judgment was overcome by the need to express. I can finally write again. After all those year...
I guess I've had that need to write things down since forever. When I was a kid, I used to own journals. Anything and everything that happened to me back then is documented in those pages. I never held back. The thought of being able to write freely without people judging my thought made me feel at ease. So I wrote and wrote and wrote until I filled up five thick notebooks with rants and rambles of my day-to-day escapades.
But I guess writing privately had its cons too. I never had the guts to tell or show others how I really feel. Always hiding behind the pages of my journals, listening and observing during class debates when I had so much to say, even shutting up during class recitation sessions when I was too afraid to be judged by the world. I couldn't stand up to people. I had this feeling that my thoughts and ideas were invalid and simply unworthy of affirmation from the people around me.
Then one day, my mom found my journals. Read all my entries, from day one up to the present. All my secrets, fantasies (oh yes, there were a lot), rants, escapades, sins, etc. were exposed to one person. This made me feel so bare and violated. I stopped writing ever since.
Yet, here I am today, writing-typing-ranting away again. What made me write after all those years? I really don't know. Even after the self-psychoanalysis, I can't seem to figure out the trigger to me expressing myself again. I guess the need to write was just too strong and I couldn't hold back anymore. Or maybe I couldn't find any other outlet that could make me feel free.
Whatever it was, I'm glad it happened. The fear of judgment was overcome by the need to express. I can finally write again. After all those year...
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Testing the Blogger App
Currently using the Blogger App on J's iTouch. He let me use his because he bought an iPhone. Jeez. Before, it was an iPad. Now this. The good side, I have a pretty gadget I can use. Harhar.
Just made a Lovers' Playlist. Sounds cheesy. It really is. I just need a random music boost right now. All my old playlists are, well, old. Old playlist, old boyfriend, old life. Time to get rid of everything old.
Just made a Lovers' Playlist. Sounds cheesy. It really is. I just need a random music boost right now. All my old playlists are, well, old. Old playlist, old boyfriend, old life. Time to get rid of everything old.
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
I just had this sudden realization... My current relationship with J isn't just going in circles; it's going downhill. I can see the same fucked up pattern that my relationships took in the past. With A, with J (the ex)... In the beginning, it was sooooo okay. Then it got stagnant. That was understandable. But at this same point, I get to see sides of the person I'm with and actually think if this is what I want to deal with for the rest of my life.
Had a chat with a good friend over the phone two nights ago. Told me I had this need to "fix" people. And that all the guys I end up with are either weird or undeniably damaged. I can't help it. I attract people who are "damaged" and I am, at the same time, attracted to them. I need to do a little research...
So... after doing a little research (Yes, a huge pause in the middle of the post. Tee-hee.), I came across a few blogs by women who claim to have this weird attraction to so-called "damaged goods". (See blog post here.) Interesting to know that other women actually fall for the same guys as I do.
Do I expect too much? Am I such a relationship drag that I always have this need to be put on their list of priorities? Don't get me wrong. J's a good man. A good boyfriend, in fact. But sometimes, I just have this craving for attention and I simply do not know how to ask for it. He has other priorities. I get it. He has his job (which takes up most of his time), his family (I can't argue with this one), his "me-time", etc. Oh, well.
Reading that blog of his ex, though, made me think. He was like that before. These were the same reasons why the girl left him in the first place. He promised her a future. A good life. The M word always came up. But no. Plans remained plans. No movement. Stagnant. When he talks, he rambled about anything and everything for a good thirty minutes, and he doesn't even notice that the people he talks to drift away from the conversation already. The ex calls him a "narcissistic immature ass". Ouch there.
Maybe. Maybe I'm too accepting when I'm in love. Maybe my tolerance for "damaged people" is high, given that I deal with kids and those with special needs all the time. Then again, who isn't damaged? Hmm...
Eveyone has issues. When two people are brought together by either fate or sheer coincidence, they are forced to deal with each other's issues and differences. And what makes successful relationships work isn't the lack of issues and arguments but the ability of both "damaged" people to sort and work things out the best way they can.
At this point, all I can do is write (rather, type) things down. It's therapeutic. Like I don't have to do anything, but it makes me feel okay.
P.S. I just realized how bipolar this post sounds. :))
Had a chat with a good friend over the phone two nights ago. Told me I had this need to "fix" people. And that all the guys I end up with are either weird or undeniably damaged. I can't help it. I attract people who are "damaged" and I am, at the same time, attracted to them. I need to do a little research...
So... after doing a little research (Yes, a huge pause in the middle of the post. Tee-hee.), I came across a few blogs by women who claim to have this weird attraction to so-called "damaged goods". (See blog post here.) Interesting to know that other women actually fall for the same guys as I do.
I tend to go for the "Spock" guys. I mean good men, smart men, who at first get off on how emotional and spontaneous and fun I am. They enjoy the chase and the game, but once they've got me hooked, they return to their previously scheduled life and expect that I'll be there, because I've professed and shown love for them. I mean, they really are good men, but maintaining a relationship always falls somewhere below work and self actualization, such as furthering their education, working on their spirituality etc. They tend toward perfectionism and always have a reasonable justification about why I fall low on their list of priorities. - Wolvenchick
Do I expect too much? Am I such a relationship drag that I always have this need to be put on their list of priorities? Don't get me wrong. J's a good man. A good boyfriend, in fact. But sometimes, I just have this craving for attention and I simply do not know how to ask for it. He has other priorities. I get it. He has his job (which takes up most of his time), his family (I can't argue with this one), his "me-time", etc. Oh, well.
Reading that blog of his ex, though, made me think. He was like that before. These were the same reasons why the girl left him in the first place. He promised her a future. A good life. The M word always came up. But no. Plans remained plans. No movement. Stagnant. When he talks, he rambled about anything and everything for a good thirty minutes, and he doesn't even notice that the people he talks to drift away from the conversation already. The ex calls him a "narcissistic immature ass". Ouch there.
"Maybe because you put up with things like that more than others would."
Maybe. Maybe I'm too accepting when I'm in love. Maybe my tolerance for "damaged people" is high, given that I deal with kids and those with special needs all the time. Then again, who isn't damaged? Hmm...
Eveyone has issues. When two people are brought together by either fate or sheer coincidence, they are forced to deal with each other's issues and differences. And what makes successful relationships work isn't the lack of issues and arguments but the ability of both "damaged" people to sort and work things out the best way they can.
At this point, all I can do is write (rather, type) things down. It's therapeutic. Like I don't have to do anything, but it makes me feel okay.
P.S. I just realized how bipolar this post sounds. :))