A miracle is slowly and smoothly happening as this summer season is passing by. I’ve been really focused on studying and school works. I’ve been occupied by my duty schedules in the laboratory. Basically, I’m spending summer like I’ve never did before and I like it.
Although, time did not allow me to have late night walks/hang outs or to go to the beach or somewhere where one should spend summer, I am making most of this summer. I’m avoiding the disease of laziness. I don’t want to just lay around everyday, do nothing or else sleep. I aim to make each day a productive day.
From Monday to Saturday, my head is on the game. My brain and heart is striving really hard to cope with the needs of time. And I am thankful that I am spending my week that way, because it makes me appreciate the little times when I get the chance to stop and breathe for awhile. And it makes me happy. It makes me like more appreciative of the different things around me.
However, there are times when I really wanted to go home. I just want to see the family. It is really different not going home for summer.
Anyway, whatever happens I’ll make most of everything. There’s so many things yet to do. So many places to go.
I will not stop progressing. I’ll keep striving- not surviving. I’m pretty sure there will be a time when all my plans will just fall in to place.
I’m actually out of something to write. Or so I think. I’m trying to compose a post about our visit to Simala but I just can’t figure out why it is so hard to attach the pictures. /sigh/
Anyway, I’ve been visiting my old blogs. Re-reading past writings that I hope I could have done better. I felt insecure, happy, bitter, amazing, shocked, sad, and all mix-up of emotions. I one could read that I guess he/she would have figured me out. But that wouldn’t be a reliable source. I guess I’ve changed enough to say that that part of me right here has now evolved into something else. Maybe for the better or maybe for the worse.
It was particularly amazing that I was able to write those stuff. Even though some of it was for killing the time, I am really happy that I’ve tried writing. I have experienced enough rejection and depression to write something everyday. But I want to change that. I want to write because I am happy; because someone made me happy or something made me happy. Whatever. I don’t want to be depressed anymore. I don’t want to go back to the old self when I grieve and feel anxious even on the tiniest peck of problem.
I’ll keep on praying that I’ll learn from those experiences. It will not be easy but at least I’ll keep trying.