100 Happy Days

My Big Tummy *bow*
(Thought this pic fits the concept. Lol!)

I've been seeing #100happydays lately on instagram, facebook, and twitter. At first, I was a bit curious but was not interested enough, for me to ask Mr. Google.

I was making my green juice in the kitchen, thinking of my problems, and contemplating a solution a while ago. I have been feeling down of late, and I want to get rid of it. So, I was thinking of a therapy to conquer this and become happy. Suddenly, this trendy 100 Happy Days appeared in my thoughts. I googled it and read what's written on the site. It is pretty cool and thought-provoking. The sole thing to do is to post a picture of what gave a person happiness for hundred days in a row. It could be a thing, a person, an event, or anything that a camera can capture, as long as it brought happiness on the day. Moreover, its objective is promising. 

Here are the given reasons why one has to do it:

People successfully completing the challenge claimed to:

•  - Start noticing what makes them happy every day;
•  - Be in a better mood every day;
•  - Start receiving more compliments from other people;
•  - Realize how lucky they are to have the life they have;
•  - Become more optimistic;
•  - Fall in love during the challenge.

I will do it! Not because I want to be "in", but I think it would be a good therapy for me. And withal, there is nothing wrong and nothing to lose. Starting today, March 26, I will be uploading pictures with HASHTAG 100 DAYS written alongside, on my twitter >here<. I prefer this social site as I only have a few followers, thus, only few will be pestered by my pictures. Lol!

Try it yourself! Visit the site: >here<

Good luck!

Fairy tale - I would like to believe

I am Cinderella when I graciously do household chores. I suddenly become Ariel when water cascades on my skin. I turned into sleeping beauty, Aurora, every night as I bed down. Call me Snow White each time I frolic with my little sister and nephews. Once I sit in my little nook and start turning the pages of a book, I am Belle.

I grew up dreaming of being a princess and of having my own fairy tale. I am a hopeless romantic person, I guess? I wanted to see a knight in shining armor who could make other men seemed blurry beside him. I believed in prince charming whom I would paint the "happily ever after" with, right after we kiss in the midst of a butterfly swarm. I loved to stay beside a man who believes that we are soulmates even if the universe says otherwise.

I encountered a few moments where fairy tale town was so close to me - like 3 more steps and I would reach the castle. I met my prom king like Prince Hans of Frozen who cynically turned into evil in the end. And then there's a man who climbed my tangled hair all the way up to the tower to save me. How magical, right?

One day, things just collapsed. I don't know if I am just stupid, comparing my experience with Disney's legendary stories. Or it could be... fairy tale is possible in this world but I just ruined everything.

I wold like to believe that fairy tale is just a fabricated story found in a book made for children, so I need to wake up as I am already 22. I would like to believe that there are no princes and princesses because men and women tend to be heinous at some point in their lives. I would like to believe that there is no perfect love story as two people in it are full of flaws. I would like to believe that fairy tale is just a bull crap because people are humans who create mistakes and can never create such a perfect fairy-tail-ish record.

I would like to believe these things. I do not want to think that I had the chance to be like Cinderella or Snow White, but I just let the moment slip away for I chose to become a DIRTY wicked witch.

Regrets, go away, please.

Gone

A complainant of life, a heart breaker, and a procrastinator - I have been all of these lately.

This page has become my diary. Aside from wanting to share my experiences and personal opinion about random stuffs with readers (who stomach my own sound judgement), blogging has become a way of expressing myself and releasing emotions. It is an effective source of great solace! But try to scan my recent posts here and you would realize they are all about melancholy and problems. Unfortunately, I turned my page into a very lonesome place.

I miss the old carefree life. I miss sleeping with a buoyant mind at night. I miss blogging about how I luxuriate in happiness. I miss going to college, joining a competition, living a fab life. I miss the old me... See how discontent I am with my life now?

I know it is horrible to be continually discontent with my life, when others suffer from starvation and others lose a loved one. This drama sprang when I wanted to have a stable career. One day, I just found my importunate self with a big pressure instilled in me. I could wait no more.

I feel depressed and frustrated, especially when I know I am doing my part but does not turn out well. It kills happiness. It negatively affects my perspective. Does everything depend upon one's action? Or it solely depends upon one's fate/destiny? Worse, I stopped appreciating life and people beside me.

Where is the girl who joyfully dances while being showered with problems? Where is the girl who never stops aiming high? Where is the girl full of dreams and hope? Where is the girl who works in the morning and exercises at night? Where is the girl who is so in love and would cross a mud hole for her sweetheart?

Here I am now - Squawking about life, throwing away people's love and affection, and drowsing only to skip the blues.

I originally wanted this to end on a hopeful note. But it is hard to do so when you are sick at heart and low-spirited.

I want this to be over.