Hi 2023

As I make my way to another time, I am grateful for my family and a friend. I hope everyone stays frosty. It is going to be an interesting year after all.

sC

Realised Truth

After years and years of trying to figure this life, I finally have found the answers. Then I ask, why have I not realise them sooner?

The truth is, somehow a sad truth, I am destined to love but not be loved. Only divine love can meet my understanding and even my standards of love, as how it should be experienced. Only God and myself can love me truly and deeply. I guess the love that comes from my son is included. After all, he has been a part of me for a period of time. There is also that cosmic chord that connects us as mother and child.

I know my husband loves me, but I never feel the fulfilment from him. I choose to love him, because he is such a pure soul. It is a delight to love him until he has told me to let him love me, and then my demise slowly creeps in. I believe it is what made me greatly sad and mad, to the point of leaving this reality unfinished.

And so again, I cannot let anybody love me. Now that I get my bearings back, meaning my walls are up and strongly about, I would not let anyone in anymore. It is the only way for me to continue this lifetime head on. I am determined to see my purpose through. I have to achieve the meaning of my existence. 

Somehow I know the essence of my life, even of the next and the one after that –– love, just love, like how love should be.

I should feel down about knowing, but I feel relief. I am peaceful. I mean, everybody wants to be loved. I guess, I am an exception. I need somebody to love, though. My son is that somebody. It use to be my husband, but he already has his fair share of me.

I am curious. Is this only me? Or will my son be the same somehow someday? Perhaps I should give him warnings and pointers. Such yearning is inevitable, whether it be love or just lust, the longing to be with someone is given –– to share time, space and energy called love. Oh, love!

Do I want to be loved, perhaps in the future? Hmmnn... I prefer being adored or admired from a distance. I rather have a limited and controlled relations with another being, particularly considering the amount of time, space and energy involved. I have no desire to exert or even waste such factors with anyone anymore, except with my son of course. Yeah... I guess it has taken me awhile to realise universal existence.

Watching love,

sC

Ministry | Mystery

It seems I have lost almost a couple of months. I have discovered and realised so many things. They make sense. 

I realise that this is a new life now. Literally. One of which not really my own to live for myself. I have already ended my own life for the first part of the lifetime in this reality, or world, whatever or wherever or whenever I am right now. The next forty years is a life of my purpose, which I sought after eagerly since I started to embrace in my first half of existence as a material being.

And so, this purpose is called the Ministry of Motherhood. It is funny... all those years of questioning and being depressed just because life seems unreasonable. Oh well, here I am carrying on as one of the hosts of a growing soul. Maternal responsibility is divine in every aspect of it.

And then, I (re)discover that everything is energy, and energy is everything. It is amazing how I come to know free energy. Even writing now means I am expelling energy. I want to keep anything I do short, straightforward and strict. It is called energy saving.

And perhaps, I would not be writing here more often. I mean, not that I write somewhere else online. I do not even post FB status anymore. I still write... on my physical diary, mostly my dreams.

I have changed. I embrace the change.

Steady on,

sC

For The Love Of Me

I believe my everlasting purpose, or yet, the essence of my every existence is love. I mean, generally, love is really the point of being. I get it more or less like everybody gets it. But what gets me is, how I am suppose to contain it or control it. I am a sucker for love, not in such a mediocre fairy tale way, but an addiction I need to shake off in every life that I ought live, or even in this life. Am I really addicted to love itself? Because really, I swoon over materialised love on TV.  Pretend love as it may seems, it makes my spirit soar high. Ha! Is that why I have never gotten myself into illegal drugs to get high? Perhaps because I am looking for that kind of high in love, whatever its form or how ever it is displayed. Hmm....

I found my true love in this lifetime. My son. He is the definition of an unconditional love. He loves me regardless of my dysfunctional being. He gravitates. He reveres. He loves me through and through. He knows how to love me. I believe it works both ways too. Well, it is just expected from me because I am his mother somehow. We have our bad times, which mostly coming from my part. I feel ashamed knowing how I am some times with him.

While I watch him put himself to a nap. I have an epiphany –– I will fulfil this purpose in my son (make sure his being is ironclad perfect), then I am off to fall in love again. Absolutely in another life, because I am already sired to my husband in this life.

sC

Thoughts Overload

I should just start writing for real, like something that will translate into a book. Instead, I keep writing about what I have watched on TV. It is not totally a bad thing. The fact that I am writing, it is good. I am putting on my thinking hat. I have the strength and energy to be able to write something.  Am I just being impatience? Because I know the day would come that I am an established published writer. I am there with the likes of Murakami –– odd literary fiction. Or, how I wish I could have one of my pieces on Korean TV. My very own drama series or something like it. Manifest!

Oh I know I am a great writer. I just do not have the right avenues to get my writing across except, of course, by blogs. Speaking of, I have made another one. I think that discussing my cathartic experiences with K-drama should be a blog itself. I want to share that part of me to the world. I mean, I know an audience would materialise eventually. Perhaps a lot of people would buy me coffee for my thoughts or takes on these TV series.

I need to catch up on my dreams as well. It's been a week or so. I still have those vivid memories which I need to record in my dream diary. They are very interesting. They could be writing subjects, really. And as much as I want to do so, I need to catch up with household chores. Oh well.

I think that I have to come up with a writing discipline like Murakami. Maybe I start with writing a thousand words a day, whether they are just blog entries or a continuation of the story I have been working on. 

But first what to watch,

sC coffee Buy me coffee?

Self-Celebration

Today is Mother's Day. I need to be celebrated. My husband is so complacent recently. He keeps forgetting those little things which make me swoon over the moon. I am not one for these trivial occasions like today or Valentine's Day. Yet, I need such adulations recently because I do not want to discount my self anymore. I am me. I do not stoop down, or yield to anything or anyone that looks down on what I am made of.

I know that 6,000 miles from here, I am so much loved. Has it not for my current situation, I would have gone back. I would have simmered in such a wonderful feeling. I would have carted my little darling with me. He would have started to know how is it to be truly loved in a celebratory way.

Honestly, I just want my husband to celebrate me, perhaps thank me for being a mother. I mean, coming to think of it, I still cannot imagine myself in a maternal position. I mean really, even more, because I am taking on most of his paternal role. I deserve a cake. I deserve flowers. I deserve a pair of nice earrings. I deserve sincere gratitude most of all.

Oh well, my son has done all that. My sweet sweet boy. My purpose of life. My reason of breathing. As much as I am joyous knowing his gesture, I am heartbroken since he filled his dad's shoes as a husband. My son's pure and true love is more that enough for me, really. I just need to constantly remind myself, especially if I need to feel affection from my husband. I have to accept that he has already abandoned me a long time ago. Even if we are together, his presence is not with me or our family anymore. He is more of a visitor. He becomes my unwelcome guest, or that's how it feels so lately.

I am going to celebrate myself. I have done my crying. There are still residues of hurt, but I am mostly fine. I guess, meditation works. And so, I am celebrating myself as a mother, a job I have never imagined I would ever take on. I am celebrating my purpose. I am going to see to it that I finish with flying colours.

Now I am going to get myself a gift,

sC

The Highest Form Of Love

God never fails. Never ever.

For years, I could not understand why my husband does not get the ultimate meaning of love, which is sacrifice. He is always baffle about such grand gesture, in fact, it is the grandest form of gesture as far as loving is concerned. He and I always go head to head about the how's and why's. I admit I demand, I nag him of it. Why not?! I have been doing it since day one, and day in and day out. It has sent me to the abyss of sadness. It has stripped most of my dignity. I have had hit rock-bottom, unfortunately.

Then yesterday has happened. God always has a way of schooling me about my life. It turns out love out of sacrifice is the highest form. It is called Agape. I know that, but I have just found out that I am capable of it, not just God who has sacrificed His son Jesus. The priest has said so, and then I have an epiphany.

I forgive my husband, and I am going to keep forgiving him for not knowing and not doing what such love entails, which I demand of him. I have thought it's just the way it is, if one truly loves another. I forgive him most of all, because I realise I am his first true experience of love; of being loved; of how being loved or to love should be. I could blame it on his childhood, again. Same reason why, after all the arguing, I still choose to forgive him; I still choose to stay with him. It has been wrong of me to ask so much from my husband, beyond his knowledge and capacity.

The child in me has fallen in love with the child in him. I do not want to abandon the child in him, especially he and I have a child together. I would be abandoning two innocent children, have had I not insist for another chance of life.

The funny thing is, my little boy knows more how to express love than his father. And it is okay now, because I have shown him how it is to be loved as love should be truly experienced. My son is so in love with me everyday, so much so, he tells me he wishes to marry me everyday. 

It must be nice to be loved by me. My husband is being complacent about it. Like I have said, it is okay now. I get it now. I have son to fill in the gaps, how ever the sizes of them, he knows how to make me whole.

I need to thrive in this life with my husband for our son. He deserves all the love in the world, my love, his dad's love. I need to protect, guide, defend and grow that love in him.

Lotsa love,

sC

Just Right And Enough

I am halfway to tiresome of these self-processing or reflections. It is not I do not get it. I do. I get it. Fully. Truly. Still, I go round and round about it. My only fault is giving all in. Shouldn't be love like that? Apparently, it should not be the case. I contradict myself in fact. I say, everything should be right and enough, and then I go on charity spree. I could not help it. It almost like an addiction. But then again, isn't it unconditional love? Yeah? Right?

Love is so tricky. This so-called limitless love is bound for self-destruction, exactly what happen to me. To love... one should be responsible. Love moderately and adequately instead. Whatever. 

I want to stop talking about love and the likes. I am beginning to think why I am still talking about it?Hahahaha! I could just stop, like right now. Full stop. Stopping. Now.

I guess, I have to be brave and be alone again, which is ironic because I am alone most days. I mean, yeah there is my son. There is my husband. By alone means, just me in my mind and in my being. My only responsibility is my own being. No worries or concerns of another, not my son or my husband. Who am I kidding, right? I am figuring constantly how to navigate my situation. Years and counting... LOL! I make sure it is different this year. I make it happen because I have made peace with it. I forgive myself everyday I am short of an effort or even motivation. It is a big first for me. This is right and enough for now.

Stopping entirely,

sC

K-Therapy

I had depression in the past. After a life-altering condition, it magically disappeared. My mental state hit rock-bottom for years. I made a decision, not necessarily bad, that dehumanised me in such unfortunate ways. I knew, though. I knew what love could do to me –– fuck me sideways hundred folds. But hey, I was always a relentless hopeless romantic. I blamed it on my name in some ways. 

Did I regret it? Somehow most days in the past. But when I realised that the essence of my life, it was all motherfucking worth it! 

Am I still sad now or some days? No. (without a blink). I am happy and thankful everyday, literally. I mean, to live another day is a victory in itself. A celebration of life. 

I feel myself again. I am almost 100%. Thanks to Korean TV, such a good therapy. I discover I am not alone. There are actually people out there who turn to watching K-Series to relax, to be motivated, to be happy... in my not-so unique case, to feel love. I know, right? It is a different kind of love. I mean, it is self-love. I am giving myself love. I outsource like I have always said. I mean, it is something without any string of expectation. I watch love. I absorb it. I process it. I convert it. I am all good. It is almost my version of meth. LOL! I get giddy-high, seriously.

The thing is that, I believe I am not good at receiving love, because I demand eventually. I mean, I have standards. Easy as they seem, but deadline-tricky. Fulfilment of the requirements is almost impossible. Only my son knows, and he is five years old. Again, he is me after all.

Anyway, the writings of some K-TV are impeccable, almost Shakespearean. I revel in existentialism and surrealism vis-a-vis expressionism. Although I must admit, the men are gorgeous. I want my son to be like them. Height, looks, manners among others!

But then, I feel like I need to do something else too. I might try tying knots.

Living and loving like a rockstar,

sC