dots of three

When I first came across blogging, I thought to myself, "WOW! Technology has found a way to create a virtual version of a typical diary". I was euphoric. Not because I had with me a diary or something, but that, I get to read other people's opinion at just about anything - views on politics, sports, travel, food and my own personal favorite, fashion. And not only that. Bloggers are actual people  sporting honest-to-goodness point of views on anything or anybody. And they are not castigated as the bad ones or villains by the entire blogosphere population. Other readers and bloggers hear them out. On top of that, they are simple people, everyday people, that speak, move and dress how they feel on any given day. I've found another piece of heaven in this crest fallen era filled with fabricated stories and melodramatic synopsis of persons we can't even relate to half the time and they even have the guts to call it LIFE! Absurd.

So, while I was taking a shower, something got me thinking: Every single day made in this lifetime is never a story filled only with promises, happy endings and positivity. There are days when you are not in your best and life is basically biting you right in your ass. There was a nagging part of me that wanted to let off steam with the raging thoughts I've been having lately. And being alone in a new country does not provide me the much needed comfort of family and friends that my very own Cebu could. So, I mentally scanned all other outlets, and here I am writing just about the tip most part of my #notsogreat #nearingthebrinkofdesperation Tuesday.

Looking back on the months that's been, I was all in full force thinking that change was what I needed. I was stuck with a job I don't understand fully, I was complaining to both family and friends as to how things are not coinciding with the dreams I have planned out for myself, and I was unhappy. I felt I was missing out on something, something I should've done a very long time ago, but then fear got to the best of me. Probably, leaving what I've always known should've shocked me, but there was comfort when I finally made the step. I can't quite explain it. Perhaps it was because the people I left knew that this is what I should be doing - claiming the dream of making it, and they loved me no matter what. I guess, it provided me something to anchor my dreams with and not totally rely on whatever bad stuffs that might come my way. 

Now, I am on my 3rd week - still job hunting, with 3 interviews made from the past 2 weeks, and still flat out zero with any job contracts. I am unemployed, stuck in this new flat and I haven't had my dose of exercise nor shopped for the last 3 weeks. You might ask me how I am holding up? To be honest, not good. Living in an unfamiliar territory without any promising deal is very challenging. And every decline or mismatch of job credentials is a constant cut to my catatonic, already bruised up psyche. Am I enjoying this? No. But am I going to give up? HELL NO! 

At times it would've been easier for me to simply pack my things, leave Singapore and head back home and keep doing what I do. But, as comforting as it is to see my loved ones again, it just doesn't feel right. It's a mantra I keep telling myself that risks were made and giving up should never be included on the menu. 

Basically, I am at a certain point wherein I can't really seem to make things out. I know it's suppose to be that, but it's just plain surreal. Meaning what you really want and wanting it badly is probably the scariest thing to ever feel in this lifetime. Because it could either be life-changing or life-damaging. Either way, there's no turning back.

So my official status as of today is, still hanging on. Please make this rope extra durable , my biceps extra strong and my hands extra non sweaty so I can really make it no matter how hard things might shake me up. Lead me to my dream Lord.