Tag Archives: emotion

Particulars; and why you need to surround yourself with them.

Think about how much more wonderful life would be if every person on this earth did what they were passionate about and pursued it ’till the very bits of its end. Think about the outcome and how much positivity you will be surrounded with. How great it would be to be courageous and driven enough to run after what you want (and, in a perfect world, conquer all obstacles thrown in your way and find long term success, whatever that success may be.) How much more clear laughs will sound and how truer words will be spread.

Sometimes it hits me late at night (as it did now, I’m afraid), right as I’m trying to draw a close to my day for a few hours before I begin again; I really start to think (and I know you did too, at some point in time, think my exact thoughts), that time is running by. I don’t want to put it harshly but there is a finish line and sooner or later everyone will cross it and that’s about as clear as day. But unlike usual marathons, this one counts on what you actually accomplish on your way to the red band you will tear, because everyone will reach it; and unfortunately the faster you do, the worse it will be for you, because the saddest part about the marathon is that there are absolutely 0 winners. You won’t be given a trophy for finishing first or arriving a few seconds after the winner, what will determine your “success” is how you ran (I hope I haven’t milked this metaphor too much, please tell me if I did).

My mind was wandering around ideas like how much less weight there would be over our tired little shoulders if people really dug deep to find what truly and unquestionably motivates them and makes them happy, and went after it.

Throughout my (still pretty short compared to others) life, I have met a wide range of people, and I have realized why it is that I am attracted to those that I will from now on forward call “particulars”. They are the particular souls that you just feel are different from the rest of the bunch; and that difference usually comes from them being open about what they like, what motivates them, and generally who they are as people. They are the ones who are unafraid to question themselves repeatedly and fearfully (yes, fearfully), but they do, and they try as much as they can to do what they love in a world absolutely filled and overflowing with judgements and pre-judgements and pre-pre judgements and doubt and the fear of what will happen if I do what I actually love doing. These particulars inject what they love doing in their daily lives and you can just feel their presence when they walk into work or when they get back home. They are the artists who, even if they did not become artists, ended up injecting art in their lives so well that they never needed a canvas.

If you know these particulars/ if you’ve felt their presence before, you will know who I’m talking about. These are the people who are not just “good” at what they’re doing, they are the change and the difference. They are what makes this life extremely enjoyable in all its mundanity and unpleasantly usual routines.  They can be that teacher you had that really, really made an impact on you, a person you met in the office that does their job so absolutely brilliantly that you start questioning what you really got from your Masters Degree. They can be a classmate that teaches you so much more than what’s written on the slides, and who knows? It can even be you, particular person. (Because I’ll let you in on one last little secret before I literally fall asleep on my keyboard: we are all f***ing particulars! In our own ways. But for your own mental health, stay around these people, learn from them and let them influence you in the best way possible and let them make your brain itch sometimes because the clock is still ticking! and you’re still running, but by being more particular, in your own way, you’ll learn to forget that there’s a finish line.

*Sidenote forgive the cheesiness in this post if you smelled it, it’s 2:33 am and my brain may be farting bubbles. Hope you enjoyed the read 🙂

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Music

Okay,

Lit candle: Check

Study light on: Check

Cushion under my bum because my desk is just too damn high (or I’m too short, Pot(ay)to/Pota(a)to) : Check

Here we go, let’s study.

An hour and a half deep in my copy book trying to understand as much as I could the Statistic exercises the teacher gave us, that seem just a little too easy, I stop. There’s something I don’t understand, so I decided to go downstairs and ask my roommate, sitting in the study room.

I walk in the closed room and hear something, I can honestly say, I’ve never heard so close in my entire nineteen-year-old-lifetime-of-hearing-things before. There he was, sitting on a desk cluttered with papers and calculators and the sheer smell of stress. But he wasn’t even paying attention to the tsunami displayed on the table, instead, he was singing. By that I mean playing with his voice with such ease and force. My heart fell right into my hands, so I took it beside me and listened to him. There, I forgot my exercise questions and my exam and my worries and my happiness and my everything. I forgot my eyes because all I wanted to do was hear his voice playing in my head. His echo was the only thing surrounding us and it hugged me tightly and played with my hair. My roommate cried. My mind cried and his piercing voice slid through the bones of my rib cage. My heart, still comfortably in my hands, was beating so loud I had to silence it, for it not to interline with his rapid echo. Another girl was sitting in the room with us, she sang too, and my shriveled heart re-plunged into my hands, almost too easily, now, used to the size of my palms and the warmth of my fingers. I heard them sing tune after tune of songs I didn’t always know but was glad to be introduced to for the first time through their voices.

They finished and I left calmly with no statistics answer to my question and no remorse about it whatsoever.

Moved to tears

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/moved-to-tears-2/

In response to: Do movies, songs, or other forms of artistic expression easily make you cry? Tell us about a recent tear-jerking experience!

Oh my God I I whale and cry in every shape and sense of the term. Tears just happen and I’ll be lying to you if I said it didn’t feel good sometimes. I remember weeping when I watched The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. By the end of the film I felt like I had lost weight. and Yes I also watched Titanic and weeped like I’ve never weeped before with no shame. I was a wet mess. I remember my brother looking at me like “it was not that bad come on” and i just went on and on. What triggers everything is probably seeing people cry. Funny enough it’s as contagious as a laugh and I catch it every time.

I also cried when I read the twilight books. Very much. Sew me.  My mom walked in the room shocked by my constant cries and red face extravaganza.

As for songs I can’t help the tears when listening to How to save a life by The Fray where I just imagine everything and how he’s feeling and all that ball of emotions starts rolling down my cheeks. The piano hits me hardest, then come the vocals and one thing leads to another as I grab my tissue.