The 400-word QuickWrite Challenge: Missing Mood

I miss you.

Missing someone or something can be both empty and devastating. I could miss a good friend who has decided to leave my side because she has to chase her dreams elsewhere and that would have to make me feel empty; however, I could also miss hours of sleep or a coffee break and that would have to be very devastating. Well, more than the clash of word choice of course, missing someone or somebody creates a void that likewise vacuums all dust of memories back to a filter somewhere behind the clouds of self-doubt and make me illusion that I can trust myself again to be genuinely happy. Sometimes all we need is a speck of memory to hit us on the eyeball and induce some teardrops so that we may feel again. When someone or somebody is lost, we tend to be emotionless. We forget to feel. Sometimes we are too hurt, too lonely to trust in happiness again. Sometimes we are too hurt, too unloved to embrace new possibilities for existence.

If I cease on dropping a word, a smile, a glance, does it mean I have given up on reminiscence? You have to understand I cannot just hang on to a memory of you, or wait for things to be the same again since the day we bid our “until then’s.” I think about you all the time, even if I am not. It doesn’t make sense, I know. How can you say that you are thinking of someone all the time when you have not even given time to type in “hi” the very least. Have I given up on you? Well maybe dropping in to say Hi would seem to be a bit obligatory to you, and/or maybe I am just scared you won’t say Hello back.

The trouble with missing as a state of feeling is you torture yourself by the thought of having to stand on a blank space and offering yourself consolation that the thoughts of the thing that was once yours, or the memory of person who was once there, would fill in the void and ease the pain. Yet, just like cliches, missing as a state of feeling is too predictable to be rewarding.

What now if I miss you? What now if I miss sleep? coffee? class? Would that feeling matter  to the world at all?

Writing 101, Day Nineteen: Don’t Stop the Rockin’

On this free writing day, remember the words of author Anne Lamott: “I don’t think you have time to waste not writing because you are afraid you won’t be good at it.”

Today is a free writing day. Write at least four-hundred words, and once you start typing, don’t stop. No self-editing, no trash-talking, and no second guessing: just go. Bonus points if you tackle an idea you’ve been playing with but think is too silly to post about.




Vending machines that dispense instant coffee are what I consider as one of the best inventions of my lifetime but across milestones of insta-stuff, from noodles to photos, it will no longer be a surprise if the next day, vending machines would start dispensing happy pills in this overly challenging world.

A fortune cookie, a power quote, a warm fuzzy, a message from God—these are a few things I wish vending machines offer. I really could use an instant relief to woes that might just render me insane. Or these things could come with a warm cup of coffee, of course.


#GOODMORNIGHT: Sleep, maybe?

Blame not my shots of latte.

Studies say so, putting off sleep is a worldwide trend. It is considered as the next big thing to twittering that you might want to start tweeting a hash tag about it. It even has a name: #SLEEPPROCRASTINATION. Finally I have found the word that best justifies the disease I am enduring in a therapeutic kind of way.

My daily prompt is just an eye opener-more like the best thing I need to keep me awake in the next few hours of my bedtime procrastination:

“More and more of us go to bed too late because of sleep procrastination. What are the nighttime rituals that keep you up before finally dozing off?”

If I am not scrolling through tweets and preying on a brilliant sarcasm to retweet, then most probably I am composing a personal tweet in a form of a pun or an oxymoron of the things I have left unsaid for the day. Hash tags for me are virtual punches. Most often, I waste time aiming to construe my insights and judgments through these online blows. Twitter is too loaded of the things I want to say that to me it is a cyber vodka that lets me spill the things I hold my tongue in contempt in real life. When I finally doze off, sometimes I feel that I have forgotten a tweet and my dream is stuck somewhere inside the box that tells me I can only type in 140 characters of my thoughts.

If I am not getting the shock of my life in my facebook news feed, then most probably I am writing a shout out of bits of imagery encompassing the timeline of tenses of English grammar, with my favorite being the now tense or the present progressive. It could be from what I am hearing or what I am feeling, to what I am watching or listening. Facebook is a personality vanity. From time to time, I have to submit myself to a make-over especially when statuses I post sound like a bad hair day. Facebook gives faces to memories on photos too, so if I am not posting status or photos yet, then most probably I am caught somewhere in my phone apps stitching photos in photo grid or pic collage, “theme”-ing up a page in instamag, or exploring filters in instagram. Nights turn to days too if I start cruising youtube or navigating pinterest for varying personal to work-related preferences of music, photos and just about any random penchant as I please. A hectic social life over net turns every lappy-human vicinity into a city that never sleeps.

If I am not working on a sub-plot to my class activities as narrated in my lesson plan or if I am not “googling” for fast facts about new topics, then most probably I am sorting my lappy’s desktop files and placing them in their appropriate folders, emptying my recycle bin or deciding if I keep or delete existing files that I find no use of. With a habit of saving new files or downloads on the desktop, I take a lifetime accomplishing the simplest task of sorting. With ideas for class and work that are like party gate crashers to my official office hours, I cannot keep these cluttered files and tasks from tagging along to my bedside and keep me awake for as long as they want me to, like I can’t control them from stealing my precious hours for sleep and rest.

If I am not counting sheep or listening to Counting Stars and the rest of the songs in my One Republic playlist, then most probably I am catching up on an old movie or episodes of Korean drama that I put off finishing because I convince myself every single day that I am busy. Korean dramas in particular is like drugs that not only get me addicted but also heal me from my woes and blues. Korean dramas outdo twitter, facebook and all other insomnia-inducing social networking sites, in putting off bedtime every after 50 minutes ago when I tell myself “one episode more.” I do not even doze off satisfied. I doze off promising myself I am meeting the lead male actor in my dream and we are going to run together the lines from the drama that I love.

Just recently, I have wordpress, the ultimate outlet of my lengthy sentences, overlapping structures and cliches. Finally I have harbored a place where random scribbles can reside, during my peak hours or most productive moments. The hours that I have found myself to be working magic and nuisance  are between 9 pm to 3 am. Now how can sleep be ever possible?


Researches also revealed that those who are running for pro in bedtime procrastination are the people who never get enough sleep. Truth can sometimes be real nightmare. While the day seems to be under-time, most people like me who suffer bedtime procrastination spend the night shift making up for the things they have missed, although sleeping is the one thing they keep on missing and skipping.

Now the funny thing about bedtime procrastinators is, they do not know what happens after 3 am: is it going to be today? or tomorrow? Now that is disturbing.

How do we greet each other then at 3am?

Good Mornight will do. 🙂