It's fun to talk to strangers

I guess it’s fun to talk to strangers
You have the power to lie or tell the truth
You can say everything about yourself
Or make up stories like your life is smooth

I guess it’s fun to talk to strangers
For you can introduce yourself anew
You are not obliged to stay true
And when you’re done, you can say ‘adieu’

I guess it’s fun to talk to strangers
So you can learn things you never knew
You can share the same interests and experiences
Or share your side of the coin too

I guess it’s fun to talk to strangers
There are no strings attached
No messy mixed up feelings
The evening ends, you are out of touch

I guess it’s fun to talk to strangers
'Coz for a time you can be what you want to be
No pain, no hurt, no memories
And the stranger believes you whole-heartedly

The Hobbies That Saved Me: Drawing

Ever since I had my first love, I slowly stopped drawing. It took most of my time - you know, all the flirting, the messages, the effort you do when you're in love is just so irreplaceable. I didn't realize that it would deteriorate my drawing skills, well in a way.

Arts was very close to my heart since birth, I dunno, I just love colors, shapes, lines, and patterns. I actually was Best in Art during my kindergarten years, LOL. And I improved as I grew up. I drew people (well, actually it was anime/manga people, not real ones) and they told me to pursue my dreams on becoming an artist.

In this section, I am sharing not only the love for drawing, but actually the love of art in a particular view which is Drawing because I am drawing. You can actually love art without having to draw. But this particular hobby, this one saved me personally. It may be different for others, but I can assure that one touch of art is enough to save you from your entire misery.

I have been learning to draw, mostly anime/manga-kind, since I was in grade school. I was so amazed by what I watch in TV and I try to copy them in my own interpretation. But I started to get busy in highschool, though I still draw sometimes. I, then, had the chance to meet someone whom I thought was good enough to give my heart to. So I invested my time for him. I wasted almost four to five years for that one person who would actually break my heart.

Then I started drawing again, in the effort to release my anger or my emotions through it. In a way, it helped me take my mind off the emotions during the time I was drawing, and maybe it actually is helpful for me to draw since I am being satisfied in it. I drew this doodle on a napkin. It was from Starbucks, and I kept the napkin and drew out a doodle. It was the first doodle I ever made. It was made of the things I love to go to, to do, and to see.

This one I drew on a notebook. It was during my college years, but I'm not quite sure when exactly. I think I was bored in class, so I drew this hair, the braided one, coz I wanted to learn how to braid.

Well, it occurred to me that drawing what I actually want to do helps in some ways. People encourage me to continue what I do, when I never realized it. I did so, thought it was rare for me to draw when I was in my first relationship. I drew us in complete innocence with what happens next.

 

So after a heartbreak, actually during the heartbreak, I attempted to draw my feelings out.  It really felt sad, terrifying, and I just wanted to die in so much misery. I thought I cannot take it anymore so I drew out that I was hurting, confused, wanting to scream, soul-less. I drew self-portraits of I what I thought I am. 

 

Sometimes, I drew things that were good enough a symbol of what I was feeling during the moment. I drew a vase with flowers and falling petals in an attempt to convey letting go, and I drew a mad eye well, to impose that I am mad to see or to witness such a tragedy in my life. The one in the bottom is an allegory of my life, from innocence to a relationship to its dangers and its end, to the future I once dreamed of, and the want to return to where it all began, to undo all the things I've done in my life. 

I started to draw women. I dunno, I guess to empower myself. I mean, I'm a woman you see? And I was meant to be beautiful. I also drew a woman in its bed n the morning wide awake, which is so me in many ways. I portrayed a picture of an insomniac probably because it was hard for me to sleep in all those past lurking behind me.

 Then I started to untangle my feelings with my drawings. I drew abstract things out of simple matter that I thought of. Although it always has a deeper reason for me to do it.

This one I drew out of rage, I was mad and I didn't know what to draw. It looks like an angry wolf, is it not? Hahaha! Well, at least after I had my rage died down, it kinda makes it funny to think of it. I was becoming an animal with such a rage!

This was far from  planned drawing. My pen blotted ink too much so I just decided to make a blot art. XD Mind you, it's the ink of Pilot's G-tec. It's ink is priceless, but I had no choice rather than to completely throw it away, at least I used its ink for art. :)

This hobby has finally developed into deeper interest in arts. Now, I want to do watercolour painting, then acrylic after. I think I would be doing more portraits, and landscapes. Or maybe still life.

Personal interests aside, this whole drawing hobby is a lot of fun! I mean, it developed itself over time. It helped me find my way home (I mean, I lost myself before.. I didn't know who I was anymore, but I know I love art so it led me back to where my heart was once and there I found happiness) It might be a good flatter for your lost, self-pitying soul, like mine. It became my defense mechanism from all the pain, the sorrow, the grief, the loss, the pity. It made me gain self-confidence once more. With it, I knew I was better if I just had known what to do. I wish I had just taken fine arts in school. Maybe I would've been better than what I am now!

This is the one thing I would always share with others. This is what defines me. Arts, Drawing, Shapes, Lines, Patterns, Colors. 

I would definitely blog if I have improved with it! :)

Your Ghost

I saw you. You were very much alive. You and your friends. You talked to me like there’s nothing wrong. At first, I didn’t believe it. I talked to your friends normally, and I didn’t talk to you. But then you treated me as you did before.

Somewhere in the middle of something important, I was sleepy so I lay down in front of you but not facing you. You were somewhere behind me. I closed my eyes so I could sleep. I was somewhat uncomfortable. After a few seconds, something crawled behind my back. It felt like an arm, and it made its way around my waist. I felt it. And I knew it was yours. The way you were holding me before. I recognized it was yours. And I let off a smile. You held me for some time, and for a moment, I thought it was real.