Some things I’ve learned

Before you go further, I’d like to thank all those people who recently followed me. I mean, why? I’ve been active as a sloth in the summer (not sure how accurate that is, I know they are creepy looking and slow beyond comprehension). What I am try to say is this: thank you so much!

It’s not easy to communicate the way we feel especially to a person we trust. We worry about their opinion about us, because let’s face it it’s easy to say that ‘it doesn’t matter what people say’. I treat it as a blanket phrase. It matters when it’s someone we value, because they matter. I don’t know why I ever thought that writing about my problems should be any easier. I’ve started countless times only to scrap an entire post because I feel ridiculous and I realize just how much of a private person I am. I have read blogs where writers bare a good portion of their souls to perfect strangers and I think it’s both stupid and brave.

These days I’m hounding the scent of inspiration. It is what drives us, not only a good cause will be enough to stick to a goal; be it studying, to put in volunteer work, to work two jobs even if you don’t have to but because you think it will prove beneficial in the long run; to make your parents proud; to prove a point. We need the motivation, some of us need it as incentive to live another day, to not give up on ourselves. Let me share this quote I found:

People often say that motivation doesn’t last well. Well, neither does bathing. That’s why we recommend it daily” – Anon

I don’t admire the girl I was for the past five or six years ago, if I could I would slap her silly and tell her to grow up fast. The quicker she learned that time is running out, how very far she’s yet to go, how much she’ll suffer in her own hands; I wish I was more aware of my mortality and (ironically?) my own indifference or obliviousness, or both if it’s not already the same thing. I’m thankful that I did, at any rate. At the same time I heeded the timeless advice of learning from my mistakes, most of the time anyway. That’s progress. Read More »

The House of Hades (The Heroes of Olympus #4) by Rick Riordan

SPOILER ALERT: If you haven’t read The Mark of Athena as yet, please don’t go any further.

via Goodreads

Rated it: ★★★★★

GR Blurb

At the conclusion of The Mark of Athena, Annabeth and Percy tumble into a pit leading straight to the Underworld. The other five demigods have to put aside their grief and follow Percy’s instructions to find the mortal side of the Doors of Death. If they can fight their way through the Gaea’s forces, and Percy and Annabeth can survive the House of Hades, then the Seven will be able to seal the Doors both sides and prevent the giants from raising Gaea. But, Leo wonders, if the Doors are sealed, how will Percy and Annabeth be able to escape?

They have no choice. If the demigods don’t succeed, Gaea’s armies will never die. They have no time. In about a month, the Romans will march on Camp Half-Blood. The stakes are higher than ever in this adventure that dives into the depths of Tartarus.

Okay. I don’t know what exactly to say (oh but I do), other than that events have certainly heated up, so to speak. The House of Hades is the darkest installment yet, it had me on the edge of my seat and in an almost dire state of emotional crisis. While The Lost Hero and The Son of Neptune introduced the new players and had healthy plots; The Mark of Athena saw all of the seven finally assembled aboard the Argo II as well as decent character advancement, this fourth book I observed a greater sense of growth in all of them though at varying degrees, most of all Frank (as anticipated) and Leo (I’m going to relapse in feels). AND ANNABETH AND PERCY ARE IN TARTARUS FOR HEAVEN’S SAKE.

I particularly appreciated how as the  story progressed the meaning of the prophesy takes on newer, more clearer and curiously personal meanings, completely different from what I thought before. Hazel is tested on her newfound abilities and after days of seasickness and worry we see her stepping up to the plate as she’s faced with decisions at crossroads and a farting polecat.

Piper really takes charge of her life, with her training and less focus on Jason and I gotta say I’m most pleased with her better sense of self, not as itchy in her role in the seven and as a daughter of Aphrodite. A certain snow bitch goddess didn’t know what she was stirring up.

We finally get a good feel for Jason‘s character, we see him shaping his identity against some of the traditional Roman values he was instilled with, and becoming more of his own man if you can understand that, instead of the guy they think he is and how how he should be. Palpably no longer the man he used to be. Am I happy? Bet your butts I am. 

His and Nico‘s relationship (not that kind, shippers I’m looking at you) is especially interesting. No one knew what to make of the son of Hades, the wild card, even his sister. So Jason, understandably apprehensive of the guy, having little choice but to “split” from the crew for a while with Nico had sort of … an education.Read More »

Judging covers and all that jazz

You look at some people, at their outward appearances and you judge them to some length. It think it’s instinctive but I also think it’s important to treat it as a hastily scrawled sticky note. One can’t fully ever know a person, no matter how long you’ve known someone, heck, they don’t even know who they are half of the time. I can attest. I want to kick the habit of insta-judge but that doesn’t mean I’ll make friends with any and all. I believe it’s instinctive, this measuring up, for the purpose of self preservation for at some level whilst meeting for the first time (for however briefly) you try to pick up vibes, peaceable, proceed-with-caution or run-the-frak-away. That said, everyone fights invisible wars. Ugh, what I’m getting at is … how to put it?

This has a meaning. I’m sure it has.

Here I am. Great things are expected of me and such, you know how family can be (if yours is like mine), supportive with bright eyes and two thumbs aggressively up. Here I am, a chronic-insomniac who is slowly gaining ground in the battle of accepting myself, my fat lazy ass self. I subject myself to self-hate sporadically for various reasons. Sometimes I am so mad at me to the point that I am afraid of what I transform into.

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Strangers on my wall

Here’s my offering for this week’s Picture it and Write! photo prompts hosted by Ermilia Blog. I must admit this was was a half hearted attempt but I would truly appreciate your thoughts. Cheers!

via Ermila Blog

Another day has caught up with me. The night giving way to the morning, but not without a struggle, for I sensed the rain before I heard it pelting on the cold zinc roof. The chaotic many-tiny-fisted pounding echoed with the way I’ve took a habit of feeling these days. What am I doing staying up, reading books that only feed imagination? At this point Percy Jackson is having a ball finding his path on his way of becoming a hero. In what way was that helpful? When see people my age getting jobs and slowly becoming adults, it prods an uneasy spot in me that gives way to hopeless panic.

I can follow up on the AL biology texts I’d thrown in a corner. But it’s not like I get into that field. I haven’t a clue in which way direction to stumble towards. The wind howled past me, sending the closed window to my right into a fit of nervous shuddering. I fancy it was trying to make up its mind too, hearing my mental distress and was attempting to choose a proper cardinal point.

If I was honest with myself I would admit that I knew exactly what I wanted but I find that my sense of duty a somewhat reluctant obstacle. I mean, it’s not like I could pack up and go exploring. I’m almost broke and living with my aunt and her husband to whom both I already owe a lot.

I should probably find a profession that involves traveling and learning. Archeology was shot down pretty gently and I’m quite embarrassed for myself for submitting to that conclusion they’d drawn up so confidently; my “Indiana Jones” phase. There’s this restlessness inside me that stirs at the glimpse of the churning sea, or at the uneven horizon of mist shrouded mountain tops, the drifting scent of fresh dew and the far cry of a high flying bird.

Aunt Em says that I am pining for my parents. That I want to somehow go out in the big yonder in search for a long gone trail. How do I explain to her that I gave up on them? Read More »

Weekly Photo Challenge: Treasure

What do you treasure? What’s most important to you?



When I think about treasure I think of them. They’re little people now but I can’t wait to see what kind of grown ups they’ll be years from now. It’s a privilege to be their big sister, I get to influence them, to make them be good and kind. I love them missing teeth, scarped knees, weird giggles and all. They fill my days with screamed warnings and annoyance but at the same time make me laugh and feel better when I’m stranded. They anchor me in a world that’s bent on challenging my will. Such days will come for all of ’em and I’ll be there to get them through it. That’s what we do with our treasures, we protect them.


To Mothers

via Pinterest, click to see

Yesterday I was on a pin-athon and I made a board for the Avengers, because let’s face it people they are freaking awesome, but are they more so than moms? That might be a trick question but seeing that we all have met a real life mother than a real life super hero with mad ninja skills and wicked powers, yeah, I’d say moms are pretty fantastic. I can’t begin to imagine what it must be like to give birth to and help raise five children, and live through the grief of the death of a new born son as my mother had. Don’t you forget the house work, my mama doesn’t let me.

There were times when I swore she couldn’t understand me and never will, but I’ve grown up and saw that she knows a lot more than she lets on. She can be really silly and thoughtful, I could tell her almost about everything but I don’t sometimes because I don’t want to add more to her pressure. Over the years she’s given me advice here and there, preparing me for the time when I have to go out on my own (whenever the hell that is because over here kids live with parents for years).

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The importance of mornings

Via Pinterest, click to see

This morning I hadn’t much sleep, but unlike most this was with good reason. My grandma wasn’t feeling well and I got up to test her sugar and pressure a couple times. She took her pills. I worry about her. I followed her to the washroom least she falls and hit herself again. She insisted on going with my father to the city, ordering my mother and I not to tell him anything. I usually do tell him, but I suspect if I did today she’d end up getting mad at me and stressing her tired heart even more. I love my grandma dearly.

I’m always told that I’m her favourite, and I always smile because I could see that I was. For the most part of my eighteen years I slept by her side and as each year sprints away I wonder how much longer do we have with her. Well, her and my granda. I wouldn’t handle it well at all should something happen to them, and I hate to say this to sound biased, especially her. That woman is the most hard working person, next to my dad, who I had the honor to know, I would cry if I were to recount what the both of them have been through. My parents will be around for a while yet but I hope to God that I get to squeeze as much time with them.

I set my phone to wake her up a 2:30 AM. I got up again at five, opened my favourite window and cloud gazed. Mornings are for … I forgot this already, let me try … Mornings are for positive thoughts and good energy. Think about it; they aren’t there just to look pretty (if the weather feels fine), it has a purpose and if you look hard enough and far enough you’ll see it.

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Brittle beauty

Here’s my piece for the other week’s Ermilia Blog’s Picture It! and Write photo prompts. I hope you like it.


I sat cross legged on the comfy old couch, the still resilient cushions sag a little under the memories of the worries and joys it’s past owners had confided in its warm welcoming embrace. Perhaps mine will be added to the burden of the emotions it so silently carries without much complaint. What I felt now, as I curl up with my knees held tightly to my chest, was hurt mixed with confusion and betrayal. I had to get past this. I can’t ignore it any longer, because if I want to put this nightmare behind be I have to face it. I rocked back and forth a few times before I made up my mind completely, unfolded myself and reached under the couch, feeling around for the pouch I hid in the upholstery.

My had returned with a plain looking leather scroll purse, nothing special about it other than it had to be unrolled. My fingers ran over the spots where it began to peel, released the clasp and watched it unfurl. I unzipped the zipper that ran along its length, my hands were shaking as I eyed my progress like if its contents would sprout poisonous fangs … it came close. My breath caught as it always had when the black pure velvet lining reveals itself, with the small sparkly diamonds cascading until they come rest silently. Arrogantly. Beautifully. Coldly.

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Rainbow poison

It looks like I’m going to be on a roll with Picture It and Write! Awesome possum (that didn’t make an ounce of sense but I like it) Ah well, here’s last weeks prompt.“Morning ma,” I called as I skidded, socked feet on smooth hardwood floor, moon dancing my way to the kitchen table.”Good morning, and please for the millionth time don’t do that!” she snapped out the last half frowning just as Matt did exactly the same thing but, unlike me, he fell on his behind, hard. I sniggered as he sat on the stool and he shot me a look, he’ll be sore all day.

“Mathew! Oh, why do I even say it?” Clang! went the frying pan on the burner. Just like that the room got tense.

I got serious then, contemplating her over the rim of my glass of 5% real orange juice. Her hair had escaped her hasty bun, chestnut tendrils of it stuck to her damp forehead and the nape of her neck as she whipped the eggs around in the pan, a fury of clangs and bangs. Her face was grim and coated in her special shade of reddish pink, a sign of change of her capricious mood.

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Let the winds push you forward not back … and a short update from me

Buenos dias amigos! I haven’t posted since last Sunday. The funny thing is that when I’m not supposed to be writing as I normally do it’s then when I come up with some really good ideas to post about and I usually forget to write some of those those ideas down. Anyway I’ll be returning to normal posting after the 12th due to, as I’ve mentioned in previous posts, my AS exams. After having finished Biology and English paper 2, I’m left with English paper 1 (which I’ll be writing tomorrow) and Biology labs on the 8th and finally Biology multiple choice on the 12th. I’ll fill you guys in more details later if I remember.

Hurricane Sandy: 10/30/2012
Hurricane Sandy: 10/30/2012 (Photo credit: ccho)

And that’s cheerful news as compared to the terror that goes by the name of Sandy. I don’t want to miss saying anything about this because I’m compelled to write about it yet I don’t relish lingering on the carnage she left in her path so I’ll try not to. I am terribly sorry for all those who have lost loved ones, homes and business that were utterly destroyed after years and years of hard work and risks. My being sorry might not help much or at all but I hope my prayers do.

I see New Yorkers slowly picking up speed again, as I’m confident others are too, and I want to let them all know that my heart goes out to them. I really admire their courage for getting up after this disaster and move on, Read More »