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I tried abstaining myself from my usual routine — I bonded with my family here at Cainta all day and all night long; I stayed away from the insanity which the Internet has been giving to me; I restrained myself from using my phone for Twitter and for Blackberry Messenger and whatnot. Today, I have learnt that everything is not about me and the Internet because sometimes, it’s about me and the rest of the world.
I also tried to do away from what I do best as of today. Hence, writing, it is. Indeed, I tried to do away from my beloved, but I just found myself lying in the ocean of guilt and patching up things. Hence, I can say that writing will never be forgotten by me.
I wanted to forget that I love writing so much, today, but I failed; it just made me miss writing more. I think writing will be the very least thing that I could ever give up and that I could ever get tired of. It’s like writing has been my way of expressing me out. Writing is like the air I breathe, the food I taste, the water that I consume; it’s like everything that I need in order to survive in this vast changing, absurd world.
When I get inside my room, after having a good cup of coffee and a good conversation with my grandparents, I immediately grabbed my planner and started writing random things on my mind. I must admit; it was relieving. Well, I am okay the whole day and night, but to be honest, nothing beats writing, to me. It was something therapeutic and it was something that I could hold on for forever.
I wrote about my feelings;
I wrote anything;
I wrote about my first love;
and I wrote about how bright the sky is up aboveTonight, I allowed writing to take over my life. I may be late for my presentation later, but I do not care about it — I will write and I will keep on writing to satisfy myself; to learn more about how it is that I live life now and to learn more about where I am at now.
Tonight, I have learnt that writing is not just an interest or a hobby; but it can be a way of life, too. If you get so attached to it and if you found a safe haven whenever you do it; do not stop yourself, as long as you learn and as long as you never get tired of it. But, who will ever get tired of writing, right? I mean, I will never get tired of it because it is something which you could have with you always and which would not judge you just because you have been doing some things wrongly.
Do not stop yourself
never let go of something
which makes you happy
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The dog was named Parrot. This was taken moments before Parrot was murdered by the cop. The cop drove his knee into the middle of Parrot’s back while stretching Parrot’s forelegs behind him, as one would do with an armed criminal. Without waiting to determine whether this technique would calm Parrot, the cop grabbed Parrot, lifted him off the ground, and brought him to the top of the concrete staircase. He threw Parrot over the banister, down twelve steps, and onto the concrete floor. Then, the cop stood at the top of the stairs, drew his weapon, and executed Parrot. Aaron, the animal’s owner, cannot recall the number of shots fired. Witnesses state that Parrot was not harming anybody and was simply frightened by the cop.
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