MysLykeMeeh

​ did you miss me? it’s been a while. how are you? i did miss you. i thought about coming back sooner—typed and deleted more times than i can count. i’d start a sentence and then just stare at it until it felt too honest or not honest enough, and i’d close the tab and tell myself, later. later kept moving. then it turned into weeks. months. and somehow, years. but here i am. but what am i doing here? i’m not sure i’m the same person. i’m not sure i’m different either. maybe that’s the clearest i’ve sounded in years. but is this another forgotten post? or is this a comeback post? hmm…not really. maybe that’s the point. i know i wasn’t a faithful blogger. i got carried away—by change, by life, by time. by people i met and fell into. and by someone who made me believe there really was a pot of gold at the end of every rainbow. but i had to pause communication, not because i wanted to, but because some seasons ask you to set certain things down for a while. this was one of ...

I just want to captured it on a clear, sky blue background. 

Love it. Love it. Love it. My drink gets tastier everyday.

To write or not to write, this is my endless question everyday as I travel with my life along with my thoughts. Blogging is a better way to unleash what's inside my mind. I don't know if I can call myself a writer. I read books and my mind is spinning what I need to write, but my hands and body wouldn't go along with my mind.  I really wanted to make my tardiness bleeds. I don't want to be lazy anymore. It makes me struggle to the point of blaming myself. Thus, insecurities takes place.  Procrastination is one thing. That is the hardest to avoid. I keep on telling myself that I would write later and it turned out to write none at all. There were many yesterdays wasted. The now attitude is a positive antidote to fight against my laziness . I have to make it as a goal. I confessed many times to the sky or to anything that writing is my passion but, once I am overloaded with reasons and excuses, I stop exploring what is beyond.    On the other hand, I would n...

May is here and it is a month when Cherry Blossoms started to show its beauty. It is known as Japanese Cherry  Hill Cherry ,  Oriental Cherry  or  East Asian Cherry. It is sometimes called "Sakura". Every year, many photo-journalist in Toronto would venture out and roam around in High Park at this time of  year to witness the blossoming wonders of the Cherry Blossoms. Yesterday, I went there equipped with my blissful camera. The weather was not that charming, but it doesn't mean that I could not take few pictures of the Cherry Blossoms. There were many people when I came, they were also taking photos and others were just sight seeing. Here are my few takes without photoshop. Heaven knows how I don't like photoshop, but sometimes as the person explored the world of photography, photoshop is expected. However, the pictures below aren't photoshop because I wanted to post it originally as it taken. As I said earlier, weather was not that cooperative, it must ha...

The clouds gathered, and the rain hummed its lullaby. It had been raining for days. Every raindrop soaked not the streets, but her heart. She dreamed of sunshine—of a blue sky stretching endlessly across the heavens. Lost in thought, she wondered why spring had brought only rain. She loved the scent of it filling her lungs, but she missed the warmth of sunlight flooding her face. Above her, the cloudy sky whispered in silence, its grayness heavy with a quiet urge to cry. Again, she had forgotten her umbrella. How many times had she been reprimanded? She looked up as the sky settled into its murky, dust-stained tone. Rain spilled from it, whooshing around her while the wind tried—and failed—to hush the chill. The cold rain knew no mercy. Water streamed down her face, yet a small, stubborn smile curved her lips. A silver car eased along the curve where she stood waiting. Without a word, he reached across from the driver’s seat and pushed the passenger door o...

It seems like centuries that I haven't write anything in particular. I miss writing poetry and weird stuff. My tiny brain couldn't grasp any words that need to be understood. I have a bad feeling that my writing skill is limited compared to those who write regularly. I don't know if I can convince someone about my ability, if I still have it. Pray that my brain would function,  not technically but at least, normally. I would not recommend procrastination as an option to stop writing. Though, it's not my reason why I shut off my blog temporarily. . Actually, the major reason why I stop writing for some time was that "I was lazy, too lazy as a matter of fact.  Very lazy to start anything and so lazy to think about someting. If laziness will strike at the door in your thought process, it becomes an enduring battle and struggle. Why Shakespear didn't spare any of his audience admiration? He has a lot of stamina, determination,  confidence and of course inborn poe...

"Let the world wonder how awesome it is to be a flower captured by the beauty of your smiling petals"

Girl meets boy. The girl and the boy went on dates. From first, second and so on, then steady dating. The girl fall in love with his green eyes and everything. Vice versa. The boy did not know any reason why he loved the girl. He said, it just came. No butterflies but there was a feeling of love inside. Few months after, the boy went to the jewelry store and bought a ring, 24 carats diamond. He knelled down in front of the girl surrounded by many friends and he asked her to marry him. The girl said, "yes..." with her widest smile that reached the road to Monte Carlo. She was stunned, surprised and marked her calendar as the happiest moment in her life. She was very happy everyday,  wearing her content smiles. She planned for her wedding.  She contacted the best wedding coordinator in town. Expensive, you say? Yes, posh. She chose her perfect wedding gown. White shoes. And, everything. The boy did handle the budget. If the girl asked for anything, he was responsible enough to...

Why on earth it's very important? And, why the dentist always remind their patient to do it regularly? Check-up, cleaning, brushing, flossing and etc. Heck, one of the countless reason why you need to listen to your dentist is that...going to a dentist once you know that your teeth need a whole repair would cost you to swipe your credit card or might make your paycheck disappeared in just one go. Yeah, people- it's bloody expensive. Especially in Canada, dentists will gain a lot of income by just for one patient. Imagine if you have a hole that needs to fill, it cost you a hundred plus bucks or more. Depends on the area and the result of the x-ray. "Recently, I went to a dentist to have my whole teeth examined and oh-my-holy-teeth, the cost made my teeth broken into pieces. Okay, no kidding but what I mean was, it made my wallet lost its value. The fault was mine though, I never thought that flossing is very important ."  How to maintain healthy teeth and gums...

A woman without a purpose is like a tempestuous wind-- sometimes passionate, oftentimes uncontrolled, without knowing the limit. There are times that she becomes wild, which leads her to become impulsive, violent, and hysterical about the decisions in life. But, a woman of purpose is someone who can calm a tempestuous wind. She knows when to become passionate and when to draw her lines. She knows how to balance her decision without hurting the other. What drives her life? Hope, faith and love. A woman of purpose lives: She lives not in the past. S he understand guilt but she's not living by guilt. She can feel the anger but not living through it. Fear is natural for her but it's not her reason to stop. She aims life through God's wisdom than the world can offer. She doesn't need people's approval or what people may say. She follows good lead and she know her way through it. She stan...

Testing.... 1... 2.... 3.... Oopps... I some kinda of here :        Ciao!

Yesterday, while watching a little girl in a pink bonnet and pink mittens, her soft- creamy scarf knotted neatly on her neck, with her hands gripping the chain attach to the swing, swung freely and cheerfully--- I saw her smiles, her small-uneven teeth and her unexplained happiness- how pure were her smiles, her deepest blue eyes admiring every pushed her mother made. Pure laughter. Little giggles. Pure child. Pure heart. Admiring the view and listening to her sweet laughter, my eyes were glued not on the child alone. My mind wanders through the swing, it was coming back and forth. Back and forth. The squeaking of metal, the rattling of the chains. The sounds. The snowflakes. And, the winds. Did she mind at all? She didn’t noticed. Careless. Carefree. And, happy. How I thought? How I wonder? Like the child and the swing, it described its meaning. Like me and the time. I was swinging through time, catching all the events of my life, watching the snow coming and going, wishin...

Do I need to say something? When these pictures tell all?

The first time I set my eyes on him, I thought it was love at first sight . Geez. Geez… that’s what I thought. Ah, well—who wouldn’t? Hot. Gorgeous. Oh, crap—those tantalizing eyes that took my breath away. And lips that could launch a thousand sighs ( tsek, tsek! ). Butterflies in my stomach flipping inside and out. My heart beating like a tambourine ( tsug! tsug! ). And I couldn’t take my eyes off him. What was wrong with me? Here’s the thing about Italians—they know they’re at the top of the “most attractive people on earth” list. According to what study? Oh, you know… the highly scientific “Who’s the Most Good-Looking, Gorgeous, Hot Specimen on Earth” study. In Eat, Pray, Love , Elizabeth Gilbert described Italians as “devilishly attractive, cruelly handsome, and surprisingly muscular.” And yes—I wholeheartedly admit that I was once a victim of such a cruelly handsome Italian guy. Too cool to be real, as a matter of fact. But yeah. I was. And yes—too bad. Y...

Alarm clock sounded. Too loud. Yawned. Still, sleepy. Stretched arms. Yawned. Went back to bed. Wishing for more sleep. Sleep. Snore.Slumber. Drifted. It alarmed again for five times. Earsplitting. Hit the button. Yawned. Sat on bed. Time to go. *Sigh* Monday blues. or Winter/Snow blues or Manic Mondays. A cup of coffee would make me feel good. Thanks goodness for the guy who invented the coffee. Image source: NettLegg's Digital Photo

Your presence in this world is not by accidents You were born through love without regrets; Your mom and your dad were happy when you came, Your existence is a gift without dread or shame. Never, ever forget about your real qualities, You are a unique person with special characteristics; Nobody can compare your complete uniqueness; you're one of a kind, far more - no less. Never, ever forget that you can be what you want to be, Your life is a blessing as you choose your way; Don’t forget to dream as far as you can be, Reach for your dream no matter what blocks your way. Reach for your goals, dream for the stars Whichever ways, it’s who you are; Expect troubles as you go on towards your journey; But, whatever happens, don’t ever give up Whatever it takes, always look up above; The sky is there as a source of inspiration; When there’s a problem, there’s always solution. Take time to pray and things will be easy for you Take a deep breath and the world will sm...

Last night, I was up too late. My brain won't make me sleep. My eyes kept on glaring and staring at the walls. I tried to close it but my brain snapped it open. I reclined on my bed while my back leaning on the yellow paint wall and grabbed my laptop. I kept signing in and signing out. What was the used? I turned it off. Darkness invades. I switched on my night lamp to give me enough light. Midnight came. I went back to bed; hoping and wishing that sleep will claim me and sent me to nothingness. I knew that snowflakes kept on falling on my window pane. Turned. Flipped to one side. Then, the other side. I heard my heater's sound. I heard my brain talking, conversing the other side of my brain.  I closed my eyes, but my brain kept on saying something which I could n't grasped the words. Turning to one side, I kicked my blanket away. I hid my face on my pillow and controlled my breathing. Breathe. In. Out. Inhale. Exhale. I was thinking about the blue skies and th...

Surely I am sane, Heck...I am not insane! It's just these voices in my head, screaming and yelling to freed; begging and pleading for release, trying to bail out from my brain cell cracking and breaking in my neurotic shell. Sometimes I don't even understand how I formed those ferocious words? I asked myself, "What's the purpose"? Those words were stuck but when it flows- really craps! Sometimes, it's encouraging- oftentimes, it's boring; hundred times, it's sucks! Like I couldn't retract, inhale and exhale truly helps, closing my eyes not to creep; but these words are like a mower ready to mow the owner--! These voices in my head, it bled and pleads- probing and mocking piercing inside my head. it's some kinda of it lurks in me deep in the nether regions of my soul, down to mid-central of my core i tried to to stop it, i ended up stupid; I wriggled to make a trap, Even battled to lock it up-! But, my passions for writing is never ending- It...