It's a bad day 💌🖤

... Not a bad Life 🧬🤍

Dearest gentle reader 🥀,

(Listen to pov by Strings from Paris for full effect 💝)

It's been quite a minute, but I won't apologize this time around — as I do think apologies change nothing when one isn't willing to put in the work to change. And alas, I can't promise not to pull another disappearing stunt like this. Howbeit, I promise to try my possible best not to let it consume me like it did this time...

It is rather astonishing that I was able to stay away this far when I do think of writing and oversharing as my entire personality. Not like I didn't do both — but it was from a very wistful stance, wishing to God I was able to string together enough lines to tell you what was going on... It just so happens that I had too much going on in my life at the same time, and for the first time in a while, I was — speechless.

You know, I've had so many bad days in the past month. Days when I woke up and wished I could just fade into obscurity — wherein I asked myself if it was all worth it. Those days somehow felt like I was a letter that got lost in the post — written to flourish but somehow got crumpled and never quite delivered.

Do you ever wake up and wish your life was a serenade? Where your only purpose is to live as fancifully as possible? Where there are no worries, no goals, no disappointment, no sadness, or heartaches? Where your only problems would be trying to see which ball gowns fit you, and if your royal attendees can get you ready fast enough to go about enjoying your day? Or do you wish for a place where all you do is pick a country and you appear there — fine dining, exquisite hotel rooms, and whatever opulence you can find is yours to enjoy?

Or are you more of a down-to-earth person who would rather be far away on a farmland, tilling the ground and going into the arms of a lover? I'd never understand you if you fall under the last category, because why in tarnation would you find that life enthralling?

Well, if you fall into the category of Realists — those who see every day as what it truly is and never wish for what isn't logically possible — then permit me a moment of candor: you do bore me so 🥱

You mean to tell me life in your lens is black and white? There's no burst of refreshing colors when you close your eyes, or start a movie, or even when you read a book? Astonishing. So you're saying you've never dreamt of a tryst? Or even hoped for one? Wow.

As fate would have it, I do not identify as one of them (thank the heavens). I have a strong yearning for the near-impossible — and sometimes, that can be the only anchor for me to go on. You see, I like to see myself as an effervescent person, as somehow I always manage to daydream and believe I’m Cinderella… but still in the stepmother chapters of my life.

Do you recall how, despite the ashes and torn seams of her world, Cinderella had the mice? The birds? Tiny fragments of comfort stitching her sanity together? As a child, I wanted to reach through the screen, pull her out, fix it all — until I realized something: the fairy godmother didn’t arrive until she wept and stood. Until she dared to want more.

Perhaps we missed that — that the very day her dreams were ripped from her hands was the day the story began. And isn’t that just life? The unraveling is never the end, merely the clearing of a stage. Time, love, resilience… they waltzed in after the ruin. As they always do. 🌪️

My dearest reader and friend, I’d like for you to identify the mice in your life, your dress that was torn, your stepmother and sisters — then weave. Weave every misfit, pandemonium, and unrelenting sorrow into a tale you'd enjoy. I strongly recommend you be as optimistic and open-spirited as possible. Because you never know...

My point is — you'd never know what's coming out of this whirlwind we call life. You'd never know what story you're trying to tell... We tend to forget we're the main character — and no matter how many times one is wounded in battle, the end is always delighting. 📖

I guess what I’m saying in essence is this — letters eventually find their way… even if creased.

Here’s my not-so-subtle reminder that it’s a bad day, not a bad life ❤️

Till we meet again, my darling 🥀

Sending you pieces of my heart 💜 one letter 💌 at a time 💋

A~A.