I made a mistake.
And I was generously forgiven.
May I never forget this.
I really need to recover, improve...
step up...


Meow... like always, you're right.

I bought this plant with high hopes and aspirations.
Water it, fertilize it, even talked to it.
I even named it 'Elizabeth'.

But it died.
The branches just fell.
I scrutinized the branches.
It had worms.

My Elizabeth...
*sniff...
What did I do wrong? or didn't do enough?

I've always been the odd one.
The strange, weird one.

...yup, I'm that one....

On two isolated occasions,I received very constructive criticism from two very qualified(they were there thick and thin) old friends.
Out of genuine concern, they took time to make the points clear to me.
I've been digesting them since then.

Thank you friends.
I pray that your efforts will not go in vain.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8:

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
A time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
a time to rend, and a time to sew;
A time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
a time to love, and a time to hate;
A time of war and a time of peace.

I was feeling really lousy today.
Asking myself really self-pity questions like,

“What am I doing here?”
“Am I really made for this?”
“Maybe I will be more productive doing something else?”
I let my imagination take its wildest course and I saw myself doing administrative work.
‘Well, at least I have scheduled working hours’
I even saw myself positioned in a bookstore.
‘Well, I will definitely benefit the customers there.’

I was looking at the same page of work for hours.
I even took time off to chat via msn.
“maybe you have a writer’s block,” she consoled.

I typed the last word and click print.
I couldn’t even bear rereading it again.
Passed it to boss.

Minutes later, I heard his shouting.
“Oh uh. Time to pay my dues,” I thought.

“This is what I call creative writing!”

I’m smiling.
Maybe this is…