Promises (Sort Of)
This 2014, I decided not to make another one of my Bucket List – or my lame attempt at resolutions. Because, really, that shit just didn’t work with me. My so-called “resolutions with a twist” was just my excuse to watch movies, buy books and shoes, and fangirl over awesome human beings. This year, instead of listing down the things I’d want to achieve, I will lay down some promises that I hope would lead somewhere.
And yes, I know promises are meant to be broken – but what the fuck.
This 2014, I promise to be patient with people that get on my nerves. On the last quarter of 2013, I’ve come to the conclusion that I hate people in general. I hate socializing with and befriending people that have attitudes I cannot handle. I don’t like faking things just to be nice to them. I don’t like being nice to people I don’t even regard as my friend. So instead of hating people right away, I promise to be more patient. I promise to not kill them for being brats and irresponsible. I promise to not expect too much from them so I wouldn’t be very disappointed with the possible shortcomings. I promise to trust them wholeheartedly (no, no, no) and let them fly free. (Gosh, this should be replaced with “This 2014, I promise to be less bitchy.”)
I promise to be more creative. I promise to find time to write and/or blog more, to express my feelings and opinions in a creative manner. I promise to take more pictures and preserve more memories with the people that matter. I will try my hardest to find inspiration in everything I do, and use that inspiration to inspire others also. I promise to fill this
Tumblr blog with only beautiful things. I promise to find time to just lie down and soak up the eternal beauty life can give.
I promise to expand my ideas and my listening habits. That sounded wrong, didn’t it? Again: I promise to read more and listen to more music. Sounds a lot better. This year I aimed at reading 25 books, but I’m actually hoping to reach fifty. So far, it isn’t looking good. I also promise to widen the range of music I listen to. I promise to not judge artists and their music right away because of how greasy/gothic/scary they look and of how atrocious their album cover appears. I will give them a chance, I swear on John Lennon’s grave.
I promise to take things lighter – but not the easy-go-lucky way. Taking things easy is not for me, but I guess taking things
lighter will work. I tend to overthink a lot, and I’m sure as hell I will live the rest of my life overthinking. But this year, with the help of some unknown force, I will try to not stress too much and enjoy working every second (without too much procrastination). I know it will be painful, but gosh, I can’t eat stress for breakfast anymore – it is bad for digestion.
I promise to welcome all the feels in my system. I promise to not deny my feelings for a person. But this is not to say that I’d declare to the world my love, with neon signs flashing everywhere. No. My 2014 started with me finally admitting that I’m in love, but I haven’t (I
couldn’t) actually admitted that to the person I’m in love with. But this year I promise to love and hope to be loved back. Reciprocating feelings is a hard and a complicated process, but as what I’ve learned from reading too much, the pain from loving will only make us smarter in taking second chances and developing love to its full potential. (I actually just made that up.) I hope this would be the year that I won’t be so fucking scared of admitting feelings and its outcomes anymore. But really, though, I’m
excessively scared of getting hurt – it’s so pathetic.
This 2014, I decided to stop making monthly nutshells. Just like my Bucket List, my Nutshells didn’t work with me. It was just (again) my excuse to write my shitty book reviews and to list the songs that gave me eargasm. I couldn’t keep up with writing monthly wrap ups. Those nutshells (and nutcases) made me feel like blogging was an obligation rather than a creative outlet. I’m sorry, my dear Nutshell. It was a good eighteen months, but it wasn’t just you and it wasn’t just me – it was the
both of us. Adios.
This year, I promise to be a better person. I promise to be good to myself because I know that the universe wants me to be happy. I’m not entirely sure how I’d do it, but you know, I’d just find my way someday. Preferably within this year.
Cause there’s gotta be something out there. If I fly high enough, I’ll find it somewhere. So I’ll hold my breath till I float away. Maybe I’ll come down someday.
The Summer Set, Someday (Legendary, 2013)
← older / top / newer →
a woeful & chaotic diary since 071409
Promises (Sort Of)
This 2014, I decided not to make another one of my Bucket List – or my lame attempt at resolutions. Because, really, that shit just didn’t work with me. My so-called “resolutions with a twist” was just my excuse to watch movies, buy books and shoes, and fangirl over awesome human beings. This year, instead of listing down the things I’d want to achieve, I will lay down some promises that I hope would lead somewhere.
And yes, I know promises are meant to be broken – but what the fuck.
This 2014, I promise to be patient with people that get on my nerves. On the last quarter of 2013, I’ve come to the conclusion that I hate people in general. I hate socializing with and befriending people that have attitudes I cannot handle. I don’t like faking things just to be nice to them. I don’t like being nice to people I don’t even regard as my friend. So instead of hating people right away, I promise to be more patient. I promise to not kill them for being brats and irresponsible. I promise to not expect too much from them so I wouldn’t be very disappointed with the possible shortcomings. I promise to trust them wholeheartedly (no, no, no) and let them fly free. (Gosh, this should be replaced with “This 2014, I promise to be less bitchy.”)
I promise to be more creative. I promise to find time to write and/or blog more, to express my feelings and opinions in a creative manner. I promise to take more pictures and preserve more memories with the people that matter. I will try my hardest to find inspiration in everything I do, and use that inspiration to inspire others also. I promise to fill this
Tumblr blog with only beautiful things. I promise to find time to just lie down and soak up the eternal beauty life can give.
I promise to expand my ideas and my listening habits. That sounded wrong, didn’t it? Again: I promise to read more and listen to more music. Sounds a lot better. This year I aimed at reading 25 books, but I’m actually hoping to reach fifty. So far, it isn’t looking good. I also promise to widen the range of music I listen to. I promise to not judge artists and their music right away because of how greasy/gothic/scary they look and of how atrocious their album cover appears. I will give them a chance, I swear on John Lennon’s grave.
I promise to take things lighter – but not the easy-go-lucky way. Taking things easy is not for me, but I guess taking things
lighter will work. I tend to overthink a lot, and I’m sure as hell I will live the rest of my life overthinking. But this year, with the help of some unknown force, I will try to not stress too much and enjoy working every second (without too much procrastination). I know it will be painful, but gosh, I can’t eat stress for breakfast anymore – it is bad for digestion.
I promise to welcome all the feels in my system. I promise to not deny my feelings for a person. But this is not to say that I’d declare to the world my love, with neon signs flashing everywhere. No. My 2014 started with me finally admitting that I’m in love, but I haven’t (I
couldn’t) actually admitted that to the person I’m in love with. But this year I promise to love and hope to be loved back. Reciprocating feelings is a hard and a complicated process, but as what I’ve learned from reading too much, the pain from loving will only make us smarter in taking second chances and developing love to its full potential. (I actually just made that up.) I hope this would be the year that I won’t be so fucking scared of admitting feelings and its outcomes anymore. But really, though, I’m
excessively scared of getting hurt – it’s so pathetic.
This 2014, I decided to stop making monthly nutshells. Just like my Bucket List, my Nutshells didn’t work with me. It was just (again) my excuse to write my shitty book reviews and to list the songs that gave me eargasm. I couldn’t keep up with writing monthly wrap ups. Those nutshells (and nutcases) made me feel like blogging was an obligation rather than a creative outlet. I’m sorry, my dear Nutshell. It was a good eighteen months, but it wasn’t just you and it wasn’t just me – it was the
both of us. Adios.
This year, I promise to be a better person. I promise to be good to myself because I know that the universe wants me to be happy. I’m not entirely sure how I’d do it, but you know, I’d just find my way someday. Preferably within this year.
Cause there’s gotta be something out there. If I fly high enough, I’ll find it somewhere. So I’ll hold my breath till I float away. Maybe I’ll come down someday.
The Summer Set, Someday (Legendary, 2013)
← older / top / newer →
a woeful & chaotic diary since 071409
Profile
Already several months had passed, and I am missing
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry more and more each fleeting day. There are just some things in life that we can never forget – especially that something that had given us knowledge, skills, strong relationships and a second home. I am glad that everything in the magical world is now at peace, since Voldemort (yes, I can now say his name; no need to be afraid) had died. I had secretly admired Tom Marvolo Riddle (Voldemort’s birth name) though, because of his intelligence, passion and love for magic. Wasn’t he very clever to think of and conjure his seven
Horcruxes to preserve his life, or form a clan of
Death Eaters who were very loyal to him and would give up their lives just for him to succeed? Not everybody can acquire that much loyalty from people these days. I do not, however, admire him for the way he had carried out all of his plans. He had a good agenda, his means just weren’t morally right. But he still is one of the darkest wizards of all time… and let’s leave it that way.
Oh, for all those who are baffled of what I’m saying here and who the heck I am, my name is
Christine Faye Ordas, and I am an alumnus of Hogwarts. I came from the bronze-and-blue-clad house of the smart ass witch Rowena Ravenclaw and her dictum
“Wit beyond measure is a man’s greatest treasure.” And yes, I know the wonderful Luna Lovegood (she’s such a darling) and Harry Potter’s first crush Cho Chang. I had just left Hogwarts last May. Right now I am trying to pursue a career in magical researches, literature and writing. It’s my dream to inscribe intellectual books, publish and sell them in
Flourish and Blotts for the future Hogwarts students’ use. I am also planning to credibly write for the
Daily Prophet, the magical world’s primary news bulletin. And of course, I will be very much honored to contribute to Mr. Xenophilius Lovegood’s
Quibbler (hence, my interest in magical researches). I have always found the Lovegoods a fascinating family, and I bet working with and for them will be very exciting. Or maybe, in Merlin’s beard’s time, I can write legends and bedtime stories like the famous – and wickedly brilliant – Beedle the Bard.
And that’s how my life goes these days. I am utterly missing my old school, my friends, the Great Hall, the bronze eagle knocker just outside the Ravenclaw common room, Professor Flitwick (the head of our house), Hogsmeade, the Quidditch matches (although I didn’t actually play for the house), the moving portraits, the castle ghosts, the pumpkins on Halloween, the giant pine trees on Christmas, Rubeus Hagrid’s (Hogwarts’ gamekeeper) tea and treacle fudge – even the crabby Argus Filch (Hogwarts’ caretaker) I miss. Maybe I can visit the school grounds sometimes and see how the magical world’s been doing since Voldemort died (I’ve been spending my months in the muggle world, you see). I’ve heard everybody’s been moving on and starting all over again; the ministry is back on work under Kingsley Shacklebolt; and Harry Potter’s scar haven’t been disturbing him since.
All is well, indeed.
And because of that, we should celebrate and drink firewhisky! Oh, I still don’t drink firewhisky; I can take butterbeer or tea or pumpkin juice – just not firewhisky, please.
Accounts
FACEBOOK
TWITTER
INSTAGRAM
GOODREADS
