I am writing this post because 1.) it’s a Leap Day and 2.) I wonder how my life is different four years after. It’s like the tiny bit of gingerbread you leave on the ground as a mark to make sure you’re not going in circles. So, I guess, four years from now, I’d be back to this post with hopes that I’ve gotten far.
Please let me go far.
So far, this year, I’ve started to plant things. The seeds I’ve stuck inside recycled paper cups and covered with clumps of soil started growing. I didn’t know it’s such a joy to see tiny sprouts of my potential orange tree (or calamansi, I both enjoy them, anyway) and wish they’d grow into green, Groot-y teenagers. There’s hope for me, a dormant human with little sunshine and little water (I know, we should keep ourselves hydrated) to grow.
What this February actually was:
I don't know why but February feels like a sad, long vacation— Caris Cruz (@hellocaris) February 28, 2020
That, above, is not an encouraging way to describe a month, but wait ’till I tell you what happened to our lives, in general:
February 2020, a summary: sudden loves and sudden deaths— Caris Cruz (@hellocaris) February 25, 2020
It’s like having all the switches of your heart turn on one moment, and turn off the next. We send our love to Kuya Radie, to ate Wilma de Lauro, to all of our loved ones who went before us in unexpected, most heartbreaking times. And we congratulate those who find their loves, with a few extras *wink, and I hope all those who are seeking find theirs.
It is, I must say, never a good idea to imagine a story with Alexandre Desplat’s genius in the background because it. Will. Go. Wild. I’m still reeling from things after plotting (yes, folks, I am a plotter, not a pantster) the other half of my manuscript, which I hope to finish Draft 1 this year. With a good musical resource, I suppose. As for the first half, I am crossing my fingers as I dip into Queryland again.
Things I am already keeping in mind: processed food aren’t healthy, moar broccoli and cheese, and pudgy arms are not for me, so I better keep them in shape.
In the next four years, I wish to: have my own book in my own hands, get lots of money to keep my parents secure, and God, a Takumi Saito, not necessarily him, but I can stare at this person’s face forever and not get tired of his sincere aura. Aura, I had to repeat.
I’m pretty sure God loves surprises, and I’m all about that, so I am leaving the rest of my bucketlist with these small wants and hope (and move) that they might come true in their own perfect time. Here’s to a jump, and most desirably, a big leap. Onwards!
PS: I know these are small, stupid wishes, but this is the blog of a small, stupid girl, and that’s all there is. x