Baptism of 'Matt From Here On Out'

Well, since this is the first ever blog post I've done, I've thought of making it special in such a way that it'll be remembered as "the first one". So, I hereby baptize this blog as titled "Matt From Here On Out". It is so-called because, first, my name is Matt. Second, I've created it to write about the matters of my life from this day forward.

So, fellas (if there is actually any), here is 'Matt From Here On Out'!

Sometimes, You Just Have to Try to Let Go

I'm supposed to be talking about something else like how I'm irritated with Mac's Yahoo! Messenger's lack of a Group Messaging feature, or if it's just my ignorance. Or, I'm supposed to pen into poetry a wonderful thought that sparked in my head. But instead of doing those things that I "should have" done, I ended up writing my two previous blogs. What's happening?

But, maybe sometimes you just have to try to really let things go, even if they seem really good to do. Those feel-gooders can be the reason for you to be stressed. It can also not be good on you.

This moment makes me remember the times when I was writing for my personal blogs, that usually my dad asks me what I'm doing on the computer. It's because I usually write during late hours. I also remember how I couldn't answer directly that "I'm writing to my blogs" because of the feeling of it being a 'personal' matter to not talk about or detail on it. Now I feel like I understand why he asks me like that. He's just helping me from being too compulsive and too attached at something.

Should I have insisted on continuing to write down the thought that I had into poetry, I'd have been more compulsive. Or, if I kept on going with being pissed off at Mac's Yahoo! Messenger not having the Group Message feature, I'll be keeping on looking for the solution on the net if there really is such a feature and stay up all night, or be frustrated for proving myself right that it actually doesn't have that feat.

I should learn how to control my urges and my desires. Not all things that seem wonderful to me should be done right away, and in some instances, not done at all. Right now, I can only wish that I can be able to stick up to the words that I am saying. Because I feel that I still haven't done so.

How the Atmosphere Affects Us

Atmosphere, environment, and situations really affect the way you think and how you do the things that you love doing. That is what I've observed tonight.

I've been really pressured to put up something new on my personal blog recently. I just can't seem to "squeeze" out any fresh idea or something really original and not scripted. Scripted in such a way that I'm not just writing for the blogs to make me feel okay because there's a new post. It'll only be for the short term, if I do that. Because, posts that do not have a real connection with me are just like fillers. Like fake smiles that do not last. Like add-ons that you immediately forget after buying.

I've been through an upstair-downstair robot craze tonight and it really stresses me out. Technically, because I've just been through an accident and I've broken three of my left foot's weight-bearing bones. It's still not easy for me to go up and downstairs. I can only think to myself that they feel the way I feel being "pushed" around for some insensitive unimportant orders. It was really driving me to the brim of my humanly limits.

I went upstairs, after going through a stressful upstair-downstair errand mania, and some silent, serious thinking about a lot of things. I do think a lot -- I actually tend to think deviously -- when I feel really stressed out. Well now, I'm lucky enough to have a moment of peace and reflection. In fact, really fortunate to have the chance to bypass my fears of doing something and needing to do it out of fear. I'm talking about being able to express myself right now genuinely.

Things are much different now than it was maybe an hour ago or a few more. It's been long since I've stayed where I am right now -- alone in my converted-room-slash-bed, and silently & peacefully conversing with myself in a preserving way. I'm using the word 'preserve' because that is the way I treat The Day Writer. I treat it as a memorial of who I am throughout my ages.

I can only compare how the world I was in a few hours ago is a lot different than the isolated, protected incubator that I am in now. From there, I think I have decoded the reason behind my painful separation and break from being with my space, these sheets of intangible paper that I'm writing on.

Proof that I'm Really Feeling Compulsive Tonight

Tonight, I'm feeling compulsive. I've been feeling really stressed out too. Argh! Work responsibilities (yeah, I still haven't "officially" withdrawn from my work -- not 'til Friday), ERRANDS (yeah, in big LETTERS cos they're not just your simple run-to-the-nearest-store-and-get-me-this-and-that errands, but HEAD-PULSATING ones!!!), social pressure (well, it includes some family-related thoughts that I have -- some normal phenomena, don't worry), and some that I might even have forgotten to mention. BUT, (yeah, but), I'm glad that right now, I'm in front of the keyboards (and of course, the screen) tapping into words, words that at the very least soothe me, give me rest, and help me "breathe" again.

I've been wanting to write something new. It's sort of a compulsion (just proves how compulsive I'm being today) for me to think that I NEED to blog. It's because I feel like I've paused too long and have not done a lot of blogs, that I NEED to do something about it, and that I NEED to put something on my personal blog (something written, of course). And, the feeling of me compulsed to do it makes me feel like it's something unreal and not genuine, that if I do write something, I'm gonna ruin the honesty of my blog, the genuineness, and the heart that I've sown in it.

If you look at it as a whole, I'm sort of cornered by two really pressing sides:

1. Me writing blogs to salvage my forgotten and desolate blogs... but risk its integrity because I'm only doing it for the sake of "putting something in it"...

or

2. "Wait" for the magical "spark" or the "magical moment" that some heavenly inspiration befall me, and I enchantingly write something wonderful, true, me, honest, and blog-worthy. Yet, that "waiting" remains the same -- still an act of waiting. And, in the end, nothing happens. The blogs are still empty. They are left there with flies hovering over them. They have no freshness in them. That Time has passed them by, and the wonderful changes that has happened in the real world and my life has had them left behind.

It's saddening. I feel so emotional and sentimental to think of it right now. Enough to jerk a tear out of my eyes and unto my cheeks. Well, I'm making it more dramatic than it actually is. But, that's how it really is when you write -- you squeeze out the emotions inside of you. The creativity that can be extracted from the world around you. The neon colors that surround you. Isn't that right? It just adds up to the beauty of the world that's bigger and more unimaginable than what we step and breathe on.

Well, at least now I can say that I'm finally able to get through compulsion, and let them all out. It must be just a result of all the stresses that caused me to inhibit some of the things in me, even without me knowing it. Is that even possible? Well, I guess it is.

By the way. I've entitled this blog as the "proof that I'm really feeling compulsive tonight". You might ask why it is so because you might not see anything so compulsive anywhere this blog post aside from me talking about compulsiveness. Or, maybe not... Hahaha! (laughs) Actually, I really do. I'm supposed to be sleeping tonight, but I just can't because I don't feel like sleeping. Somehow, me worrying about the blogs just keeps me from sleeping right. That's also why I'm here right now and writing this. Oh COMPULSION. Compulsion indeed!

Suicide Decisions

I'm not an economist, but I'll talk somewhat economics right now. What I have in mind as for the moment is how some "big" decisions can greatly affect an entity. How it can fulfill all the original planned benefits, or how it can bring about unseen destruction.

For one, Crocs, a great brand in the world of flip-flops, offers an "indestructible" pair of slippers. Once you buy a pair, you'll probably never need any replacement, unless you lose them maybe. They have a good history and story of a booming success. Today, however, they're stuck in a very messy situation that calls itself "doom".

Because Crocs gained worldwide popularity due to its success in the U.S., they decided to expand their operations, creating lots of factories in Asia, particularly in China as I remember. More factories led to an increase in production. This plan sounded really fine for their growth. They started just this mid-2000, and there's still more to come and add to their beginnings.

Last year 2008, however, saw a very unexpected turn in the history of the world. A great downfall met the economy of America. The economic crisis did not affect just one nation, but it affected the globe. The scars of this meltdown can still be seen up to this year. This is also the reason why Crocs is, as economic experts say, already over though still existing.

There are decisions that even the greatest labels make only to lead them to the pit. A small turn can lead to a great tumble. It makes me wonder if it's luck that dictates the fortunes of companies in particular.

There are some companies that do not offer the greatest quality of product, yet they succeed. Some offer the best, but commit suicide with their decisions. Though I'd like to think that this is not the destiny of all that do good, I just can't help but notice how it happens. Quality should always be mixed with meeting the needs and the eye of the people. A good product is nonsense if it doesn't sell. Or does it?

For now, I can only wish that things (some particular ones) were as they were before. I can't enjoy my Multiply.com account anymore because of the new design. It got complicated. I can only join the bandwagon of people complaining about the new design, although I liked it before. It's because I can only notice how my usage has dropped ever since the new design and functions.

Just a thought to ponder on.

I'm Ending My First Ever Job

I'm supposed to write about quitting my first job, but I think my thoughts have expired. I've thought about it maybe two hours ago, and the idea just does not seem as fresh anymore. Plus, the thought of the night clock ticking, and the time getting more and more late approaching morning is eating me up. Oh, there's pressure pushing me "not to write" about what I originally was thinking to write.

Well I guess talking about all the hindrances in doing what I wanted to do helped. It's sort of me putting away and facing my problems. Now, I think, I can finally start talking about my experience in ending my first job.

Last June 2009 was the start of my first ever job. My work is simple: I write about at least 5 celebrity blogs containing the latest news about specific celebrities, and maintain them. Ideally, I should work 2 hours a day, 5 days a week. I have a cap of 10-hours a week. It means I cannot exceed working for more than 10-hours and get paid for it. Extra work done won't get you any credit except in extremely special cases.

My first shot at this job was fine. The rate was also okay: about a dollar and half per hour. Not bad, to think that the rate for amateur freelance tutors, one of my college dream-jobs, is around that rate too.

When I started writing my first contents, I was still trying to get a feel of what I was doing. It wasn't smooth, but after doing some work, I started doing great, at least according to how I see it. Now, I can only be thankful for having the experience of having a job, working for it, and "what's actually in a job". You'll get to know work ethic, responsibility, commitment, quality of work, and relationships. I'm lucky I've gained those things in my first job.

Things are good, but they aren't perfect though. It is so as I am about to end my first job. It's not the easiest experience to end a job. I don't know for others, but this is my case. I think I'm having a hard time with letting go. It sort of gives me a scary or fearful feeling that I'm gonna be worthless, or I'll hurt the boss whom I'll leave, or that I'm responsible for the loss of the job that I'm to leave. I'm THAT compensating.

Tonight, however, when I've thought of it, I think I'm done. I'm not talking about the job alone. I'm talking about all those stuff in my mind that hold me back and paralyze me. People come and go. Flowers flourish, and dry up. Stars get fame, and become forgotten. What's the difference? The important thing to learn, however, is to not hold-on too tightly to what the moment offers, because moments fly. Appreciate them when they're there, but learn how to move on, whenever appropriate, and embrace change.

In ending my first job, I feel like a needle's been removed from my body. Like the Filipino saying goes, I feel like "nabunutan ako ng tinik sa lalamunan". I now understand what that phrase really means. Hahaha! Finally, I'm free of the responsibility of "earning". I'm a free man again. I feel like a child again. I'm new, as ever and always. I'm in bliss!

Finally, I can sleep!

I'm More of A Reader Than A Writer for Now

I've found some content that I find appealing and interesting. I think I'll be a reader now than a writer. I like what I'm seeing. I'm not putting an end to writing, though. I'm only waiting for a rebirth. I want to be like a sponge and absorb everything I can, grow in it, and burst in full bloom when all these happen.

My current reading interests are:

- Travels
- Classic stories and art designs
- Nature

It's good that I'm into reading now. I'm not much of a reader before. During my childhood days, I was into art, drawing, cartoons, anime, and computer games. On my teenage years, I was solely into music, less drawings, more of writing comic books and fancy news items, jokes, but never reading. Then come college, I moved on to writing my own reflections, poetry, and other content. Now, having left being a teenager and into the 20's, I guess I've finally come to a point of appreciating the work of others. I've become more humble, humble enough to give credit to others than myself.

I've learned this one thing today when I've read the work of others: you can never flourish by yourself. It is diversity and harmony that gives way to newness, innovation, and new birth.

Blog-Babying

You know what, I've had quite a long break from writing personal blogs. I'm trying to find out the reason why, but tonight, I can only go down on pointing one reason. Just to clarify, though, I'm not saying that it's the only reason. I believe that there are a lot more reasons behind me not writing, and losing the "feel" or the "urge" to write any more passionate than I do before.

The first reason I tried blogging out was when it was still probably the year 2007, February, when I was really wondering what blogs are. Sure, I have an idea of what it is, but being a skeptical person, I puke out what I know, do not believe them, and only really grasp what they mean when I get a first-hand relevant experience of them.

I was also starting to collect and compose short text-message verses, and quotes. Some of those, I've turned into nice short poems. That's when I officially started writing poems, and really delved into poetry. It was a nice start.

February 2007 also marked the start of us having our first-ever decent DSL connection. That was a time when Broadband internet connection started making its way into Philippine mainstream, beginning to eradicate dial-up connections. It was really timely as I've just created my first-ever blog while in school, a few days ago before the official internet connection is set-up.

At my first shot at writing the blogs, my main activity revolved around transferring compositions (poetry, quotes, sayings, thoughts) that I've saved in my mobile phone. Back then, it was my handy and ever-present "diary", whenever the computer and the keyboards to write with were not available.

Things got better and my writing "skills", if there is such a thing, improved. I moved forward to writing directly to the blogs. I composed poems right on the spot, mainly focusing on the idea of love for the initial blog posts. Some, about fear, about principles, about youth, life, and other relevant things to me back then (very teenage-like).

Today, I'm suffering from "loss-of-fresh-content" syndrome. Hahaha. I can't even write anything new to my blogs. I feel like it's a commitment that I do not know of anymore. It's like a lost love, or a too familiar part of you that it doesn't matter anymore whether it's there or not, in a good or bad situation.

Two years after creating a blog, I've created this particular online fancy journal account called "plurk". It's some sort of short-journal writing site that allows your friends to view your "status" or read the thoughts that you wrote for them to see. It's fun to use and quite different because your thoughts are shared on the mainstream. At some point, though really short, I think I've become addicted to it.

The main difference between "plurk" and blogging is that blogging is more personal. It's more introspective and reflective. It's more "permanent". Plurking or "plurks" can be tracked back all the way from the start, but it's not really meant for that. It's something like thing of the moment, and it's made for that. It's basically an "update" material.

I love the personal touch of blogs. Though right now, I can't fully appreciate it yet, I believe that my attachment to it, although none is really required by anything or anyone, will be for the long-term, say eternal.

Blogs should be "babied". They should be given extreme personal care. They should be trusted, watched-over carefully, and committed time to. Without those things, they're without life. I hope to baby my blog. I hope to revive my connection to it. To do that, I have to find my reason, and the hidden exceptional purpose in it. Maybe then, I'll have known what to do, and how to do it.

Does Love and Fear Mix?

Does love and fear mix? That is the biggest question on my mind tonight. Although, I have a strong feeling that I have the correct answers in my pocket, I still cared to search on for answers to my heart's cry.

Oftentimes, I think of other people committing mistakes. I am the type of person who thinks that we all are vulnerable to temptation, committing mistakes, and hurting (and being hurt with that). I only think that there is a little exception to these flaws.

There is an infinite amount of dangers in the world, I admit I believe. For the world for me is like a tamed jungle who, when your eyes have blinked too long, will bite. It is not the first time that I have experienced worrying about something miserable to happen. Tonight's not one to escape from it. But, tonight, I want to end it.

Tonight, quite strangely, I had this wish that there be a Bible search engine. If there's one, oh what joy and truth there is at the reach of my fingertips. Well, what I did in an attempt to extinguish the shout of fear trying to subdue me is, I looked over on Google with the phrase "does love and fear mix?".

I strongly believe in love and it's power to patch brokenness and strife. I have seen it work in my life and in others close to me. I see it everywhere I look; in the television, in the lives of people around me, in strangers, in my mistakes.

Finally tonight, fortunately, I have indeed found the most credible answer to my question. Does love and fear mix? No. If there is fear, love isn't working fully in you. The mending power of love can't be in full work. What I had to do for love to work is to let go of my fear, and let love.

I am the type of person who doesn't easily believe in something requiring me to yield my principles. I require the sturdiest credibility from everything that requires me to believe when it comes to delicate beliefs in my life like love, faith, and some other values and moral upholding. Despite my lofty standards about my belief, I am lucky enough to have found the most believable answer that I can ever have. I'll share it below:

1 John 4:18 (New King James Version)

¹⁸ There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear, because fear involves torment. But he who fears has not been made perfect in love.

Words Like Swords

Words Like Swords

If each and every word

Was a great sharp sword

I wish mine were steel

Wielded with great skill

If when truth be told

I wish you could behold

What my heart can feel

My mouth be witness to what's real

If with thoughts I hold

I can be really bold

May my tongue inside me kill

And not instead be still

If gone the days of old

And my hours have been fully mold

May I not for my words kneel

Pray to turn back the wheel

Words are really important. They are the different threads and needles of communication. They aren't just needles when they meet their destinations. They are swords.

Words aren't confined in those that are spoken by the mouth, nor those written. Even the words of our body's movements speak words. Even silence means words.

Communication is a very powerful tool. It can make or break. It can be used to defend, or destroy.

Picking up the thoughts from "words as sharp swords", I came up with these simple verses. The thought is really simple indeed -- just expressing the boldness of words.

On this writing, I focused more on the honesty, plainness, and straightforwardness of words as they go.

You Want To Write

This is now the time when you want to write that bad... yet you no longer can cos your eyes are dropping real low. This is just how I say good night and good bye for now.

I'll continue writing tomorrow. Peace and sleep well, Matt!!! >:D

The Delight Of Seeing Your Posts Beautify Your Blog

How delightful it is to see my posts beautify my blog.

The most beautiful thing that posts do is to reflect who you are and your thoughts. That's the most special thing. You see yourself clearer.

I'm Fixing My ORIGINAL Mail!!! :D

Yeah, I heard myself right. Oh, read.

I had come up with this particular e-mail address before, and I believe that I should pay homage to it. It is one of the most original and solid e-mail addresses that I've ever created. I don't think that there'll ever be another else like it.

I've left it in ruins (like my blog, sadly) before... ever since I've used it to subscribe to different social networking sites... and other newsletters. It especially became more desolate when I created a new e-mail address (for professional use).

Just this night, as I have checked it for after quite long, I saw how ruinous it was. I now have some lots of cleaning to do. Let it wait for me to do it, and it'll be better than it was before.

All About Being Left-Handed

Well, I believe that there are certain practices that my left part of the body is more dominant than the right. For one, I prefer to talk over the phone using my left ear. I prefer focusing my eye on objects using my left eye. In both cases, it's clearer.

I've found an interesting website when I searched the net on something about my grammar usage while I was thinking of a title for one of my blogs... then one of the 'google' results came out with an interesting link about left-handedness.

Here's the link, as I might blog more about this some other time:

http://www.lefthandersday.com/

Just When You Think...

Just when I've thought that I had no real friends around me... Just when I've thought that I'm alone... Just when I feared being alone for longer... And just when I thought that I'm gonna be like this -- by myself all along...

I was wronged. And, there appeared friends whom I never thought would be there.

Thanks... :)

The Day That I Let You Be

It was a disaster. I shouldn't have left you for fame nor attention. I shouldn't have loved the many but short glimpse of liking. It was killing you.

I had left you in ruins. I thought that you'd live on your own. I tried to rest on fleeting pleasures and moments of heights but it did me no good. Now, I can only conclude that you are my home, my one and only true refuge... and my soul.

I have returned and I will be by your side, now that I have known who I am. Now that I have known what you are to me. Especially now that I've known the connection between the two of us -- that cord that ties our soul and brings life.

Sting

This night is pretty unusual
Though it happens all the time
My thoughts wander endlessly
Feels like chasing something but nothing

Sights again I see
They make known to me things of old
Those that hurt, that sting more hurtful
Than what gloom can ever do

Tonight I do something different
Than what I always do
Because I'm tired of being used to
What I already know of despondence

This midnight, I pray
For something new
I will sleep away this sadness
I face my fears as I dream and not lose

Tomorrow morning
When things are of more light
I'll be better. This time
It'll no longer be the same

Thinking

You are what you think... so better be creative! ;)

Faith I

"Even if the world is silent right now despite my loads of questions... I know that I still have friends."

~Faith

My Rest (And Talking About Something)

The only lesson that rang the loudest bell in my ear today is about keeping watch of what I do, especially for God's glory.

I have just checked my myLasalle portal account to view my grades and check what's going on. Who knows, there might already be an update about my grades. I'd like to cut short my prolonged agony anyway. By agony, I wish to refer to anxiety. My heart was still pounding when I viewed my grades. I only saw 'NGS' which means 'No Grades Yet'. I saw the titles of the courses, one and the first of them being something that began with "Organization", I thought that it was for the second term and that there was some sort of error. I again tried to look at it clearer, this time holding my trembling anxiety. At last, I saw that there weren't any grade encoded online yet. Oh, well. The agony still breathes.

I should really evaluate my performance this term. I think that I have tried to evade facing the truth about what's really happening with my academic performance. This time, I believe, is the time that I finally face what I have long tried to deny.

In simple words, my academics are shattering, and are crumbling into pieces. It is in a deep, dark, and shameful place. To look at it, if it can be looked at, would only cause remorse or disgust. Well, that's the way I would most likely look at it.

Why? Have I lost my zeal? Zeal, for me, is even too small a word to describe what I had before. It's a very academic term. It was more like a gift handed to me freely, promised to me. Now, it seems like I haven't been a good steward to the things entrusted to my care.

What am I doing? What are the reasons behind my invisible fall? Why is it that my destruction is too silent and subtle? It's as if not telling me the truth though it's happening right in front of my face.

I cannot simply wish for the zeal to come back. Oh, I'm using zeal as the term again. I must look on. I must know His answer. I know I'll get it soon. By faith, I do. I need Him now more than ever. He's all that I'll ever need. I'm really regretful, shameful, and sorry that I laid low in faith.

I glimmered with the sensation of the talk. I walked in only the fame of the fad. However, I never really entered the ball because I never believe that I was part of it. Now my soul longs for it more than ever. I care no longer in what other people think about life. I only need one thing, and that one thing I can find in Him...

This is my personal desire.

My You. My Selah. My Rest...