Think G.I. Jane

I started this blog last January 2010 when I truly felt that I needed to motivate myself to write. Being typically almost always "up-in-the-clouds", I thought it'd be a cool idea if I pretend I were some columnist, with a weekly article due. The mandate was: release an article every Tuesday. For those who don't know, this blog was initially "Choosy Tuesday" instead of -Chase Beautiful Things-.

Take a look at my archives and you'd notice, this blog isn't really a beauty blog. Primarily, this blog is really a personal blog. If you want proof, try typing out www dot kumikomae dot blogspot dot com, and find yourself redirected to the which you are pretty much on now.

My posts were quite personal indeed... but not the type of personal which narrated what I ate or which showed pictures of what I wore, stuff like that. My blogs then were mostly my thoughts, laid out in its most organized manner. You see, when I imagine the things I imagine (isn't that hint enough about how weird I think?) I imagine that my thoughts are nothing but a mess: a mess I try to dig into to find a treasure and a mess I try to dig into, to sometimes, get escape from!

A lot of people say, I think too much. When I take that in, I laugh, then I agree, then I feel worried, then I laugh again; or agree again.

I find it funny that I think too much because there are a lot of occasions when my thoughts aren't really the wisest, yet I continue thinking... too much.

I agree that I think too much because when I really think about it, I do think too much!

I feel worried that I think too much because I think one's head is like any other part of the body. If you overwork it, it'd be worn out (i.e, an ankle or your heart).

And I find it funny again because I think it is great that at risk of losing my mind, I get to think a wise thought here and there.

I can't remember exactly, when this blog turned into this hodge-podge of beautiful things (because I do chase beautiful things),  but I feel that I need to compensate the lack of memory with something else. Something to look forward to perhaps?

My head hurts so bad. I try to look at the point defined by my laptop's webcam and I feel like I'm spinning. I feel so hurt, and at that very pointed edge I think...
so I laugh, though not outloud, still I laugh.

Pain is one of the most ironic things of life. Unlike love, I think it's avoidable, yet we often burn ourselves out either enduring it or understanding (or to understand) it.

It's so ironic because I think, even the most masochistic person would want to do without pain at the very end of time.

Yet isn't it true that pain is a feeling only felt when allowed? Pain requires permission. If it hurts so much, why do we allow it?

I think pain is powerful because of two things: our humanity (which makes us vulnerable one way or another), or our consent (which oftentimes we give out without, ironically, our consent).

They say words stab like knives. To picture my thoughts... Imagine imagining dictionaries.



  1. Pain requires permission.

    I never thought of it like that! :)


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