The art of editing.

I recently took part in a creative writing workshop, as part of my mandatory curriculum at a London University. Although I write fiction since I was nine years old, I rarely thought about taking a serious course on it, as it is my personal opinion that one cannot teach writing. You can write, or you simply can't. And thus, I started this workshop a little skeptical, curious to know whether I was right or not. After all, we may all possess imagination, but the skill to put thoughts into words is not as easily acquirable.

I realised soon that rather than being a medium where people learnt how to write, it was more of an editing and self-editing process, all whilst being observed and judged by fellow peers. I say peers, but I often felt like I was sitting in a room with people who had never tried putting pen to paper. Albeit, it must not have been true, as we'd all picked out this particular course and it does involves reading and writing. Not to make myself seem Mary Sue-ish, but I consider years and years of writing proper experience for such an environment. Or at least a starting point.

My story for this project was in no way innovative or outlandish. It merely recounts the events in my character's life, allowing for some development and emotional impact. My editing process involved quite a lot, as I'm not very keen to hear criticism, but I knew I had to learn how to accept it and incorporate it in my writing mechanism. There is no journalist without critique, for sure. In the end, my story got edited for the better, although my characters ended up the very same way I envisioned them at first. However, it was the process I went through along with my characters that caught my attention and has me writing this entry.

I sat in a room with the same twelve people, for several weeks. I watched them come up with ridiculous ideas for stories, stuff with no substance or plots that needed serious work. Furthermore, some of the stories remained as non-lucrative as they'd originally been thought out, but that's beside the point. As we all sat there, Tuesday after Tuesday, criticising each other's work with no knowledge whatsoever of what it means to edit someone's work, I realised it's exactly what we do in life.

We meet someone and we instantly put them in a box, stereotyping them. It's the natural course of life, I suppose. It's what we did in my workshop. My story was about a lesbian couple whose love story ends on a rather painful note, due to traditions and foreign laws. It's meant to make people think that we can't stereotype simply because we don't understand. It got me labelled as the lesbian feminist who thinks it's wrong for women to fight against traditions, and also as a weird Eastern European because I chose to represent a legal process that most people never encounter. Not to mention I got told it's so much easier to write from a gay perspective. It really isn't.

It's odd. Sitting in a room with people you've never met before, listening to their critical remarks and realising they're not actually talking about your story, but you. Writing is personal, we all know this. But it doesn't have to be all we writers are. There is more to the writer than the writing in itself, and it would be nice if people remembered that before putting you in a box. They may confine you there forever.

No parade for lost souls.

People have as much power as you give them. I may have given certain people too much of me and thus, I find myself stuck in a bit of a rut. Socially retarded, I said to her today. She's just as great as ever, of course, even when I'm annoying and act like a spoiled brat. She's always great.

I'm not that great. I know I have to let go of the past to make the most out of the amazing present I'm currently living, and ultimately to make a better future. What is it that they say....? The best way to predict the future is to create it. I hope they're right, because I've always been idealistic like that. Perhaps thinking I can create something so existentially big is a foolish thing. Let the dreamers dream, I say.

It's been over half a year. Round the same time that I found myself in the most rewarding and challenging relationship, I also learnt the hard way that people are fickle sheep. They all claim to know what's right and wrong, but when it comes to actually listening to the facts, many discovered they had a deaf ear. It doesn't even matter if it was the right or wrong ear. I didn't expect that. Is it why I'm still stuck over what happened?

I swore I'd get over it and I have. You don't matter to me at all anymore. I don't feel the need to stick your face in a wall when I see you. I don't avoid places we used to go together, simply because you don't count at all. I've pushed myself forward and I now have a meaning, a purpose in life, a direction. All along, you were holding me back.
...No. I let you hold me back.

Am I sorry? Not exactly. If I hadn't, I wouldn't be here today. And while I feel stuck and without a way out, I wouldn't change it for the world. I bet it sucks to know I found the happiness of my life because you decided to turn everyone against me. Which, you have. It doesn't matter. What matters is she makes me happier than I've ever been. She gives a different meaning to every day. She challenges me, she changes me, she makes me see who I want to be. And who I want to be with.

I have given you too much power. But I'm taking it back now. Some live to have fun. Others live to make something out of this life. I'd like to think that, as much as I love to have fun, my desire to leave something behind is a lot bigger than the need to drink.

I think the trick is... Find someone that makes you feel complete without defining you as a person. Afterwards, pieces of life's puzzle seem to fall in the right places, somehow. I've yet to fully understand how. I don't think I want to know. Not everything has an explanation. Just like not everyone has a bright future, some people are meant to be average while others are destined for greatness.

Disclaimer: Yes, this is aimed at someone in particular. It's also a life lesson in itself. An experience that redefined my ideas about people and society. One that opened my eyes a little bit more.
This is also the last time I plan to think or mention this said event. I'm locking it on this page, for all eternity. Or for all of blogspot's eternity, at least. Farewell. Tomorrow is a new day.

Say hello to goodbye.

For whatever reason, tonight I find myself thinking about different types of relationships and how everything that goes down between two people can easily be resumed to one thing: a power struggle. Someone has to have the last word, someone needs to be loved a little bit more, someone always ends up giving more and receiving less...

In a social situation, I find it depends on certain factors, such as gender, race, class and whatever else sociecty concocted as 'normal' and 'appropriate'. Slightly different now than it used to be, as the fight for equality in all aspects has carried on for years and has managed to achieve some great results. (See the recent progress USA made with making same sex marriage legal in a bunch of new states. And that's just one example).

Romantically, it baffles me. Of course, people in a relationship will be different, will have different characters and personalities and will want certain things individually. Things that may or may not coincide with anyone else's wishes. And that's acceptable. Who wants to date someone that just manages to stick along for the ride and has nothing going on for themselves? Not a very pretty picture. But the very fact that two people find themselves wishing to intertwine their lives in more than one way, should mean that they aspire to the same things. Sure, compromises can be made along the way. After all, we're only human and we'll all agree to disagree sometimes. But when did that turn into just one person making the compromise all the time? Why is it just one person that has to sit by the phone and wait for a sign? Why can't both people miss each other equally?

But I guess the most important question that we should ask ourselves is... In either place we find ourselves during our 'dating' life. Why do we let ourselves drawn into someone's gravity with such force that we end up completely forgetting we are our own person? And on the same accord, why would we want to string someone along if we know we don't feel as passionately as the other person?

Seems to me people need a clearer definition of what they're looking for in a relationship. People shouldn't get into one if they're not ready to give as much as someone else is offering them. If one doesn't need what someone is willing to give, walk away. Just walk away and don't look back. Better safe than sorry.

Check mate.

When coming out turns into a bigger deal than what you initially thought it would be.

A scenario that seems familiar to probably everyone who's had to come out as gay or lesbian (or anything else in the lgbt spectrum), particularly to parents or relatives.

I didn't really think that I could get in a relationship where everything would be perfect. Not that I'm a spitting image for perfection, or because she's in any way even close. (Well... She is in my eyes, but if we stop to look at things objectively, no one is ever perfect. We may strive for it or look for it in others, but that's about it.) But I did. I'm now 25 and I've reached a point in life when I can genuinely say that this relationship, this school, a job and all the future plans I have are exactly what I need to go on day in, day out. Yes, it gets tough, but life sure as hell isn't easy. It never has been for me, so I don't ever expect to give in and lay down for me. I wouldn't really have it that way.

And then, with recent events, I got to this shocking conclusion. My current relationship is going okay from all social and personal perspectives, but is threatened by cultural differences. Barriers that I can never hope to bring down, for centuries of traditions and customs stand before me. In the 21st century, I stand alone having to defend my close-to-perfect relationship. All because it's not 'appropriate'. And sure, according to said traditions, it really isn't. One is expected to grow up, get married (to someone appropriate, mind you!), pop out a baby, get a boring career path and eventually, grow old. Do what is typical and expected, as I've just been told a mere few moments ago.

She struggles with it. She's caught between what's expected of her and what she really wants to do. And I can't be selfish and complain, because a couple of years ago I fled my home country due to a similar situation. I sometimes still find myself caught between someone's expectations and the realisation that I no longer need or should fulfill it. However. I also realise not everyone is me. And while we are the same in so many other aspects, we clearly differ in this one. That's quite alright, although I wish she didn't have to go through this particular battlefield. I remember it left me scarred and broken and while I seem to have it all together now, I really don't. I just pretend and hope that every day will end on a somewhat good note. And for the last few months, every single day has been like that. Thanks to her.

But she's not the appropriate one. Or, well. Maybe I should put it the other way around. I'm not appropriate. I'm not right. I'm not one of them. Seems like this year has been the time for people to constantly remind me of my origin and how it affects the way society sees me. Whether it's the Western or Eastern one. I don't seem to fit in either hemisphere, funnily enough.

So, check mate. Life, one - Cristina, nil. Once again. I don't know how this is going to end. I don't know if it is going to end. I can't give it too much thought, or I'll talk myself out of it. All of it.

In retrospective.

I dreamed I stopped dreaming...

25 years went in a blink of an eye. I find myself living in a city I once adored, but now simply see as 'home'. It's true what they say, we get comfortable with the things we have and take them for granted. I often wonder if I would long for London should I move elsewhere. I probably would. Or maybe I would learn to call some other land home, leaving this wonderful city behind, with all its glory and history and culture. Forgotten names, forgotten faces... But the memories would always follow me.

I've fallen out with just about everyone in my life since I moved here. Seems that I boarded a fast train to wherever life is meant to take me, while everyone else is enjoying a ride I can't be a part of. I've lost my ticket when I decided that my dreams and goals were far more important than all the effort it takes to entertain certain social interactions. Friendships aren't meant to be this hard. They aren't made to break you and cause you stress over and over again. And I guess I learnt to let go when it gets too tough, for I have no energy to waste on people. For the same reason, I suppose, I've avoided romantic relationships up until now. It's hard to find someone who can understand my need and desire to get somewhere and the fact that I am willing to sacrifice mostly everything for it. I still struggle with it sometimes, although things are pretty much amazing right now. Occasionally though, I find myself screaming at the top of my voice. Some things make sense, while others are completely devoid of anything remotely sane.

I do long for human interaction, sadly. Like my mum used to say to me, ages ago, when I was merely a teenager fresh off my secondary school's desks, 'people can't live alone'. It gets lonely at the top, she'd add. I'm mostly okay when in the outside world, for whatever's worth. I'm really okay when I get to spend time with her, for she genuinely makes me happy. Happier than I've been in a really long time. I'm still okay when I'm left to my own devices and I get to do my thing, without anyone thinking I'm a weirdo. And then there comes a time when I'm just not okay anymore. Like now. On the eve of my 25th birthday, I'm having a little moment. Nothing is fine, everything is wrong and broken, people are annoying, I am annoying. Everything just isn't right, and it is at the same time. I fear I'm on my way to getting everything I wanted and for whatever reason, I want to leave it all behind and run away. Life is confusing, yes. Especially when one tries so hard to find faults in a plan that seems to be working. As best as a laid out plan can work, at the very least.

25 years, gone. The last three have been most rewarding, although filled with a lot of hard times, hard work and everything in between. I'm most grateful to everyone that came and went, for they all shaped up what I always believed in. I'm not one for clinging onto people. I don't get attached, I'm cold and heartless, socially awkward and always goal oriented. People always leave, anyway. I'll stick to going places and seeing things, even if it means getting there on my own. And I'll kill this nostalgic sadness, for I don't want it to bring me down. After everything that happened in the past, it's safe to say people have always managed to disappoint me. And I'm sure I've disappointed them, too.

And that's just a-okay. I'm keeping the memories.

Not an illusion.

Someone asked me the other day if I saw myself with her for a long time. I mumbled something about hoping it was the case, and then went back to work like I didn't just pass judgment on my entire future. In a blink of an eye, I didn't even consider an alternative. Crazier things have happened, I know...

On my way home, sitting on a half empty bus, watching London's nightlights go by, I surrendered to the fear that was slowly creeping in. For the longest minute, my head screamed at me loud and clear. Future plans, holidays planned months in advance, conversations about potentially growing old together... She's behind me on everything I want to do and calls me on my bullshit every single time. I have nowhere to hide when she's around me. And that's a little scary, perhaps even worth my mind yelling at me.

I did manage to keep my head cool and eventually the screaming subsided, as it should be. She makes me fall in love with her time and time again and that's exactly what I was looking for in a significant other. No, she's not perfect and I'm far from it, but that's what makes us two completely different people with somewhat similar life views. And while our lives apart have been significantly different from every point of view, customs or belief systems, it seems legit that we're now making plans for our future together. It feels right. Like a jigsaw puzzle falling together at the right time.

I always say we should just start with today. It seems to have worked for the last three months and it's given me memories to last a lifetime. She gave me those moments and for that, the future can wait. The present is just too good to lose.

Keeper for life.

I slowly trace your skin with my fingers and silently let out a sigh of relief. You're fast asleep and don't know I'm quietly wishing this would never end. This night is no different than the others we've spent together over the last three months, but somehow my desire burns brighter and hotter on this cold September hour.

You know by now. I've made it quite clear, although you're always cautious with your words and don't give anything away. At times, I can feel it, but I long to hear it, for it doesn't seem real otherwise. Is that stupid? To wish to hear things you know they're there, but aren't quite sure of...?

As soon as the morning comes, the magic of this moment will be gone and we'll go back to our mundane, day-to-day issues, which I'm more than happy to do. As long as you leave the house and come back to me, it's okay...

Sometimes, I wish you didn't make me so happy. Happiness is so fleeting that I'm continuously scared of it. I enjoy it, but I can't help but wait for the turn of the wheel. I know, you said it: it won't make me any less unhappy if I keep waiting for it. But it's not that. I just don't think I deserve it.
The happiness, that is. The joy you bring me seems unreal, it makes my whole spirit go up in flames. And I burn, oh how I burn.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not sitting here waiting for this to end and the sadness to start. I'm also done with being cautious and guarded. I'm all in. All in. I just don't know if you are. And, like many other things I can't control, that is okay, too.