Tag: Daily Prompt Page 1 of 3

That Same Old Green

I am a secretary in the 4th Student Council in my high school.

It’s a title I bear with pride, took with struggle, and worked with sweat. Some of you might think, what’s good about being a secretary? You’re just probably being slaved around in front of your computer screen making documents and recapping all data for formalities.

You’re right for the most part, except I never felt slaved around. I love what I do, I love having to get up again at 12 at night to finish a letter so suddenly ordered to make, I love asking people to sign papers, I love learning new stuff and having to search through files for some examples.
Most of all, I love the thought of continuing this legacy after three other people who did their damn finest job in this position.

You must know how it feels, trying to live up to the world’s expectation after someone in the past did your job so amazingly that you’re willing to crack your eyes open no matter how late it is only to get that stamp of approval from everyone.

I guess somewhere along the way, I lost the sense of originality by trying to be the same. This is probably because I remember being told off at doing things on my own way.

“If you want to be independent,then so be it.”

After that day, the idea of doing things differently didn’t come up again for a while.

Until one day, I shook my head, gave myself a slap for the ridiculousness, and thought, “Screw it.”

I guess if I have to pick a song to relate to my situation, I’d sing a verse from Glee’s I Feel Pretty/Unpretty;

why do I look to all these things
to keep you happy?

Yeah, that sums it up. Don’t get me wrong, the seniors have my fullest respect, I wanted to be in this position because I admired the secretary of the 2nd SC, but we gotta give our own touch to make our own style, right? Being the same is boring, what’s wrong with breaking the box and soaring a bit further? After all, once I’ve stepped of from this position, I’d like for my successor, whoever it is, to do things with their own style.

This way none of us are limiting anybody from whatever creativity that can be produced. Good work all around yeah?

So be different, be original, be memorable. Be you, don’t try to follow every footsteps, stray a bit here and there to find your own shade of green. Hell, be blue, be turquoise, be pink!

Trust me, I will be so disappointed if I see my junior become that plain safe shade of green all over again.

Here’s to other color than green.

In response to: Contrast

In Which I Learn to Meditate




the quality of being clear, in particular.

After a hectic March holding a charity concert with 51 people as student council, my sleeping pattern shifted from the usual 8 hours to 5, resulting a foggy state in the mornings where it’s like standing at the top of a mountain and not being able to see surrounded by white mist.

With school and other projects still ahead of me, I wanted to be rid of this situation however I can, and I looked up meditation online. In my inexperienced view, I see certain state of calamity and peace in people who have succeeded in doing this as regular activity and wanted to be as at peace as they make it seem in Kung Fu Panda 3.

Having tried practicing myself to Lucid Dream and failed, I was a bit skeptic about the whole idea, but I decided to give it a try. They said meditating can help achieve lucid state in my sleep, so I figured it was a win-win situation.

I followed whatever tutorials for beginner out there on Wikia, YouTube, and Google, and have attempted to do it for three days, each for only two minutes. I can say that the first two helped me achieve an ‘awaken’ state in the mornings, but the third attempt was  a long boring two minutes. This was probably because I wasn’t in a relaxed state and didn’t have a wall to sit against.

So far, I still have a lot to work to, and I have to really commit to daily meditation, but I can say the mist is getting thinner in the mountain. Maybe once I’m a pro, I will start seeing my past life and find out I was a princess in some castle a long lifetime ago.

Or a frog, that works too.

Let me know some tips to help me get better at this – or the Lucid Dream too, and tell me your experiences! I’d love to learn from you.

In response to: Clarity

Us in Colors

was boring day at school.

was clumsy bumps in the hallway.

was trading pranks and knowing you.

was nothing but comfort.

was to my blushing cheeks.

was end-game promise shared.

was when we spoke of future.

was ugly bad sign of an end.

was when tears of misery was spilled.

was when we said goodbye.

was to a new beginning.

In response to: Colorful

The Place Where I Used To Be

I swam ashore and dragged my bare feet to the white, sandy beach. I was drenched all over with sea water and maybe a little bit of tears. The sky was pitch black, the air was cold. I laid my back into the sand and looked out into the sky.

“You know what’s best about not caring anymore?”

The thin air offered silent reply.

“I can just lie down here until I’m dry,” from their thoughts and influences. “I can stay here and close my eyes and let go.”

Humid breeze passed by.

“The reason I changed last year was because I wanted to be just like them,” I whispered to no one. “I thought I could fake it and make them believe that I have the same belief. I thought I could just lay low and speak zero of my mind. I thought I could enjoy being mean and bad mouth people behind their back.”

I felt the soft sands and traced random lines.

“It was supposed to be as easy as it sounds,” I murmured.

You were too stubborn. You just had to say what is right and defend for what is good. You believed in fairness, justice, and kindness in general.

“Hm, I’m not smart enough to play that game, yeah?”

I like you like this a bit better. Just like old times, you’re free. You’re not trying to impress anyone. You talk about what you love as free as the cloud floats.

“I wouldn’t have been able to do it for long. Giving physical punishments, bad mouthing people I don’t know the story of, being mean only because I could. I would have itched left and right to do what’s right.”

Do you regret it?

I considered that. “Did you know that I couldn’t talk about fanfiction or being in fandom in general back in year ten? Those were the things that I loved, but they didn’t understand, and so I kept it to myself.”

Your companies now, they understand?

It’s what they love too,” I laughed, remembering stupid conversations and deep discussions about politics, human rights, and fan stories. “Uncool I may be, but happy, I certainly am.”

And that’s good?

I closed my eyes and felt serenity come to me. “I like where I am. It’s as free as I can get. This is where I used to be.”

Good. That’s good.

The voice left me in a ghostly whisper.

In response to: Refresh

Dancing Souls


so they met

in a dance

pair of souls

met in motion

took a year

all to love

letting go


they did not

a dreamer soul

a brainiac

and here I stand

longing for same

how to love

how to find

a dreamer soul

who believes

and explores

who leads the crowd

and enjoys

i fill my

empty glass

i raise it to

a broken soul

who danced his way

to find his mate

so pray they find

a happy end

In response to: Envy

I’ll Give You Seven

Tell us about a book you can read again and again without getting bored — what is it that speaks to you?

I will have to give you seven of them, the Harry Potter series, and they speak seven different things:








In response to: Second Time Around

As Dad Drives Me To School

Our days our organized around numerous small actions we repeat over and over. What’s your favorite daily ritual?

Let me tell you, it’s hard memorizing the Quran. You sing a song, you forget. You glance at boys, you forget. You don’t recite them, you forget.

My father, bless him, is a man of modern thoughts with a permanent old soul. He likes to share his thoughts online through his blog and it was from his infectious habit that I began to start a blog of my own.

While he is all these amazing figures out there, he is pretty much a dad who’s open minded and never scared of sharing his thoughts or making funny jokes to every sentence I have to offer.

You see, my dad drives me to school.

It’s a routine thing ever since my brother went to Japan, and we always have this unspoken deal that the radio cannot be turned on in the morning. It’s a moment of silence where he recites his daily morning prayer and I read fanfiction in silence.

Lately, he decided to involve me in his daily routine. I just memorized a brand new surah from the Quran last December, and my father is determined for me to not forget it at all, so he makes me recite the surah every morning on our way to school and he’ll correct me every time I get a verse wrong. Each morning I silently hope he’ll forget, just a morning, but he always remembers, and well, who am I to say no to a good deed?

“Whoops, almost forgot, come on, read the surah,” he’d say in a sheepish grin.

And I simply lowered my phone and started us off.

So that’s my favorite bit. At least now I don’t forget. Thanks, Dad.

In response to: Just Another Day

Sore Hand and Empty Inks

Your life without a computer: what does it look like?

Bookcase filled with written journals, maybe, or school notebook full of scribbles in the back. One thing I know, computer or no, I never stop writing. Most of my posts are first written in a blank page before I type them here, anyway, so sore right hand and rough empty inks it is.

In response to: Life After Blogs

Easier Forgotten

When you do something scary or stressful — bungee jumping, public speaking, etc. — do you prefer to be surrounded by friends or by strangers? Why?

I know for fact that I don’t activate my sensor as much as I should around unrecognized faces. Those faces forget, and most importantly, don’t care if I make an utter embarrassment of myself.

Friends remember, and mostly, they judge because they feel familiar enough to offend. Strangers don’t have the natural consent to do so. They understand what it means to respect and shut up.

Strangers can be a lot better friend than you know.

In response to: Witness Protection

Oh, But I Can

What do you find more unbearable: watching a video of yourself, or listening to a recording of your voice? Why?

Well, now I’m confused.

To put it blatantly, as shallow as it sounds, I quite like how I sound or how I look. I never find any reason to not embrace who I am. It’s the most fascinating thing, really, to look at yourself and find all the weird things of your being and wonder how can people still be your friends.

Make it bearable!

In response to: Can’t Stand Me

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