Inspiration and The Lack Thereof

I know that I have not been writing in awhile. I don’t know what I should write. I don’t know about anything worth writing. I wanted to write about my thoughts but I thought that it might sound childish if all I did was talk about myself. I wanted to write about my travel experiences as I did notice that travel blogs are the new thing. I might get a lot of readers. Then again, I don’t know how to execute. I wanted to write about life but I did not want to sound so depressing.

I went to work yesterday. I had to work with a fellow attendant who is a good friend of mine. She and I had a lot in common. She also has her own blog. Go check it out. It is not your typical lifestyle and travel blog. If my writing  has any worth to anyone out there then go on ahead and thank her. She was one of my motivation to start writing again which resulted in this blog.

Anyway, we talked about our common love (I refuse to call it as obsession) for Harry Potter. Besides that, the topic steered towards our life and work relationships. Then, it, in my opinion, brought us closer as friends. I envy her a bit before to be honest. She was just this free and uncaring thing that would make me look at myself and realize how controlled I was as a person. But then again, if she could do it then why can’t I? That is because I have people to protect and prioritize first.

This C.A. Villeta alter ego is already a stretch for me. My dear friend, if you are reading this, I beg of you not to reveal my true identity. I can’t handle that yet. Call me a coward but that is it. Talk about being a Gryffindor.

Anyway, I wanted to continue this blog. I really do. So, I started to interview her on how she did it. I did learn a lot. The most striking part of our conversation was as follows…

Her: How is life?
Me: Boring.
Her: That is not possible because you are not a boring person. (That was honestly the sweetest thing that anyone had said to me in a long time.)
Me: Then how would you call it?
Her: Uneventful
Me: So I am an uneventful? Is that not the same thing as boring?
Her: Not uneventful. I would say that not much things happen in your life.
Me: Same thing.
Her: ‘Uneventful’ is not really an appropriate adjective to describe a person.
*We started laughing*
Me: How do you do it? How do you come up with things to write about?
Her: When life happens then I blog.
Me: Then I must be so boring.

Then she talks about how she started her blog. I had to cut her off because I knew how. I knew what her social media posts meant. She told me all of it before. She forgot, apparently. Yet, silly me forgot the actual name of her blog when it was so painstakingly obvious. She talked about her experiences with whatever it was that was the closest that she could do in matters of blog promotion. She also talked about her most successful series, Single Girl Diaries.

I did not tell her that I write a blog as well. Part of me was embarrassed because I have been doing a foul job at it. Part of me was still clinging to the self-preservation that no one must know my true identity. And here I am talking about being myself. I am such a hypocrite. Then again, I am a big mess of contradictions. I recently posted a true life short story on Medium and I sent the link to the person in question. Now, I am writing this and throwing my shield up for her to know who I am. What a mess.

So, main point is I am writing again. Hopefully for the long haul. When life happens then she blogs. I guess I was looking for some majestic breakthrough in mine so that I could have the motivation to write again. That conversation must be it.

How will I do it? How will I come up with things to write about?
I have not the slightest idea.
For now, I will just write.
I will write even if it is just gibberish like this post right here.
I will write until I write something that matters.
I will write until the gibberish matters.
I hope.

It feels good to type again, to be honest.
To my dear friend, thank you. And yes, I think you are right. You should write more. There are people counting on your work. Count me as one of them.


At The Moment

It has been awhile since I last posted here. I just came from a two-week layover. I am currently suffering from Aerotitis. (Take it from a frequent flyer, people. Never ride an airplane with a cold. It’s murder.) I could not breathe from my nose and I could not hear 70% of what’s happening around me. Besides that, it felt like my face is being drilled by a dozen screwdrivers.

So now that I am back home and away from single digit degree Celsius weather and from a scarcity of meds, I can now finally treat myself. Hurrah!

First of all, I deeply apologize to my Blogmas peeps for not being able to contribute to the challenge. Two, I am also sorry for my prolonged absence. Hopefully I will be able to get back on track soon.

Fingers crossed.. Achoo!
Excuse me.

Reaching For The Star: The Liebster Award

The Liebster Award

The Liebster Award

Do you recall how heart-warming it is to receive positive feedback of your work? Well, if you are open-minded then you know how good it feels to receive any feedback at all either positive or negative.

With a month’s worth of blogging experience and two year’s worth of untutored writing experience, I feel like I am on Cloud Nine whenever someone reacts to my work. To think that I was happy enough… Then POOF! I was sent to Cloud Ten when I was nominated for the Liebster Award!

Continue reading

A Jogger in Prayer

My Lord God Almighty,

Save him. Please. Save him. Please. Please. Please. I’ll do anything. Oh God.

I was so stupid. How should I know? He was just so weak. I was so stupid. I’m sorry.

He was waiting to be bullied. Imagine a person jogging around the park. He would run for two blocks then walk around four then run one block then walk around two then run half a block then drag his feet around six. Then I can hear his heavy breathing from halfway across the park! I mean what was that? I felt like Captain America as I mock him with an “On Your Left” whenever I pass him by.

God, please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Save him.

I am so sorry. How should I know that he was sick? Why would he jog in the first place if he would endanger himself? It’s his fault!

Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Its mine. I should not have pushed him. I should have not taunted him to a race. I should not have called him names. Oh God, I am such an ass.

He just heaved and he fell. Then he did not move.

Oh God, save him. Please. Please. I’ll do anything. Just. Save him. I can’t live with myself if he dies. Please. Save him.

Help him. Please. I beg you. Just let him live. I’ll change. I’ll be better. I’ll… I’ll…

Blogtober Challenge 11: Sneak Peek Clumsy

Today’s post marks that I am currently 1/3 of the way to completing all Blogtober Challenges.

Today, I am supposed to share a sneak peek behind-the-scenes look of my blog.

Struggling To Be A Human Being has not even celebrated its first monthsary yet.

This blog is new, thus, I have no routine yet as to how I fill the blog up with content. I am still struggling, actually. As of the moment, I am still adjusting to the responsibility of posting everyday via Blogtober, making connections with fellow bloggers, desperately trying to gain more reach, and providing more crisp and engaging visuals to support and colorfy my posts.

Despite that, I have been writing for two years now. Even then, I had no proper routine. I wrote when when I wanted. I posted my content when I felt like it. Yet, as a writer, I have more concrete processes on how I conjure my content than on how I materialize them into cyberspace.

Continue reading



Separation ©C.A. Villeta

My eyes were tired. I had not slept the whole night. As I watched the light seep through my bedroom window, I wondered why I could not sleep. Perhaps, it was because I was lying awkwardly across the bed with my legs dangling off the side. Perhaps, I was thinking of her.

I got bored at watching the light passing through my window and instead lowered my gaze to the bed placed parallel to mine. It had been three months since she last laid there. Now, it is full of stuff that I did not need but bought anyway.

See, I called her last night. She sounded happy. I pretended to be the same. I was happy that she was happy. I just did not want to sound defeated. I was not the reason for her happiness. It was better when she was my roommate. I was not content and attempted to take it further. Now, we are merely acquaintances. I should have just kept my mouth shut.