January is known as the month of Resolutions and Dreams and New Beginnings, but if I were to label it myself, Unpredictability would be a better word.

A weekend trip, a packed suitcase, and a rude awakening, my January has indeed been many, many things. I think it's been many things for a lot of people. Regardless of what you do or where you are, being pulled away from the Happy Holidays into the gruesome forest of reality is no seamless transition.

Security checks, lounge areas, and suitcases wheeled across the floor. Different heads turning in search of direction. Coffee machines, fluorescent lights, and the buzzing chatter of strangers. Through the scene, a girl walks through the terminal, two boarding passes tucked neatly in a passport. Over her shoulders an overstuffed backpack, and tied around her waist is a dark blue hooded jacket.

Her feet pace. Her heart beats. A journey both fun, and too bittersweet. Only holding on to a tiny hope within, that up there where she's going, a new life will begin.

Hello! Yes, it is I, your typical blogger, emerging from the underworld.

It has been 7 days since my last blog post and I just spent an entire week of not writing nor preparing any content whatsoever. I know, I know; grant me no excuse, I am a disgrace.

Anyway, earlier today, I went for a hair appointment because there's only 6 days until the big move and my God, who wants to spend $50 on a haircut in a foreign country? Not me. For several days, I contemplated on whether or not I should cut my hair short. After a lot of thinking and Pinterest-browsing, I decided on this lob cut, similar to one I got back in 2016. I was pleased with the results, then proceeded to go home, put some decent makeup on, and take some pictures on a windy Tuesday. Because I have a camera. And it allows me to do that. 

Changing your hair on a January makes it look like you're buying into the cliché "new year, new me" thing, I get it. But there are reasons why I can be such a short-hair-enthusiast; at any time of year, really.

I've been thinking a lot about the idea of "goals" and success, and how the whole January-1st-on-a-Monday situation has propelled us into this strange, whimsical start-of-the-year optimism. 

And the race to fulfill all the New Year's Resolutions begins.

Maybe you met with some people over the holidays and hey, someone just got engaged! Or a quick scroll through Instagram tells you about that promotion your friend just received. Not to mention the overly concerned relatives who are always a little too curious about your love life; as if we'd all die without a relationship status.

Be it comparison, peer/parental pressure, or by any other reason, everyone's been at that point in their lives where they feel like they haven't really achieved anything, have they? It's only natural, and I get it. Some 20-year-olds are still in uni, trying their best to make ends meet. But some 20-year-olds are married. Some other 20-year-olds own Google. (Probably.)

A lot can be said about "goals" and success, but the pattern is that it's always rather distant. Never quite within our reach yet. Consequently, we find ourselves stuck, thinking, I should've made it by now.

Twenty days away from my departure and each day, I grow increasingly reminiscent. Over everything. The objects in my house, the laughter of my family, the silence of my bedroom, the sounds coming from my kitchen. Maybe once you listen to something repeatedly each day, even the noisy clatter of pots and pans and kitchen utensils start to sound like a harmony in formation.

The 2nd day of January, my Christmas decorations are still hanging, left untouched. The tree no longer lights up and the tinsel looks pathetically outdated. With the right light, they still glimmer, but displaying their red-and-green holiday cheer when the holidays are almost over, their festiveness now  only makes them look lame.

It's the first Tuesday of the year. I'm sitting in my living room, minutes until noon, when the sky had decided to unleash its melancholy. Initially I was reading a book; a story about someone who suffered amnesia. Yet in all the "joy and peace of mind" the rain seemingly brought, I couldn't concentrate. I looked up, and around, and outside, and then in. I realized I didn't want to read. I want to write.

Happy new year!

A couple of days ago, I'd asked my followers to send me submissions for an upcoming blog post. See, as the year comes to a close, I find myself hunting for new content and material. So I urged them to send me anything they want; a story, a question, or any thought unspoken or unexpressed before 2017 ends. It was sort of a humble invitation to get them to speak up, or perhaps help them by coming up with some answers. Considering we are now in 2018 already, below are some of the results.

Disclaimer: This compilation was made in no particular order, only grouped into two; the questions, and confessions. The short lines at the center separate the submissions by the different individuals who sent them (so multiple questions in one segment means they came from one person.) Some of these have been translated and edited for clarity, but all of these will remain anonymous.