uniquecole-blog

[uniquecole-blog]

Find someone who makes you realize three things: one, that home is not a place, but a feeling. Two, that time is not measured by a clock, but by moments. And three, that heartbeats are not heard, but felt and shared.

things to take to heart, #4 (via uniquecole)

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Oh, if I only had a knife like those that are forgotten on necks, after massacres. If I only had the fingers of a murderer and his unblinking eyes. If I could only utter the cry of his victim the moment he gathers in the voices from all four corners of the earth, I would sharpen my knife with my teeth, and the teeth of all those who, like me, are unable to do anything, except bite their lips with regret, and slaughter this year, peering on us, mockingly. I would chop its body into tender meat, so that the starving would eat. Oh, if only the years were edible, so that the starving would chew them, and spit the bitter taste in our faces. Oh, if only The Lord would see the protruding bones of children, and would do something, anything, so that we wouldn’t lose faith. Oh, if only my heart were a god.

Untitled, Dima Yousf

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the problem is not the lack of evidence of miracles. no, it’s never that. the problem, i understand now, is the lack of trust. it’s people taking the little things for granted. it’s people refusing to believe in anything that defies logic and reason. it’s us, brimming with too much pride and vanity and complacency that we forget to see beyond the veil of our immediate realities. 

the problem is our lack of faith. the problem is that we are so scared of things that don’t make sense to us. 

[uniquecole-blog]

flying lessons

little bird, your nest is not a cage. it is your home. it ought to feel like one.  little bird, you need not always chirp to get their attention. sing heartily. and soon the world will listen.  little bird, there is time and reason for everything. do not pull apart your feathers when it is not yet set for molting.  little bird, take flight. that’s what it takes to see the light.  remind yourself that flying does not always have to mean fleeing. go on -- use your wings to learn  the discipline of breaking  free without escaping. 

[uniquecole-blog]

messages!

whiteph said: Good day Nicole! We are White PH, a new documentary blogazine here at Tumblr. We are seeking for help from notable Tumblr bloggers in promoting our page. Our first issue will be published on July 2015. We hope you will help us in this creative endeavor. Thanks a lot! - White PH Team :)

hello, whitePH! i apologize for replying so late but i wish you the best of luck in all your future endeavors! i hope publishing this message helps. :)

Anonymous said: i like it when you address yourself in third person; both self-assured and detached at the same time.

<3 thank you! i never honestly thought of it that way haha (i only use the third person perspective because i want to convey my story in such a way that readers don’t immediately know it’s mine lol) but your message rings true, you know? i think the third person gives you a clearer, more objective look at a memory compared to other POVs. hehe tl;dr

Anonymous said: I miss reading something from you

huhu i sweaaar i miss writing in here, too! but something feels not quite right whenever i try to publish a post and i just can’t put my finger on it... lately i’ve been writing (again!) on my journal though and i guess in some way that’s a good thing??

Anonymous said: Hey! I love reading your blog. It's just like I'm in the shore, watching the waves and waiting for the sun to set.

imagining that setting makes me feel so calm ahhhh thank you so much!

Anonymous said: nicky-mouuuuuse!! miss you

omg you’re still there! hehe miss u favorite anonymous person!

Anonymous said: Hi Nicole. How do you discipline yourself about studying and stopping yourself from using twitter, tumblr or even facebook? :)

(...not to mention i have not had a cellular phone for two years now! lol)

i dunno, really. i guess i’m just a very private person and i never truly found them necessary? i only use facebook + twitter for school updates, news, and for talking to my friends when i really need to. i’d much rather spend my time watching tv shows and scouring the internet for interesting articles and lit mags than wasting it in social networking sites, tbh. quitting tumblr is the hardest, though. i still come back from time to time (read: only twice or thrice a month lol) but i no longer write/scroll the dashboard as much as i used to. i miss the blogging grind sometimes - but as i mentioned above, it doesn’t feel right anymore. i dunno. maybe i’m getting old and just can no longer connect with the way younger teens stress too much about having a love life, or becoming popular in instagram, or making sure they jump on the latest trends and fads or whatever. there are other things stressing me out now - things that are way bigger than myself, bigger than the immediate circle i exist in. my puberty phase is over. it sucks and it’s scary but i am learning to accept that growing up means having to outgrow some of your old dreams and ideals and interests. it’s just how maturity goes. social networking doesn’t really play a significant part in my maturity phase - and i am actually learning to love that. lol tl;dr again!

but to answer your question (hahah): i think you just have to set clear goals for yourself. when you’re online, know when to stop. and do not go online if it’s not really necessary. in the end what matters is that you know how to balance your academics and social life. 

[uniquecole-blog]

How to think of something, purely, lightly; without unconsciously abusing or altering the very thought?

Susan Sontag, from Reborn: Journals and Notebooks 

[uniquecole-blog]

One day, the apolitical  intellectuals of my country  will be interrogated by the humblest of our people. They will be asked what they did when their country was slowly dying out, like a sweet campfire, small and abandoned. No one will ask them about their dress or their long siestas after lunch, or about their futile struggles against “nothingness,” or about their ontological way to make money, No, they won’t be questioned on Greek mythology, or about the self-disgust they felt when someone deep inside them was getting ready to die the coward’s death. They will be asked nothing about their absurd justifications nurtured in the shadow of a huge lie. On that day, the humble people will come, those who never had a place in the books and poems of the apolitical intellectuals but who daily delivered their bread and milk, their eggs and tortillas; those who mended their clothes, those who drove their cars, those who took care of their dogs and gardens, and worked for them, and they will ask: “What did you do when the poor suffered, when tenderness and life were dangerously burning out in them?” Apolitical intellectuals of my sweet country, you will have nothing to say. A vulture of silence will eat your gut. Your own misery will gnaw at your souls. And you will be mute in your shame.

Otto Rene Castillo, Apolitical Intellectuals

[uniquecole-blog]

It’s morning and the city demands to see the way we will carry ourselves into the new light.

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a thousand years ago, witnessing the moon change its shape every night would have been considered magic. and yet today we take this phenomenon for granted. we have become indifferent to its beauty. doesn’t that make you sad: the fact that we are capable of losing our interest - our enthusiasm - even in the most beautiful things? sucks, no? we get tired of the familiar too easily.

and then what? and then this: the irony -- that we are always so busy wishing for miracles we forget our world is already full of it, if only we learn to seek with persistent eyes. if only we learn to appreciate more. 

what i’m trying to say is this: don’t let familiarity kill your curiosity. never go to bed again without looking at the moon. 

[uniquecole-blog]

for the longest time, people have told me giving up should never be an option when making decisions in this life. you should not give up, they say, you should always, always keep trying. always keep moving, keep going. they say that’s what bravery is. and for the longest time, i have tried. i have fought battles and kept going even if i've always been terrified. 

but i know better now: bravery comes in different forms and it doesn’t always have to be all fight. sometimes it’s okay to back out and not take risks at all. sometimes it’s okay to run away and hide when the world gets too suffocating. and it takes bravery to do that too: to realize you don’t have to fight if you don’t want to. 

it’s not a coward thing to do. i don’t always have to strike to survive. and i don’t care if people equate not being bold enough--or not risking enough--to losing or being a failure. i’m now wise enough to know that the difference between someone brave and someone bold is that the former knows what battles to choose. and so: i think i’ll stick with being the former. [...]

[uniquecole-blog]

I believe in boys with sad eyes and soft smiles. I believe in girls who roar back at the thunder and still kiss like the first time they fell in love. I believe in the people who’s skin never felt like home to them, so they carved home out of the dust beneath their shoes and kept on going. I believe in all the ones who are told they don’t belong. I don’t think I belong either. I don’t know what it means to “belong” but I know the ones shouting have nothing to offer, that fitting in is the fad diet we’re all starving ourselves to. I believe in us. The ones who have never felt good enough. I believe in the girl next door, who likes to be called “her” but who woke up, today, with a gender that felt like hand spun wool and spilled milk, and who still doesn’t know how to tell her mother. I believe in the ones dating the wrong people so their parents won’t have to know who it is they want to love. I believe in a fear like that. I believe in the kindness of strangers and I believe that turning a blind eye isn’t what makes you bad. It only makes you scared like the rest of us. I believe people learn to be brave. I believe in the hands picking flowers as much as I believe in the hands that plant them. Because sometimes our hearts are too big for our bodies and they like to go bumping against each other— sometimes, love doesn’t mean what you think it does. You and I don’t love the same, but we are, all of us, out here loving. I believe in the collection of fingerprints you pick up from everything in the world you have ever touched. If I believe in anything, I believe that that is enough.

Faith, by Ashe Vernon 

[uniquecole-blog]

Dear friend,

All my life I’ve been trying to concentrate on the small things. The half-lit doorway of my brother’s room, the leftover soup on the kitchen counter, the muffled television sounds from the living room. The way the morning light dances its way in through the gaps in the blinds. In my mind there is a library full of these memories.

This is my escape mechanism, you see. I remember the trivial so I don’t have to think about the real and the brutal. And then I mold these things into hope, into life, until I begin to remember I am still alive.

But, friend, make no mistake: I am not writing this letter to tell you to do the same. In fact, I want to warn you against it. There is danger in leading a life the way I do. Because: remembering too much takes a toll on your sanity. Because: somewhere along the way you’d realize little things have the most weight. Because: they would anchor you down. Because: you’d drown.

I realize now that if I didn’t notice the world in such vivid detail, I’d be less lonely. But it’s too late to change, my friend—this habit is already too ingrained in me to break. I can’t save my life.

But I can try to save yours.

So here it is, friend, the point of everything I’ve been trying to tell you: the small things—they heal you as much as they break you. In the end, the trick is to learn what to cling to.

[uniquecole-blog]

I’ve always tried to make a home for myself, but I have not felt at home in myself. I’ve worked hard at being the hero of my own life. But every time I checked the register of displaced persons, I was still on it. I didn’t know how to belong. Longing? Yes. Belonging? No.

Jeanette Winterson, Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal? 

[uniquecole-blog]

anon things ~

hullo, you guys! i apologize for my lack of words/responses/everything lately i'm going through a really strange time in my life right now and i’m mostly just scrabbling around the place (re: tumblr/writing/school/life in general). 

but anyway, anyway! i hope you all are doing fine and having a wonderful day wherever you are (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Anonymous said: Are you in college?

yup, i'm currently in my junior year!

Anonymous said: Hi! What's your bday?

december 05! 

Anonymous said: Ang galing mo talaga Nicole 4ever mag-blog huhuhu ;;

Anonymous said: Your writing inspires me so much. I love it. Thank you. ❤️

huhu messages like these (no matter how simple) never get old :') thank you so much anons you are very kind

Anonymous said: Hi! Do you have an instagram and twitter?

IG, none; twitter: @_nicolecortez! 

Anonymous said: you are an amazing writer and I believe, an amazing person as well. which makes me wonder. do you happen to play any instrument? :)

thank you, anon! unfortunately, i don't hahahuhu i'm a loser irl

Anonymous said: what are your favorite taylor swift songs?

love story will always, always be special to me. but i love speak now (album) best!

Anonymous said: I miss viatadolce's writing. I think she's a friend of yours. Did she have her account deactivated or she just changed her url? :( -E

she just changed her url! hi bb @arriviaderci may nakakamiss sa'yo oh!!

Anonymous said: have you read blindness by jose saramago? is it good?

i have the book but i haven't read it yet huhu! i promise i'll get back to you once i finish it. :) i'm pretty sure it's good though - after all, it won the nobel prize!

[uniquecole-blog]

Pretty girl, wow. Pretty girl, smile. Pretty girl, on the pedestal. Pretty girl, everyone worships you. Pretty girl, here let me help you. Pretty girl, you can have my seat. Pretty girl, be polite. Pretty girl, can’t say no. Pretty girl, put on some make-up. Pretty girl, conceal. Pretty girl, skip that meal. Pretty girl, can’t be fat. Pretty girl, take care of that face. Pretty girl, always just seen by the surface. Pretty girl, alter your body. Pretty girl, molded by society. Pretty girl, hundred catcalls a day. Pretty girl, feels unsafe. Pretty girl, why are you so sensitive don’t be ridiculous. Pretty girl, keeps to herself. Pretty girl, cries at night. Pretty girl, not pretty enough. Pretty girl, insecure of other pretty girls. Pretty girl, why? Pretty girl, wake up. Pretty girl, make those voices shut up. Pretty girl, do what you want. Pretty girl, don’t let them tell you can’t. Pretty girl, you don’t deserve this adjective. Pretty girl, you are not. Pretty girl, you are so much more than that.

for girls whose lives are based on a single adjective, N.C. 

[uniquecole-blog]

Chase your dreams the way moths fly in circles towards bright lights: persistently, even through difficulty. It's so easy to be afraid when at any second your hopes, your plans, your life can all come burning down, when light can gnaw and pierce through your soul at its slightest touch--but you have to remember, darling, that taking a risk is what makes living worthwhile. So if you're going to dance around a fire, then let go of your inhibitions and dance until you're ashes. If you're going to die, then at least choose to burn alive.

things to take to heart, #23

[uniquecole-blog]

We are too restless to inherit this earth.

Jorie Graham, from “Still Life With Window and Fish,” Erosion