Sunset Viewing 

creative writing, literary, literature, photography, poetry, prose, travel, words

Out of the blue, a voice from the cheery spirit of me spoke inside my head as I recalled one late afternoon. I was consumed by the vague, distant beginning at the end of my eyes’ perspective. Now here, I’d like to listen to that positive side once again ;this feels like I have all these small boats to make the view less empty, that perhaps there is progress and things probably start to emerge; however, I can sometimes remain impatient for when does my ship show it sail?- this can make me sick, seeing the same small boats when I’ve been waiting for my ship that I would rather not hope anymore when the clouds are so hazy.But the voice pulls me back: ” you may storm away with repetitive disappointment but dare to consider that if you turn your back on that horizon now, you might miss the view when your ship finally arrives and it ends up not catching up with you.” 

-Nicola An

Happy Valentine’s Day 

literary, literature, love, photography, poem, poetess, poetry, words, writer, writing

Shorter version of a #poem I wrote almost 4 years ago; just happened to visit my first online #poetry account the other day and found this, sublimity and #bliss washed over me when I read it again[I even forgot I wrote this piece] and thought of sharing it this #Valentines Day. I hope #TRUELOVE finds you! 💖

-Infinitely,

Nicola An

To Wander Without Feeling Lost 

creative writing, literary, literature, photo, photography, prose, spiritual, travel, words, writer, writing

Yesterday,I was overflowing with mirth being able to run some errands across the island without having the pain of fighting for a consent, been blessed to be working for a boss who also encourages capabilities not only as an employee but as an individual.

It was a spontaneous task but it was a grand idea I fully accepted. While traveling alone is almost a mundane routine to some, to me it was a rare opportunity; being the youngest sometimes feels strangling when trusting your growth to be independent lags behind, it is understood that parents can’t easily let go especially when you become the “last one left”-this teaches me to no longer resent.

But for whatever reason I made it yesterday, thank you for that one day, freedom isn’t wanting to run away at all, it is returning to existence, solitude is the only path to true consciousness, sometimes you just have to walk your own footsteps then you’ll be surprised ’cause only when you walk alone you can pay attention.

Never knew that it was possible to just wander without feeling lost, to exist without fears. Thank you,thank you,thank you!

-Infinitely,

Nicola An

Christmas Wish

buddhism, creative writing, literary, literature, love, photo, photography, poem, poetess, poetry, spiritual, words, writer, writing

A #christmaswishlist : WORLD PEACE. Though you may say it’s a folly to wish for it and it’s a swollen righteousness of oneself to ask for it, I would still dare affirm that we can achieve it. Let’s not only talk about the ceasefire, the safety from mass killing and freedom from slavery, let’s look at our basic destructive ways of how we mostly live now which commence the torrent of violence and torture. We are oblivious, in denial as we subconsciously refuse to acknowledge our involvement in wars and ruins. The oneness of our existence despite the diversity aims to nurture the world;therefore, we connect in every aspect,every phase and every form. This is a wish for #worldpeace through the end of your resentments-our anger and collective defensiveness to generate #love and eliminate spite. Remember that you are an #energy, a contagious and influential force, be an #energy of peace! The #earth is a vulnerable thing, it yields to what you offer. 

Merry Christmas, have faith in your #light 🌌 🌌 -Yours truly,Nicola An

Writing Dilemma

creative writing, literary, literature, mainstream, photography, poem, poetess, poetry, popular, prose, words, writer, writing

It is a quietly disturbing dilemma; there is a sudden point when you shun your routine or habit though it’s been your shoulder to lean on.I still haven’t claimed being a “writer” despite writing on a regular basis. 

Sometimes they look up because you are a “mountain of difficult words and aesthetic language”, sometimes they degrade ’cause you are a “wretched soul with a head full of old-fashioned mush”,worse when their game is making judgments such as you’re acting as if you’re better than anyone,and you’re just trying to be a worldwide preacher.It is good to be listened to,a human pleasure.But to be a “writer” is to be just a singer because you can sing a song, a painter ’cause you can run the brush across the canvas.It’s a risk to write down and when one writes it’s not a mastery of words.In my case,never been outspoken and there are things that take sitting down for a period of time until you’re making sense so you take down the notes from your own contemplation, and I’ve come to be aware that maybe #socialmedia has been dominating, we’re too stolen by the wanting of immediate exposure. Lately,I’ve been doubting if I’m writing for myself still while discussing the eruption of happenings keeping me hungry for answers, or for people who identify me as the “writer”,you know the substance of something loses when it becomes an object to attract attention. Oh God,don’t know where I walk here,just wanna say I am afraid my journey is beginning to get shallow when what I do is falling into the ego’s childish interest.I am uncomfortable thinking that it will be just the words and flowery construction readers will be after,then I guess it is just the pressure from expectations and anxiety about what they make out of who you are by what you tell. Yet I rely also on the idea that there are people out somewhere who need solutions and lessons, those who seek the same clarity and awakening…

*Sighs* I think I am torn between wishing to reach out and wanting to rest away from the distorted verdict of the world.

-Nicola An

Come What May

photography, spiritual, writing

​Like a homeless child being transported into a strange land, today was the day I felt as though taking a step was the first time I had to learn how to walk. Static and disoriented, drifting and drifting. “What’s in the bottom of the wide open sea? Should I remain musing on the shore or should I plunge even if the depth is such a frightening unknown?” As a resolution, my own uttered words came with the encouraging voice of the wind “IF I AM NOT DOING ANYTHING ABOUT IT,IF I AM STILL #WAITING,I AM AFRAID I’M ALREADY SPENDING THE REST OF MY LIFE WAITING”

Come•What•May•

11/27/’16

My mother took this picture anyway

-Nicola