Why do I travel? I find myself asking that question over and over.

This was prompted by encounters with people who also travel. One travels because she loves animals and loves seeing them in their natural habitat. Another goes out of his way to participate in different festivals around the country. Another one got the bug from her father, and travels to immerse herself in the culture.

Why do I travel? It’s not for the animals, I’m not that much of an animal lover, though swimming with the whale shark was an awesome experience. It’s not because of the festivals, unless you count the Sydney Mardi Gras. It’s certainly not because of the culture, because culture for me starts and ends with food.

I find myself lacking the passion for traveling lately. I’ve carefully marked the dates when I’ll have a long weekend and planned on making the most out of them and going out of town. I already know the places I want to go to, but somehow, I can’t bring myself to finalize any plans. The days are coming and going, and I can’t decide whether to go. I’ve come to a decision several times, but I find myself changing my mind and stalling a bit more. Soon, May will be here and I will be left with nowhere to go.

And I don’t think that I’d mind that much. There are so many things on my mind lately, and the only thing I want to do is to escape. That’s why I travel I think. To escape. To leave my life for a moment and for a couple of days, live the life of another person. Only to come back to the same mess I left behind.

I’m always craving for something new. It doesn’t have to be overly exciting; change is enough excitement for me. I don’t really feel the need to travel right now; I just want to escape. And the place I want to escape to is the place that has always been labeled as the last place I want to travel to.

I never liked joining contests. I don’t like getting all excited, day dreaming of what I’d do with my prize and getting my hopes up only to have it crash back down because I didn’t win.

I’m never really competitive. I never thought I’m good at anything, so I never made any effort. Besides, I don’t like making effort. And I don’t like to lose.

But this year has been different. Since the start of 2008, I found myself actively joining contests online. There was this one contest where we had to submit photos from an event. Another contest asked for reasons why you should win. I made a serious effort for all my entries; I can’t allow myself to submit anything half-baked. It has to be good, and it has to be worthy to be called mine.

I never won. Not once. I am a bitter loser. Because of all the effort I put into my entry, I nitpick the other contender’s entries. I hate losing, specially if I know I did my best.

But I’ll never stop joining. As someone who hardly participates, I now find myself determined to win. To be recognized for my hard work.

I am changing. And I want to change.

Spending almost 6 months in Australia, followed by three months of non-stop gimmick drained me very well. I paid off a couple of debt and my monthly bills and was left with… almost nothing. -_-

To top it off, my flickr pro account is expiring (flickr just gave me three extra months of Pro goodness! I can put off worrying about this until June, but I won’t say no to the gift of flickr username: nina_theevilone ^_^), four of my domains are expiring in April, and I am running low on moo cards.

Kailangang kumayod!

And I better spend the rest of March at home -_- Oh crap, does that mean I can’t go to the gym this month as well? Gah.

I have a weird way of expressing (for lack of better word) my stress. I know I am stressed when I start singing out loud. I know I am near my breaking point when I fill my playlist with sappy 80’s love songs and sing out loud, with lyrics that I know by heart. That’s when I know I need to get out.

 
De-stressing usually involves me going out. Whether alone, with my friends or with my family. It doesn’t have to be very far, I just need to get out. I need to walk, to see people and to see the sky. More often than not, de-stressing means spending money. On food, on clothes, on things I don’t really need.

In a way, I use stress the way people sometimes use alcohol and drunkeness - an excuse. It’s an excuse for the way I acted, for the things I say. Coupled with PMS, me under stress is not someone you would want to cross.

When the stress (and PMS) has passed, I am much calmer. Gone are the negative vibes and murderous thoughts, in comes the fond reminiscing and gentle voice. Then I think back on my brash actions and harsh words. How I must have hurt people with the things I have said. I feel much regret over things that can’t be undone and words that I can’t take back, but in hindsight, I realize that I am merely expressing what I felt, and in the heat of the moment, I have blurted out what I really think.

I’ve deluded myself into thinking that I am a much better person now than I was four years ago. Actually, I *am* better now, except that I still haven’t totally shaken off some of the traits that drove my friends away. I guess some of them here to stay — the personality disorder and my friends.

It’s not often that I let go. I can be a control freak, even when I’m drinking copious amounts of alcohol. Liquor hardly ever taste good to me, but surprisingly, that evening everything tasted so good. It was great to throw caution in the wind and just drink. Being drunk gave me reason (or excuse) to act stupidly.

But I didn’t. Instead I went out, got some fresh air and drank a liter of water.

It was okay to imbibe, I think. Once in a while.

One way to get over someone is to think badly of them. Instead of wistfully remembering the good times you’ve had, think of all the times the other person has disappointed you.

But you know what? I don’t feel like writing how awful a person you are. No more negative vibes. I’ve had enough.