My Traffic Life

I am Mae German. 34 years old. Born in Mangatarem, province of Pangasinan. I was taught and trained by Juan Dela Cruz, and I am currently being trained for more by Uncle Sam. Writing since the age of 12. Blogging since 2001. I keep a notebook and a pen in my bag, on my bedside table, and inside the bathroom. Misses a lot. Sometimes even my own voice. Loves to laugh. Sometimes even at myself. I am a work in progress. My ultimate dream is to be a SAHM. That is, if I am bound to have that chance in this lifetime... and I am.

My Traffic Rules

Don't take my words personally. At times, not even literally. This is my journal. You're my reader. My spectator. Applaud. Yawp. Yawn. Smile. Frown. Rave. Rant. Or not. Neither can I see you from where I am standing nor can I hear you.

This is not my life. Maybe just a part of it. But this is me meandering through life. My emotions fluctuate. My opinion varies. If it's too hot in here and you can't take it, leave. If it's dull and too cold, go somewhere else for warmth. I won't wipe the frown on your brow.

My stories, unless stated otherwise, are mostly fictional. Fiction could be based on reality. Still, they are fiction. Don't own it. Don't live in it. It is what it is. Leave it.

Watch out for the traffic light. Follow the rules. Cruise.

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In these days and probably at your age, when innocence had been long gone and reality have sunk in, it is not easy to have a restful mind. It is not easy not think of your worries. It is not easy to stop your mind from wondering and wandering on how your day was the other day or how your day is going to be today. It is not easy not to think of that person who made your day miserable yesterday. Not easy not to think of madness, of vanity, of self-esteem.

When was the last time you have spent 15-full-minutes without thinking of the outside world? That had been (and still is) my own challenge.

Ever since C gave me this white-gold rosary ring for my 33rd birthday (I actually got it in advanced), it has reminded me of that precious 15-minute (or so) that I could spend worry-free. By committing my travel time to work in saying the rosary, I have been releasing myself from the burden of having something to think about-- things that won't even help me get through with the day. And slowly, to go back to reality, I pray for those people I care about.

It is not easy. I am not good in meditations. Even if I shut the door and stay inside a room, oftentimes, I would find myself wandering. My 15 minutes would sometimes exceed to 30. But I know my effort is not going to waste. I do not have any idea how my day would be without this.

[Romans 8:26]-- We do not know how to pray... but the Spirit itself intercedes.

God doesn't need our prayers. WE need prayers. God doesn't need our 15 minutes. Truth is, WE need more than 15 minutes.

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