the process of transformation from an immature form to an adult form in two or more distinct stages.
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Can we highlight the "from an immature form to an adult form"? It's not like I'm super claiming that I've leaped from one stage to another and that I've totally given birth to a new, stranger me. Nahhhh, that was not it. That is so far from the case. But still, I know I've changed, and I'm loving and embracing every pigment of change that's happening. In fact, I'm anxious -- more than anxious to things that are about to happen, I'm kind of excited of how everything will unfold and whatnot. Okay. Too much riddles, isn't it? I know. Let's get down to business then. People age, that's a fact -- an inevitable fact. And comes with aging is our propensity to grow. Some blossom to be like a spring vegetation that is set to give beauty and splendor to the land, some choose to be stagnant and remain at the very vantage point that they've been accustomed to, and others decline to grow but tend to break into shreds upon aging. Well, that is life. For one thing, my fascination to an old flame has finally come to a halt. I ended up realizing that it was just that -- a mere fascination. Something that is superficial and fictional, something that does not have assurance. He was nothing but a mirage. And now I know someone who's real, someone tangible. I'm learning, I'm coping, I'm loving. The best thing so far is I've accomplished/written a story again! Super yeyyy to me for that. My mind is still working after all. My hands aren't dysfunctional after all. My dreams are still intact after all. My passion is still burning after all. Nakssss... Such a speech.. Haha.. And my writings depict my more mature take on life, on events, on relationships, on time. My writings tackle about emotion, those that I find hard to utter, those that I find impossible to share to a soul. My poems are no longer about petty crushes in the university, rather they're about feeling hurt, feeling loved, returning love, feeling hurt again. That was just that vicious cycle that I've been to the past days. And still, I'm learning. And I adjust. I am willing to compromise, something I have never thought I will ever do before. I am starting to discover that I am not the strong woman I thought I am, and I am loving this new-found weakness. Being mature is embracing every weak bone in you and finding the humility to reach for the strong muscle that is being lent your way to patch that scarred ego. Being mature is learning to listen not just to voices, but to silence per se. Silence nags at us the worst and makes us realize how the noises are really so senseless at times. Maturity is being able to recognize love and then reciprocating it thereafter without holding back -- loving selflessly that is. Maturity is finding the right words when everyone's shouting at each other. It is braving to be silent even though you've got tons to say.
I am at the echelon where I have the liberty to make choices that I see fit. And I chose this, them, him, us. While I don't know about tomorrow, I'll enjoy today. I'll smile today, 'cause I've been in the smiling mood for quite some time now. Don't want to spoil today by cramming to prepare for what's yet to come. See, maturity is living in the "now" and making the most of it. -Tups
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