We’re a team and you don’t let your teammates down.

We train because we’re not the best yet. We’ve won countless matches already, one step closer to the championship but nowhere near it. One step closer to the finish line but we both know that one wrong move, one wrong pass, one miscalculation and everything can fall apart. Well not everything, we both know that we’re stronger than that.

We were both born fighters. Born and bred to fight for whatever it is that we believe in. Born and bred to face adversity head on. Born and bred to be resilient, persistent, and determined.

We have this sickness, this festering disease that we refuse to cure. It plagues us both, it hangs over our heads, and soon enough a coup de grace will be delivered and we will no longer have the power to deny it. They give us salves and potions but we refuse to take it. We’re stubborn that way.

We can’t win anymore matches if we’re sick. We can’t be the best because we’re not at our best. We can’t take another step because we need to rest. The race isn’t finished yet but we can no longer go on.

I’m about to throw in the towel, I’m about to step out of the race, but suddenly you grab my hand and you look at me and I stare back at you. I look at you and I see fresh wounds; I see the scars you’ve licked clean, I see the broken parts of you that only I can see, I see how battered and bruised you are. Are you giving up too? No. We both know that you aren’t.

You’re staring back at me because you’re sizing me up. Am I your opponent now? You can take me on, you know it; but you know you won’t win and you know that I won’t either.

I pull you up but your knees give out and you stay on the ground. I hesitate and I look at you then I look at my hands, my bruised and scarred hands; I’m sick too. I feel a rush to run towards the end of the line on my own but instead I fall down on my knees and stay on the ground with you.

We start crawling towards the end; we feel the dirt and gravel pierce our skin with every move we make. We both feel the hot flashes of pain but we both refuse to cry out. I watch you in the corner of my eye and I know that your eyes are on the prize. I laugh because I realize that I forgot what we were fighting for.

I keep crawling refusing to acknowledge the flashes of pain. I know you’re doing the same.

Somehow we get to the end and I look at you, you’re starting to look a little bit better. Is that relief in your eyes? You’ve licked more of your wounds clean while I wasn’t looking. I see bits of you sticking out and I patch you up before you grab my hand and start walking towards a place you promised me.

We could give up now but we choose not to. We’re beaten up but we’re not broken. We’re tired but then we realize that we’ve made promises that we intend to keep/

I consider this a bit dark and well, it’s about the dark times people go through in their relationships. I’d love to hear what you think about it!


Did I do this right?

I’ve been pushing this assignment aside for a few days now because I don’t know what to write, but maybe it’s time to finally face this assignment and nip it in the butt. I kept avoiding this homework because I didn’t really know what to write down and more importantly, who to write to. I don’t know who my ideal reader is so I don’t exactly know what to write. I know that I want to develop my skills to lead me to my dream of becoming a food blogger but I’m going to be honest when I say that I don’t even know the first thing about food blogging. So I won’t be writing to my future “foodies” but I will be writing to anyone out there willing to read my blog.

My dream reader is just a reader. A fresh pair of eyes seeing the world through my blog.

So my dear reader, I hope you tune in and keep an open mind about the things I’ll be writing. Also! Don’t be shy to comment or give me your side on things. Opinions are greatly appreciated! I’d love to build a healthy relationship with you AND a very interactive one too!

Who am I and Why am I here?

Who am I? This is the question that actually has me on the run. I honestly do not know what to write down. I can’t exactly tell you who I am but I guess, I’ll just try to cover the basics and hope you get to know me more in my future posts.

My name is Tash, I’m a towering 5 feet and a half-inch human being that aims to be a chef. I also have a lot of opinions and sometimes, my journal just isn’t enough. Sometimes I need the world to know what I’m trying to say and sometimes I need more perspective from others.

I’ve had a few blogs before but I eventually stopped using those blogs because I forget about it or I get too lazy. But not this time! This blog is for my opinions and my experiences. I want to be able to share my life with the world and maybe JUST MAYBE inspire someone out there.

I’m here to express, be heard, and most importantly learn. I’m not so confident in my writing YET and I want to BE confident. Writing is something that I’ve always wanted to become good at but never had the chance, maybe because of fear. I fear of rude criticisms that may possibly affect my ego and force me to retreat back to the pages of my journal that’s for my eyes only. Which brings us to the question of “Why am I here?”

I’m here because I have dreams. I have dreams of owning a cafe and running my own successful food blog. By “successful” I mean, I want people to read my opinion on food, where and what to eat because they trust my judgement. I don’t want to be just a chef that owns a cafe, I want to be a chef that writes about the gastronomic experiences that I’ve had too! I don’t want to limit myself to just one field, I want to reach beyond that.

I’m here because I want to be here. To learn the crafts of the trade and to express myself in a form that I’ve always wanted to undertake.