Do you sometimes feel like you’re a shitty, wasted creature who overthinks everything, is melodramatic over achievements or the lack thereof and with a ridiculously fluctuating level of confidence/insecurities? It can be pimple-causing, insomnia-inducing, bulimia-provoking stage of life, but let me tell you girlfriend, it’s hardly life threatening. The truth is, we’re a little less shitty than we think. It’s just…you know, maybe a more hideous case of PMS? Actually, it’s the 20-something blues and hey, as long as you’re not writing a suicide note, it’s completely normal.


Photo Credit: geomphotography via Compfight cc

Being at your 20’s is a transition stage between the delightful teenage years to terrifying adulthood. It can sometimes be pretty disappointing and challenging. It isn’t an easy-peasy walk in the park while chomping on cotton candy. At times, it’s more like half running on a messy park with your prosthetic legs in 6-inch stiletto heels. It’s when reality welcomes you with an enormous banner saying “Hey, guess what! Unicorns Don’t Exist!” Sucks, right? I mean, it’s unfair that unicorns are not real. They’re awesome! Specially the pink ones.

Anyway, no matter how it sucks to be on the verge of adulthood, let’s not deny that it also offers amazing perks. Girl, it will do your soul good if you focus on the pluses rather than the downers. So beat the blues, chill out and read on:


You’re a princess who care less about fancy crowns and chocolate-covered strawberries. You’re a princess who is more responsible, independent, level-headed (maybe not so, but it’s okay), brave to take risks, bold enough to make mistakes and learn from it. You’re more a princess now than you were during your grumpy teenage years.


Since you’re now a princess, you have a ginormous chances to meet your prince. Being broken-hearted is in the cards but it will be worth it. Besides, pain makes you stronger and strong is always sexy. (wink!)


 You’re not close enough to live it but you’re getting there. It can be frustrating, discouraging, infuriating even. Our pride shouts the need to rush, try to resist it, my restless friend.  Breathe. Take it easy. One step at a time. We’ll get there.


Hard to believe? I understand. I’ve missed a lot of opportunities because I was a scaredy-cat, jumping at the sight of risk or I was too engrossed dreaming about big breaks that I didn’t recognize the little ones that might have led me to it. Look around you with an open-mind and accepting heart, you’re currently surrounded by opportunities, darling.


Too much of reality can be overwhelming though, so keep a healthy dosage of fantasy in your heart. But enjoy life as it is, without unicorns and everything. Reality is enough to make you incredibly happy if you let it.


This stage of life means inevitably facing terrifying exhilarating and breath-taking happenings beyond our wildest teenage dreams. Isn’t that cool?

Ladies, let us relish every dang moment of being a young adult. Don’t let this stage pass by without a heap of experiences to be proud of and to be embarrassed about. Let’s be melodramatic and overacting all we want, no problem. I wish you all the exciting, unforgettable, distressing and heart-breaking events in your journey. :-*

Please share us your inspiring adventures as 20-something down in the comments. It will be TERRIBLY appreciated. :)








Chasing a Firefly

I’m on my bed, waiting for the snooze fairy to kiss me sweet dream. There’s a firefly over my head, fluttering playfully. Glowing seductively. I shut my eyes, but the firefly’s stunning gleam goes through my closed lids. It shines vibrantly. I can almost feel it’s warmth as if there’s a real pea-sized fire floating in the air. 
I lie on my stomach, count a hundred sheep, sing a lullaby and basically do everything to ignore that pretty little flying creature. But it’s still there, growing even more alluring. Then it hits me why the thing affects me incredibly – I want it! I want to have it. Seize it.
Telepathically, I hear a tiny voice saying, “Hey, my friend! Get up now and catch me. I’m meant to be yours but the hunt won’t be easy.”
I get on my feet. There’s a burning motivation in my chest; a painful desire’s growing in my head.
In my mind I reply, “I’m ready for the chase.”
Chasing a Firefly
Photo Credit: Sherri DuPree Bemis via Compfight cc
With that, I hop out of bed and run after it. I scurry, dash and stretch my arms to reach it. I touch its blazing-butt, but it always slides from my fingertips. Man, this firefly is awfully elusive!
I keep going. I run faster than I ever did. At the back of my mind I can feel the path I’m on changing from smooth highway to rocky hill, the scent from fuel-infested to meadow-perfumed, the air from thick and heavy to light and breezy. Rain drizzles, sun glimmers, snow trickles but I don’t dare take my focus away from my firefly. “I’m gonna get you!”
I scamper until every inch of my muscle feels sore and my lungs feel like bursting. My hair has never been this tangled. My lips have never been this chapped. Every move makes me frustrated. So finally I give in; exhaustion gets the best of me. I stop and breathe hungrily as if all the air in the world is still insufficient. To my surprise, the firefly also stops. It’s waiting for me.
Then, a man with thinning grey hair and beard appears beside me. Whoa, this guy is the epitome of wise-with-age human being. Kinda like Einstein meets Dumbledore.
I brace myself for something like, “My dear naïve child, don’t you know that force is equals to mass multiplied by acceleration (f = ma)?” or maybe, “After all to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure.”
But instead, he smiles widely and says, “Hello young traveller. You’ve gone quite far. Tell me about the beautiful places you’ve seen, will you?”
“I-I-I’ve never seen any,” I say, a little breathlessly. I realize I’m in the middle of wilderness – wildflowers, enormous trees and all that.
“Oh. Ho-ho,” he laughs amusedly, “how did you get here, then?”
“I’ve been chasing a firefly”, I point to it sitting on a leaf. “It brought me here”.
“Fireflies do that, yes,” he stares at me omnisciently. “They’ll bring you to many wonderful places. Bumpy roads, majestic bridges…you should’ve seen that gorgeous waterfall!”
“I was so caught up in getting the firefly; I didn’t care about anything else.” I say a bit regretfully.
“Sweetheart, getting the firefly won’t be worth it if you don’t relish every bit of the process,” he says gently. “Enjoy the chase. Feel the heat and the cold. Take a breath. Rest if you’re tired. Cry if you must. Then, keep going. The firefly will never leave you because it’s in your heart.”
His voice pierces through my veins. It makes my eyes water. I say, “Right. So, when will I finally get the firefly?”
He smiles patiently, “Does it matter? Once you learned to love the chase, ‘when’ won’t matter as much.”
I expect a real, straightforward answer. “Okay. So, how exactly –
But the man is gone. Vanished from thin air. Seriously? How many times have I read and watched such cliches?
With new perspectives, I carry on with my pursuit. The firefly is soaring tantalizingly before me. I gasp at every lake, every skyscraper, and every landscape. I meet people – kind ones, rude ones, unbelievable ones. I trip over some bumps. I fall face down and dust myself up. I sing, dance and cry several times.
All these, but the firefly is still evasive as ever. Maybe it’s not meant to be mine after all? Maybe I should just forget about it. I mean, I could live without it, couldn’t I? In my heart, I know how important it is to me. But sometimes, you have to give up some things.
I turn my back, look down at my feet and start walking away. My shoulders are drooped with discouragement. Then I hear a buzzing.
I look up and there I see the firefly circling over my head. It hovers high up…up…up… I’m stunned as I watch it somersaulting in the air. It dives and lands…right at the tip of my nose. I’m staring at it cross-eyed.
I hear its tiny voice says, “Didn’t I tell you I’m meant to be yours? And oh, speaking of meant to be…” it giggles flirtatiously.
I blink and adjust my eyesight. There’s a blur in front of me. Slowly the image becomes clear and tangible — a solid human form.
A boy, probably about my age with scruffy black hair and hazel brown eyes, is staring at me. He looked as mystified as I am. His mouth half smiling in what I think is an amused and bewildered way.


A firefly is also resting at the tip of his nose. 

Hidden In A Sacred Place

One night I went to a place

Far from city lights and noises

Away from the hurried pace

Up in the purple mountain

It’s crest concealed behind the clouds

I flowed into an iridescent cave

Greeted by shining diamonds and rubies

In the farthest corner, I veiled my own jewels

My precious, precious dreams

I’ll keep it hidden in that sacred place

Photo Credit: Maxie Headroom via Compfight cc

Photo Credit: Maxie Headroom via Compfight cc


I went up the highest tree

Tiptoed over the edge of its emerald leaf

And behold the beauty before me

I let the gentle whispers of the wind

Tickle my ears with sweet verses

I leave with a promise of return

When the uncertainties have been faced

And the fears have been dealt

I’ll take back my gems

Unharmed from that sacred place


Let’s put our glass slippers on for Blog Hop!

It’s been six months since I sailed on a journey to the infinite virtual world – the blogosphere. I’m nowhere near the middle of my cruise; there’s a boundless stream stretching before me. I’m a novice traveller – occasionally hungry, lost and clueless. The good thing is this world never runs out of magic. Once upon a time, I bumped into a bunch of generous fairies willing to share their knowledge, offer encouragement, and impart some kick-ass advice. One of those fairies (though I’m not sure he’ll like to be referred as fairy :) ) is Johnny who invited me to join in the Blog Hop. 

I was a bit hesitant at first because all the others who are participating are already great at their crafts. They’re talking about the next book they’ll be publishing while I’m struggling to write my first sentence. Johnny told me, “just be yourself and you’ll tell great stories.” Those words take the pressure off knowing that I don’t have to create make-believe stories of impressive achievements to be able to tell great stories. I just have to be myself – my clueless, struggling self. So with that said, I’m in for Blog Hop!

It’s time to get to know the one I should be grateful of– Johnny (who is secretly a fairy):


Johnny Bravo is in the business of helping professionals sell their brands and take their careers to the next level. Businesses and professionals in every industry come to him for best practices in sales, networking and professional brand development.

You can find him at or follow him on Twitter and connect on LinkedIn and Google+

Now take a peek at my wonderful and challenging writing journey:

What am I working on?

I wish I could say my publisher’s printing my book while I’m writing my next, but who am I kidding? I’m not yet there. Not right this moment, but I’ll get there someday. Someday soon…

Focussing back on the present, I’m doing a lot of ghost writing for numerous event websites to keep me afloat. Additionally, I’m working on perking up Regal Flair.I’m also writing a fantasy love-story for the sake of pleasure. I might post the plot here once I’m done editing.

How does my work differ from others of its genre?

Every writer has a unique writing style but I’m not sure what exactly make my work different from others. Hell, I’m not even sure how to define my voice.

Let me try though. Someone told me my writing is fun and magical and it hits me: “fun and magical” is what I’ve been aiming to be my brand. I adore writers who can hold you captivated in a different world they created through their words. I wanted to be like them – but different.

My work is quite imperfect – not sure if it’s a good thing but it’s what makes it different. It’s like a young woman with a scruffy hair mingling with others who are in a smartly tied bun. Or a painting with rough edges and odd hues lined up with perfectly polished works of art. 

Why do I write what I do? 

I’ve been writing materials which requires technicality long before I started this blog. I realized I was writing in auto pilot. I was writing just so my atm card would get loaded up every end of the month. It felt awfully meaningless. I was becoming stiff and I hated it. I was losing the joy of writing.

So my decision to write what I now do was fired up with the desire to claim my passion back. I want to fall back in love with writing by letting my imaginations do the work. I wanted to write in my own way, pour my heart out and just be free.

How does your writing process work?

Once the muse strikes, I hit my laptop. Stare at the blank screen. Chase the ideas rebelliously floating in my head. Get frustrated over the first few sentences. Get even more frustrated ignoring the resistance and distractions. Type the words out with all the speed I can muster.

After 300 or so words, I already gain momentum and writing is a bliss. Ahh, my favourite part! This is when writing becomes spellbinding. This is when I drift into my mind, floating with words. Then once I get over the effects of spell; it’s time to crop, trim and modify my messy output.

I change what needs to be changed, add some details, subtract adjective overload and try to make it better. Not perfect but better.The length of time I spend doing all these ranges from an hour to three days, depending on my satisfaction and uhm, mood. 

To keep the Blog Hop hopping, I have to tag three bloggers but the other one had to back out. I’m happy I’ve got these two amazing bloggers for you to meet: 

Liz Long

A lover of life, laughter, colour and how language fits in around it all. A previous student in linguistics, and recently re-discovering her passion for creative story-telling, she is fascinated by how language can alter our perceptions, paint vivid pictures, and appreciates the fine art and craft that is creative word-play.”

You can have a fun read of her works at

Brooke Brunson

My name is Brooke Brunson and I am a freelance writer/blogger living in Philadelphia. Besides writing poetry and articles for my blog and different magazines, I also work part-time as a parking cashier at Children’s hospital of Philadelphia. In my spare time I also like to draw and travel.                                              

                 For more info you can catch me on my blog at



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Whenever I look at the stars I can’t help getting into poetic mood. Whenever I look at them, I’m instantly spellbound. Seriously, what is it with those gleaming dots? I see them every night yet I’m not immune to their effects. They’re magical, hypnotic even. With that said, here’s a very short product of the said mood:


Millions of silver flecks scattered over an infinite dark canvass

Reflecting in my eyes, piercing through my soul

The simplicity and intricacy of it all

Makes me wonder how great their Creator is


A single dot cannot light a tiny chamber

Together, they illuminate an entire cosmos

The depth of their glow is unfathomable

For mere mortals, it’s beyond the possible