Right at this moment, a lot of people are living their lives for the first time. They are again babies – new creations in a special way, by choice. It may have been a turning point from a dark life, a waking up from delusion or as simple as letting go of a bad habit which led them anew. Everyone likes new beginnings. We like to feel that where we’re going is better than where we’ve been one way or another. It gives us direction.

 

It’s interesting to know that Life has its way of teasing our decisions. Reminders are just around us when we least need them. But it’s all right. It’s a way of reminding us of the old life or way that we just left. And it either builds  or it pulls us back.

 

Again, it’s a matter of choice.

Ito na ang ultimate bonding experience.

katabi ko ngayon ang aming Bunso. at kami'y nagtatawanan dahil sa mga walang kuwentang bagay sa internet, i.e. friendster ng mga kaklase niya, pictures ng kung anuano, atbp.

WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

=') nakakaiyak hehehe.

my other younger brother just bought his pair o' Piranhas. (Red Belly) everyone's so excited over them hehe.

that's for now. 2 days left for 2005!

the butterfly said: "It was well worth it!" referring to the long and dark days it spent inside the cocoon.

hahaha corny. i feel like i'm seeing light. though it's not of the morning. (means i'm still an owl..) but anyway, bye gloom.

_ _

Spaces in the Sentence

*Flashes*
How long have you been here?
Two weeks. You?
Three days. I’ve seen it coming. Several times actually. But it seems like it was just passing by.
Yeah, seen it too. But it felt too fast. And too familiar.
Familiar?
Yeah. It felt like it was just gonna lead eventually here. Again.
Oh.
It gets kind of tiring, y’know.

 

  
I don’t quite get you, sorry.
How many times have you been here?
Oh… I, uhm, never noticed… have you?
Can’t count anymore.

 

  
Aren’t you afraid of this place?
I was. Until everything came too familiar that I pass by almost just like getting into a door every now and then. It’s routine. I’m numb.

 

Are you scared?
*sigh*
Of what?
I don’t know. Of this place, initially.

 

Then, of myself.
I’m numb.
I’m scared.

 

  
How does it feel?
To be numb? *laughs*
*laughs*

 

  
Yeah?

 

I don’t know.

 

Whenever I get out, it’s a brighter light out there. It always feels greater.
Greater?
Than the last time I got out. And it goes up endlessly.
Oh. Yeah, I felt that way. It’s like you learn something new.
No, it’s the same thing. You just learn deeper.
Deeper?
Yes. We’re too stubborn to learn about anything just once.
Oh.

 

  
You know so much, do you?
Oh, no...

 

  
Do you?
Well, I’m still learning – I mean, I do. But not much.
I thought, too. Until everything led me just here. And everytime I get out, I learn that I don’t know as much as I thought I did.
Oh.

 

  
Do you always believe what you’re told?
Uh… depends if they make sense. Why?
Nothing.

 

  
Don’t.

 

  
Some that make sense are meant to steal something from you.
Steal? Like what?

 

  
Ignorance.

 

Oh.

 

  
You’re scaring me.
I’m sorry.
No, I meant not that way. It’s just… weird.

 

Weird is good.

 

 

  
*Squints* Oh there’s the light! We’re off! *smiles*

 

 

Aren’t you coming?
Not yet.
Whoa – two weeks?
Can’t go yet.
Oh – ok.

 

May I ask why?
I don’t know, either. I just know I can’t go yet.
Ok.

 

Thank you.
Sure.

 

 
Oh, another thing…they steal something else…
What?

 

  
Innocence.

 

*Darkness*

_ _

I wrote this article on Aug6 05. Kinda reminds me, I've been here really often. haha!

Christmas eve in a few hours. (It's 2:37 am here) I can feel the Spirit. Thank You , Jesus. =)

Merry Christmas to all!

Just came from Al’s. AITO bonding.
Still on my owl mode, as Ma put it. With the black design around my eyes.
Honest, I’ve learned to love the stillness of the wee. The world at rest, innocent and peaceful.
Kim is leaving on the 15^th of January. To Samui, Thailand. She’s never been there. But she hopes to go with the promise of a better job and higher pay.  I guess another one of those who leave the country in search for a better future.
First, it was Oli. Then Ava. Then Kim. Hmmm wonder who’s next?

I still hold on to my ideal – there is hope for the Philippines. But I’m starting to negotiate, if it seems too far for the next ten years, then I better pack my stuff with them. *sigh* It hurts when you let go of your ideals. Hah conditional love!

But I’ll surely come back. I will.


 

_ _

 

It's a barrage, this four-posts-in-a-night thing. I guess I'm trying to make up hehe!

 

To those who know me personally, we have our secrets here. Keep them, please. Much appreciated. =)

 

 

 

 

Still nocturnal. Feel like I’m getting out of my hole, though. Just a little more while.

 

And while letting my sanity suspend for a while, and simultaneously exchanging wits with my good friend Pabs, I let this piece fluidize.

 

 

I’ve been thinking a lot about my dreams. What they are, where the others went, how many seem too far beyond reach now. It’ll be a good three months before I get hold of my diploma. And from there, I know not much. The board’s still terrifying me, but it’s just as any other exam, only the gravity of the results – I’ll get past it somehow. Engineer Elliot seems too heavy for me now, with my grades not too confident for me. Or at least it’s not how I wanted to learn the profession. Civil might be more home than Chemical.
_

 

My first dream was to become a doctor. One who knows so much about our own biological systems. Second was to become a scientist. (Well, I didn’t know then how broad the profession the term referred to.) But my deepest dream, which came too late, is to become an architect. I just love beautiful structures. Close to it is civil engineering.

 

Or I could become an advertiser. I like selling from behind the curtains. I like posters, streamers and commercials. I like innovations.

 

I could also be an actor. And become many other people without being thought insane. Be able to travel through places, people and time. Through minds of many characters created by other’s minds.

 

I could be an artist. Who puts Life with all its beauty into lines, curves and colors. Capture light and paste it on canvas. Keep water flowing like life on a piece of paper or cloth. Touch the world through my pen or brush.
_

 

These, I have long tried to kiss goodbye to each moment I look around and see where I stand. I couldn’t afford these dreams. Or at least not anymore. My dream now is compulsory – to finish in time, do well in the board exam, find a high-paying job, let my mom retire, and help my younger brothers build their own lives. At least that’s how I see it in the next five or six years. After that, it will be a revolution.

 

Marie knows so much about the world outside, I know she wouldn’t let me be stuck on this country. This rotting country, she says, while I still have my hopes high.

 

It’s an ocean of uncertainty, out there. School is over soon. And I mean it’s over. Not like I have some next level to look to like in grade school to high school, and high school to college. I’m 21 and I feel like I’ve just started to get to know myself.

 

*Sigh* Growing up. It’s complicated.

 

And oh, before I forget, I have another dream. A dream quite forbidden for Ma and Marie to hear. And which I am finding hard to shrug off.

 

I want to be a priest. A life given solely for my Creator. A life led to lead others to care. A life given for others, just like Jesus.

 

 

But then again, I’m not allowed to dream such dreams.

Still awake. Still one of those nights I just can’t sleep through. It was quite a day, though. A bad start revealed a fruitful day. Anna’s worship, Lisette’s reflection, YE BLD model meeting – all were Spirit filled.
And I’m back here in my bubble now. Where I’d learned to love being alone. In the dark.
Freaky, huh?
God, take me back.
Seems I have been damning myself over this obsession that I can’t let go of. But is it really all that defines me?
Hours ago we were discussing things about faith, and the constructs that surround it – religion and the walls that it has successfully built around everyone. I’m a bit happy to think that I was voicing my ideas and beliefs as if no one’s allowed to step on them. Maybe I am braver. Or was it Kuya Jet’s open mind?
Years ago I remember, missing Sunday mass meant going to hell. And so does lying. And hurting people’s feelings. And so many other things that are not allowed to be done by a catholic. As I was taught, or so I’ve heard, since I was young.
Looking at me now, it seems I’ve changed a lot. And I say, A LOT. And little by little, I’m learning to accept these changes. Not to disown my past beliefs, but to claim that I’ve known better.
Growing up, it seems, is like going around a beautiful garden over and over again. Just like the rolling of a year with its months and seasons. You see a lot more each time you round. Some you’d like, or even love. Some you’d hate. But most of the time, it’s something that you were bound to see, sooner or later, and things just won’t be like it used to be, for the better or for the worse.
 
I’d like to think that learning isn’t of any worse. It’s simply seeing more, so in essence, you know more. And it’s always better to see more of where you move about right?
It’s much like being in a part of that garden, and the lights are turned on, but not completely. And wisdom comes with every new light that sheds away ignorance about the world you move about. It is simply being able to look more closely at the things around you. And that’s why sometimes, you feel like you know something, but you can’t seem to understand it completely because it’s still in the dark.
It’s an interesting revelation when you realize that it’s a really big garden you’re moving about. So big, there are points that you can’t reach. And there will come a point when you’d realize you have to make a choice on which path to travel. And because of the infinite space existing, it’s very hard to go back and start anew. So you better choose well.
I’m quite relieved here, y’know. Having put these sparks into words. I realize that it’s not really that bad. Let me change what I wrote just an hour ago.
…And I’m back here in my cocoon now. Where I’d learned to love being alone. In the dark.

Why am I here?

 

 

I woke up one day and found myself looking for answers to questions I haven’t asked yet. There’s just a big part missing. Like the feeling you get when you know you forgot to do something and you can’t remember what it is.

 

 

And then I wake up again, and feel bad that it’s not really any dream I was hoping it has been. And then I start waking up every morning feeling the exact hollowness. A morning of bliss becomes frightening, for there might have been something wrong there for me to feel satisfied and fulfilled.

 

 

I might be getting ahead of myself for I keep thinking of my future – of my life’s worth, of how my life would be lived. But at the same time I might be losing myself in the past for sometimes I find myself drowned with regrets for choices I did or did not make.

 

 

Whatever it is, I know I just have to find a way to teach myself to live in the present, to accept and appreciate the things that I have now; without any fear of mistake in investing, financially or emotionally.

 

 

_ _ _

 

 

I can’t seem to understand myself. Part of the time I dance loving the leash strapped around my neck, cherishing every moment I sit with certainty. But for the worst but most loved part, I liquefy my brain thinking of the infinite possibility that the future may present, and the ocean of uncertainty that I’d have to swim through.

 

 

It becomes very difficult to trust when you look back at your life seeing yourself do every possible good you could, but still landing level with those you resent for doing bad. Life, it seems, is really never without a sense of irony.

 

 

Moral fatigue can be very deluding. Selfishness suddenly makes so much sense than everything else. It makes you want to just live for yourself whatever the cost maybe; without any family or friend to live for – or die for.

 

 

 

 

 

Death becomes too comfortable and inviting. Darkness becomes home.

Mothers are everywhere, just as love is.

          There’s the daughter who’s left with a younger brother – and a father – to take care of because her mother is working abroad. She walks through the dark streets leading to their home, her bag gripped in his hand with worries and love. On the other she carries a bag of goods for home’s dinner; a red umbrella accompanying her every step. At home she finds cheers and alcohol and fathers’ friends, her brother eagerly taking from her the night’s ration. A battle with contempt ensues as she hurries to her room, fiercely fighting a tear or two. But she reminds the world, love is stronger.

          There’s the young girl who carries her youngest sister in her arms as she and her younger brothers walk along the STCJP-Vega sidewalk, selling sampaguita. She can feel the numbness in her arm, but is pacified by the sight of peaceful slumber her baby sister experiences. She pursues every passerby, hoping for the sound of coins replacing the scent of the flowers in her hand. She carries only a necklace of flowers at a time so it would seem as her last and people would buy it.

          There’s the mother who’s left with four monstrous boys to raise because her husband died of liver cancer. A lot of other guys tried to court her, but she refused. She worked at day, came home every night, cleaned the house and slept on time with no one to vent her problems and struggles on. The eldest son brought more problems and the second and the third were too young to speak. The youngest was two. After ten years now, her sons are her bodyguards. The eldest is waiting for Bayer’s call. The second is about to graduate college. The third just entered UP, and the youngest got into National High’s first pilot section. 

          Then there’s the teacher, who scolds at her students for taking classes during summer instead of going to Guimaras, or Boracay; or instead of staying at Lolo’s farm eating guavas. She’s a mother who boasts of her children’s achievements to inspire her students. She’s also a wife who always remembers and mentions her husband and their little thrills at home, and stops whenever the story turns to something that is not for young children to hear. She comments on how indifferent the class seems, but still patiently continues with relentless fervor in lecturing and making the students understand. She talks about notes and journals, names and jokes and so much more than a typical classroom would contain. She sings to her students and makes them cry at the end of the term. She’s a teacher who not just teaches but reaches the hearts of the students, and stays there. Talk about work with love.

          Mothers are everywhere. Love is everywhere.

 

Note:
        As I was reflecting and assessing through my summer experience, I felt the presence of God envelope me once again with the love and inspiration that mothers bring. Thus, the drive for this article. Two months in the making, written in two hours :)

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

                Mel, you always inspire me with your love for your family, friends and the things you do. Truly, God’s Love emanates from you.

                Isabel *, your siblings depend so much on your love, keep going, the future is bright for you.

                My dearest Mama, I will always love you. You show me how real God’s touch can be.

                To Maam Blauta, thank you very much for the wonderful summer class. I never imagined absorbing so much knowledge at such a short time. Also, thank you for concluding my article :) Love truly conquers all. Omnia vincit amor.

*not sure if i remember correctly :)

What set me off, I do not know. A friends’ message, a sunset or my curriculum flowchart? It could be all. As I look at it, I see that I only have two semesters to stay. A few more units and it’s over. As I look at the colored squares, I don’t just look at the courses that I’ve already taken, some for a four months’ time, the others for just one; I look at how it’s been for me in almost four long years. It’s almost overwhelming. Even the memories are too much to take for reminiscing. It’s as if days aren’t enough. Besides, time isn’t all that’s past.

I remember how it was when I dreamt of becoming a grown up at once. It is still clear to me how I always chose to act maturely, or at least the way I viewed being mature. I hated when people leave me out because I’m still young, that I wouldn’t understand. Inside me, I welled up, vowing that someday I’ll prove to be a man myself.

I took responsibility as a chance of showing that I am older than the rest: in mind and body; that I can decide more maturely than the rest. I acted, thought and did things as if I’m ready for anything. Like entering into relationships at an early age, with the slightest grasp of what it’s really like. I went away for high school at 12, seeking a different sense of independence. I looked at life simply – be BRAVE, take in everything that comes your way, pick which stays and let go of the rest.

Now it seems that I’m nearing something that I thought all along I knew: LIFE. And it’s no longer an act, or play. It’s REAL.

And all of a sudden, I’m afraid to grow up. I’m scared to mature. I’ve seen how infinite the possibilities are that await me. This time, every decision counts.

They say that one should never look back at life with regrets, that regret is a useless word. Should I find one now, am I to be blamed?

I freeze, but time won’t. As I look at this sheet of paper which carried so much more than ink and crayon, I hold Hope on the one hand and Faith on the other. And just like every hopeful fresh starts, I’ll make my most out of what else is coming, “For I shall never pass this way again...”