In the middle of crossroads you stand
Been wandering in circles, do you still run?
Left or right, you remain confused
Which way to go, you need to choose.
Your heart’s desire, just a step away
But do you go for it, or do you stay?
Swayed by uncertainty, but it’s what you want
You want to grab it now, but you just can’t.
Arms stretched, you try to reach
You try to move forward inch by inch
Is it for you, you stop and doubt
Do you pursue north or do you head back south?
Looking behind, do you go back?
Do you close your eyes and try your luck?
Listening intently, seeking for the Voice
Please help me, you say, I need to make a choice.
Standing unmoved, you look at the road
Trying to discern answers yet untold
Wind is blowing, your name they call
But grounded you stay, determined not to fall.
The end of the road, you still don’t see
Helpless inside, what’s your destiny
As you stand there, you patiently wait
The road may be unknown… but take it to your faith.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Trina
(This is what I get from looking through old files in my computer before reformatting. ;p)
It was the second time she watched the stars with him while sitting by the beach. She could still recall how she used to love those scenes in movies and she never thought the stars could actually be lovely to stare at. He was just a few inches away from her and it was one of the most amazing, unexplainable feelings there could ever be.
A few years back, the idea of him was real only in romantic novels that she used to read. But he made everything truly like a fairy tale in real life. He had the kindest smile she had ever seen. He had the ability to make her feel like there was nothing more important in the world than to be with her.
He took her to places she had never been before. It was not as if she had never seen trees, and flowers and lakes, but nature seemed lovelier and more perfect with him having to show it to her. He declared her as his inspiration in front of his family, his friends and probably half of the town’s population and she just drowned with so much attention he poured out on her.
By the steadiness of his breath, she knew he was already asleep. As she heard the little waves break into the shore, she stared at him trying to discern something unspoken. She smiled remembering all the good things of the past and she wondered if he somehow thought of it too.
Things were already different. Maybe two years was really long enough to change everything. Even if his mere presence brought back a familiar feeling, and even if he were there right beside her, there was still a strange hollow between them.
Earlier, their friends continued to tease them as if it were a continuation of that special thing they once shared. They sang their old songs and tried to bring back that bond that they lost after so long. It was surreal. It was like one of those fairy tales brought back to life.
She asked herself, was the feeling still there? But until the break of dawn, she was not able to come up with any answer.
He opened his eyes and she realized it was time to go. She smiled at him and felt the awkwardness to say a word. She knew it was time. Because the moment they leave that shore where they watched the stars together, she already felt the coldness of the sand that she will leave behind, together with the new hope that the early morning sky promises.
He stopped the car where she had to take off. He told the others, “Guys, let’s drop Trina off first.” A very fast, deep regret in his face was unmistakable as if he wished to have bitten his tongue at that very moment.
It wasn’t her name.
It was the second time she watched the stars with him while sitting by the beach. She could still recall how she used to love those scenes in movies and she never thought the stars could actually be lovely to stare at. He was just a few inches away from her and it was one of the most amazing, unexplainable feelings there could ever be.
A few years back, the idea of him was real only in romantic novels that she used to read. But he made everything truly like a fairy tale in real life. He had the kindest smile she had ever seen. He had the ability to make her feel like there was nothing more important in the world than to be with her.
He took her to places she had never been before. It was not as if she had never seen trees, and flowers and lakes, but nature seemed lovelier and more perfect with him having to show it to her. He declared her as his inspiration in front of his family, his friends and probably half of the town’s population and she just drowned with so much attention he poured out on her.
By the steadiness of his breath, she knew he was already asleep. As she heard the little waves break into the shore, she stared at him trying to discern something unspoken. She smiled remembering all the good things of the past and she wondered if he somehow thought of it too.
Things were already different. Maybe two years was really long enough to change everything. Even if his mere presence brought back a familiar feeling, and even if he were there right beside her, there was still a strange hollow between them.
Earlier, their friends continued to tease them as if it were a continuation of that special thing they once shared. They sang their old songs and tried to bring back that bond that they lost after so long. It was surreal. It was like one of those fairy tales brought back to life.
She asked herself, was the feeling still there? But until the break of dawn, she was not able to come up with any answer.
He opened his eyes and she realized it was time to go. She smiled at him and felt the awkwardness to say a word. She knew it was time. Because the moment they leave that shore where they watched the stars together, she already felt the coldness of the sand that she will leave behind, together with the new hope that the early morning sky promises.
He stopped the car where she had to take off. He told the others, “Guys, let’s drop Trina off first.” A very fast, deep regret in his face was unmistakable as if he wished to have bitten his tongue at that very moment.
It wasn’t her name.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Choosing A Side
In the middle of an uncertainty where the truth is unknown, you have two options: to believe you're in the safe zone, or to fear the alert of the danger zone.
Safe zone is where you believe you remain invincible, impenetrable by anything or anyone. It is where you feel you are still in control.
Danger zone is where the line is crossed, the boundaries are exceeded until you become vulnerable to whatever circumstances may still bring. It is where you have lost your upper hand.
It is torturing to stay in the gray area. To not know what side to choose. To want to choose the safe zone but the fear of the danger zone keeps on bugging you like a forceful idea not wanting to give up its power over you.
However, in reality, there remains one last option: to find out the truth. Only, the final question would be: Are you ready for it?
Safe zone is where you believe you remain invincible, impenetrable by anything or anyone. It is where you feel you are still in control.
Danger zone is where the line is crossed, the boundaries are exceeded until you become vulnerable to whatever circumstances may still bring. It is where you have lost your upper hand.
It is torturing to stay in the gray area. To not know what side to choose. To want to choose the safe zone but the fear of the danger zone keeps on bugging you like a forceful idea not wanting to give up its power over you.
However, in reality, there remains one last option: to find out the truth. Only, the final question would be: Are you ready for it?
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
License to Rest
This is one of those moments where I am feeling terribly tired, yet feeling condemned for having that feeling. I'm crazy right?
Rest is meant for people who have been productive enough to earn that break. I don't know where I got that from, but it has been my philosophy since I started living in the real world of business.
As for me, I haven’t accomplished anything yet and I’m running out of patience. I know I’ve got a lot of things to do and in my mind they are all piled up, but I just couldn’t get the exact attitude to get it done. The mere thought of doing all these things make me scream "Stoooop!!!" inside.
So I say, I’m just tired but I have no license to rest. How tormenting can that be.
Rest is meant for people who have been productive enough to earn that break. I don't know where I got that from, but it has been my philosophy since I started living in the real world of business.
As for me, I haven’t accomplished anything yet and I’m running out of patience. I know I’ve got a lot of things to do and in my mind they are all piled up, but I just couldn’t get the exact attitude to get it done. The mere thought of doing all these things make me scream "Stoooop!!!" inside.
So I say, I’m just tired but I have no license to rest. How tormenting can that be.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Authority in Question
Submission is a word most people hate. Of course. As much as possible we want to have things our way. But whether we like it or not, as long as we do not have a planet of our own where our rules and sole power reign, we have to submit to certain forms of authority.
Undoubtedly we have our own dominion in our little lives but when we step out and face the world, we still have to pay some form of respect to other people especially those who have authority over us, say our boss.
I am one of the nicest and most supportive bosses. I always encourage, praise good output, play down mistakes, and I very rarely yell. So I do feel awful when people become abusive and start to give me an attitude.
I am very much upset by people who seem to discount my authority as a boss. Is it acceptable to just go on a leave without giving any notice at all? Is it tolerable to make faces when given instructions? What’s the problem with these people! I need not spell it out as a policy. It takes just a little common sense!
You might suggest confrontation. All right, that makes me imperfect now. I hate confrontations and before I start yelling I have to recollect my emotions first. I know I don’t have to take things personally, maintain professionalism and all that. But sometimes it’s quite tough not to take things personally when as simple as common courtesy just doesn’t seem so common anymore. I’m starting to think if it’s being done on purpose. Running a business is really hard, but managing people is a whole lot harder.
Submission is not blind obedience. It is almost inseparable with respect. And in this arena, I believe disrespect is worse than disobedience.
Undoubtedly we have our own dominion in our little lives but when we step out and face the world, we still have to pay some form of respect to other people especially those who have authority over us, say our boss.
I am one of the nicest and most supportive bosses. I always encourage, praise good output, play down mistakes, and I very rarely yell. So I do feel awful when people become abusive and start to give me an attitude.
I am very much upset by people who seem to discount my authority as a boss. Is it acceptable to just go on a leave without giving any notice at all? Is it tolerable to make faces when given instructions? What’s the problem with these people! I need not spell it out as a policy. It takes just a little common sense!
You might suggest confrontation. All right, that makes me imperfect now. I hate confrontations and before I start yelling I have to recollect my emotions first. I know I don’t have to take things personally, maintain professionalism and all that. But sometimes it’s quite tough not to take things personally when as simple as common courtesy just doesn’t seem so common anymore. I’m starting to think if it’s being done on purpose. Running a business is really hard, but managing people is a whole lot harder.
Submission is not blind obedience. It is almost inseparable with respect. And in this arena, I believe disrespect is worse than disobedience.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Sorry Is Just Another Word
Sorry is one of the overused and most abused words. It has become so ordinary that it gets to the ranks of “you know” or “whatever” or “like.” I don’t have anything against these. But it’s, like, you know…it has lost its meaning already or whatever.
We spill a coffee over someone and we say sorry. We don’t get what another person says and we say “I’m sorry?” Often, we choose to let go of words before even thinking about it and hurt other people because we can always resort to saying sorry anyway. People feel more liberty in being unkind or insensitive because they are free to dig in to the unlimited resource of sorry.
Sorry is a feeling of sorrow, regret or grief. It's not something that we take advantage of and excuse our shortcomings with. It's not something that's supposed to come out just to get things over with. I was reminded by someone that sorry is not the end of the discussion, but most of the time, it's where the real talk begins.
Sorry with no heart, no sincerity, is just another word. We cannot say we're sorry and at the same time justify what we do something wrong. We cannot say sorry and have a list of reasons that rationalizes our actions. When we say we're sorry, we simply are.
We spill a coffee over someone and we say sorry. We don’t get what another person says and we say “I’m sorry?” Often, we choose to let go of words before even thinking about it and hurt other people because we can always resort to saying sorry anyway. People feel more liberty in being unkind or insensitive because they are free to dig in to the unlimited resource of sorry.
Sorry is a feeling of sorrow, regret or grief. It's not something that we take advantage of and excuse our shortcomings with. It's not something that's supposed to come out just to get things over with. I was reminded by someone that sorry is not the end of the discussion, but most of the time, it's where the real talk begins.
Sorry with no heart, no sincerity, is just another word. We cannot say we're sorry and at the same time justify what we do something wrong. We cannot say sorry and have a list of reasons that rationalizes our actions. When we say we're sorry, we simply are.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
In the Middle of Silence
Silence is deafening, some people say. Sitting next to a person hearing nothing but the sounds of his breath is not easy. People resort to make whatever sound, tap their fingers, and initiate small talks just to fill in the awkward gaps. It's hard to be steady in the middle of silence. Most of the time, there has to be the littlest noise to break it.
What's in silence that people cannot bear? The awkwardness? The nothingness? The solitude?
I love silence. I love long drives with no radio on. No talking. I can go for hours without speaking a word. I love to be alone with my own thoughts. And sometimes it's the best time to recognize ones existence. It's one of the few moments to be reminded of life's simple pleasures, the ones that are always overshadowed by the busyness of this life. It's the time to uncover the realities that go unnoticed because each is consumed by the seemingly more important facts of life.
Nearly every place has no room for silence. In the middle of today's worries, even in our sleep we find no silence, no peace. I wonder when is the last time we have a time of quiet and just discover the marvel of the unknown...of some things greater than us...of the profundity of life and our existence.
What's in silence that people cannot bear? The awkwardness? The nothingness? The solitude?
I love silence. I love long drives with no radio on. No talking. I can go for hours without speaking a word. I love to be alone with my own thoughts. And sometimes it's the best time to recognize ones existence. It's one of the few moments to be reminded of life's simple pleasures, the ones that are always overshadowed by the busyness of this life. It's the time to uncover the realities that go unnoticed because each is consumed by the seemingly more important facts of life.
Nearly every place has no room for silence. In the middle of today's worries, even in our sleep we find no silence, no peace. I wonder when is the last time we have a time of quiet and just discover the marvel of the unknown...of some things greater than us...of the profundity of life and our existence.
Monday, May 4, 2009
In A Rush
*Alarm*
She wakes up at the exact time
Not a second later,
Not earlier.
She says a quick prayer
Then leaps from her bed to take a shower.
*Office*
She flees to her office
Does the first thing that pops to her head.
Tries to do everything all at once
So much for the daily planner
She jumps from one task to another.
*Frustration*
She's programmed to work
She goes on until the end of the day
Weariness
Her mind and heart aren't there
Still she does her job, but not quite well.
*The After*
She heads on to her friends,
Amazed. Puzzled
How can they remain so enthusiastic
When she barely has the muscles to smile
More so to think.
*More Frustration*
She doubts herself.
Feeling of inadequacy
She's not used to
She has to be like them
Everything, she wants to learn.
But she has no time,
No energy
No more willingness to.
*Disappointment*
She wakes up at the exact time
Not a second later,
Not earlier.
She says a quick prayer
Then leaps from her bed to take a shower.
*Office*
She flees to her office
Does the first thing that pops to her head.
Tries to do everything all at once
So much for the daily planner
She jumps from one task to another.
*Frustration*
She's programmed to work
She goes on until the end of the day
Weariness
Her mind and heart aren't there
Still she does her job, but not quite well.
*The After*
She heads on to her friends,
Amazed. Puzzled
How can they remain so enthusiastic
When she barely has the muscles to smile
More so to think.
*More Frustration*
She doubts herself.
Feeling of inadequacy
She's not used to
She has to be like them
Everything, she wants to learn.
But she has no time,
No energy
No more willingness to.
*Disappointment*
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
When Your Feelings Betray You
They say if you don't like the ending, then don't even start thinking about it. The problem is most of the time it is your own feelings that betray you.
One moment you feel that you’ve moved on from a break up, ready to face a whole new world, and then you wake up one day feeling miserable all of a sudden, recalling all the pain you thought were already gone.
You know how it feels to slump back to that dark past but undeniably, stubbornness is the one enemy of all dealing with dilemmas. No matter how you portray that undefeatable façade, you see yourself being drifted to that zone of vulnerability. Because you allow your feelings consume you. Most of the time you are indeed miserable because you choose to. You place yourself into where your feelings can manipulate you and make you believe that what it says is the reality.
But in the real reality, you are just one soul trapped by your own feelings. You are wondering on the endless what ifs of the past maybe because you just run out of something good to think of and strangely have that desire to feel miserable.
Feelings are always deceiving. It’s something very difficult to comprehend, but can be mastered I believe. It’s a venom that can poison you without you knowing if you have not learned to manage it.
There’s always one question you can consider:
Are you wise enough to know where your feelings lead you?
One moment you feel that you’ve moved on from a break up, ready to face a whole new world, and then you wake up one day feeling miserable all of a sudden, recalling all the pain you thought were already gone.
You know how it feels to slump back to that dark past but undeniably, stubbornness is the one enemy of all dealing with dilemmas. No matter how you portray that undefeatable façade, you see yourself being drifted to that zone of vulnerability. Because you allow your feelings consume you. Most of the time you are indeed miserable because you choose to. You place yourself into where your feelings can manipulate you and make you believe that what it says is the reality.
But in the real reality, you are just one soul trapped by your own feelings. You are wondering on the endless what ifs of the past maybe because you just run out of something good to think of and strangely have that desire to feel miserable.
Feelings are always deceiving. It’s something very difficult to comprehend, but can be mastered I believe. It’s a venom that can poison you without you knowing if you have not learned to manage it.
There’s always one question you can consider:
Are you wise enough to know where your feelings lead you?
Thursday, March 5, 2009
The Game
Characters: He and She
Setting: Some bench in some place, one hazy day.
He: “So you think everything’s changed now, eh?” He had that probing eyes, trying to extract all information from her silence.
She: “Am I wrong?” It was her time to give him that prying look, and he turned away with a nervous laugh.
He: “I’m still here, right?” He tried to make it sound funny.
She: “Are you?” She threw back. It was the first time that he failed to make her laugh.
He: “What do you think am I, a ghost?” He laughed, feeling victorious in having found a way to break the tension between them. Second try.
She: “Didn’t you introduce yourself to me as that a long time ago?” She simply shrugged, breaking his triumph. Second failure.
He: “I know…” He said quietly. She could’ve jumped for winning the all-questions game they started. But she hoped he would say something more.
He: Said none.
She: “Gotcha. I won this time.” She joked, collecting back her things and her tears. She said a fast goodbye.
She: Ran away, without looking.
She knew he would never add anything more, not now, not tomorrow, probably never in this lifetime.
When can that ever sink in?
Setting: Some bench in some place, one hazy day.
He: “So you think everything’s changed now, eh?” He had that probing eyes, trying to extract all information from her silence.
She: “Am I wrong?” It was her time to give him that prying look, and he turned away with a nervous laugh.
He: “I’m still here, right?” He tried to make it sound funny.
She: “Are you?” She threw back. It was the first time that he failed to make her laugh.
He: “What do you think am I, a ghost?” He laughed, feeling victorious in having found a way to break the tension between them. Second try.
She: “Didn’t you introduce yourself to me as that a long time ago?” She simply shrugged, breaking his triumph. Second failure.
He: “I know…” He said quietly. She could’ve jumped for winning the all-questions game they started. But she hoped he would say something more.
He: Said none.
She: “Gotcha. I won this time.” She joked, collecting back her things and her tears. She said a fast goodbye.
She: Ran away, without looking.
She knew he would never add anything more, not now, not tomorrow, probably never in this lifetime.
When can that ever sink in?
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
When it isn't about you this time
Who isn't thinking of becoming successful, being happy or getting the best in this life?
Do we not wake up in the morning preoccupied on running our life and making the most of it?
Do we not sometimes look at people thinking what can we possibly get from this person? Is he an asset or liability to my race?
Or even as we walk the streets, do we not think that all eyes are on us and we're being watched by the world?
Do we not want to get recognition for every little thing that we do? Do we not mimic a child saying "hey dad! watch me! watch what i can do!"
Talk about being self-absorbed.
We are so consumed by ourselves that we sometimes think that the world has to stop and care for us, to listen and give us what we want.
Do we not like those people or guys (he he sorry) who just love to talk about their curriculum vitae and enumerate all their accomplishments, then give you 5 seconds to comment an "ah" or "ok" or maybe applaud? then continue rambling?
The 'me-attitude' is always not the best option.
In life, I think the more we focus on ourselves, the more we find that too much is lacking. Sometimes, when we shift our focus from ourselves, to what we can do for others, it's where we find true fulfillment.
I've read a book once saying our own comfort comes when we give comfort to others. Financial sufficiency comes from sparing some of our own for others. It's hard to understand but it works.
Most of the time, there are far greater things in this world than our own. And since we are concentrated with our own little world, we neglect to recognize our responsibility with other people and yes I believe we have.
Sometimes, it isn't just about us anymore.
Do we not wake up in the morning preoccupied on running our life and making the most of it?
Do we not sometimes look at people thinking what can we possibly get from this person? Is he an asset or liability to my race?
Or even as we walk the streets, do we not think that all eyes are on us and we're being watched by the world?
Do we not want to get recognition for every little thing that we do? Do we not mimic a child saying "hey dad! watch me! watch what i can do!"
Talk about being self-absorbed.
We are so consumed by ourselves that we sometimes think that the world has to stop and care for us, to listen and give us what we want.
Do we not like those people or guys (he he sorry) who just love to talk about their curriculum vitae and enumerate all their accomplishments, then give you 5 seconds to comment an "ah" or "ok" or maybe applaud? then continue rambling?
The 'me-attitude' is always not the best option.
In life, I think the more we focus on ourselves, the more we find that too much is lacking. Sometimes, when we shift our focus from ourselves, to what we can do for others, it's where we find true fulfillment.
I've read a book once saying our own comfort comes when we give comfort to others. Financial sufficiency comes from sparing some of our own for others. It's hard to understand but it works.
Most of the time, there are far greater things in this world than our own. And since we are concentrated with our own little world, we neglect to recognize our responsibility with other people and yes I believe we have.
Sometimes, it isn't just about us anymore.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
When two people don't seem to match
I’m not really fond of meddling with other people’s business but it doesn’t mean I can’t have my own opinion about their lives. But don’t worry, I don’t go straight in front of them and tell them “hey your life sucks!” I got my own life to worry about.
It just so happened that I have this very dear friend and I cannot really figure out how she turned out to be madly in love with this guy. I thought she was just fond of the feeling of being with someone but would soon lose interest. But I realized they’ve been together for quite a while now! Where’s the breakup I’ve been waiting for?
You may think I’m cruel for wanting them to break up, or I’m just one bitter person who can’t find her own happiness. Maybe I am or I just want to have a partner in this world of singlehood. But can it be possible that I want the best guy for her? Ha ha sounds very mommy-ish!
My point is, they just don’t seem to match. I think my friend is too smart, pretty and way too talented. She has this amazing confidence and ability to make people give her a second look and hear what she has to say. (I’m so jealous!)
Then one night she just came to me with all sparkly eyes saying she may have found the one! The one? Him? Seriously???
Yeah, seriously.
I’m not here to demean other people. Now I’m feeling guilty. I just can’t really understand why such an exceptional lady would fall in love with someone…ordinary.
She could’ve found someone she can also have a good laugh with, someone who would also love her despite her immaturities, someone who would also make sense…but better.
Don’t I really like him that much? Not really… I’m just wondering could he really be the right one for her?
It just so happened that I have this very dear friend and I cannot really figure out how she turned out to be madly in love with this guy. I thought she was just fond of the feeling of being with someone but would soon lose interest. But I realized they’ve been together for quite a while now! Where’s the breakup I’ve been waiting for?
You may think I’m cruel for wanting them to break up, or I’m just one bitter person who can’t find her own happiness. Maybe I am or I just want to have a partner in this world of singlehood. But can it be possible that I want the best guy for her? Ha ha sounds very mommy-ish!
My point is, they just don’t seem to match. I think my friend is too smart, pretty and way too talented. She has this amazing confidence and ability to make people give her a second look and hear what she has to say. (I’m so jealous!)
Then one night she just came to me with all sparkly eyes saying she may have found the one! The one? Him? Seriously???
Yeah, seriously.
I’m not here to demean other people. Now I’m feeling guilty. I just can’t really understand why such an exceptional lady would fall in love with someone…ordinary.
She could’ve found someone she can also have a good laugh with, someone who would also love her despite her immaturities, someone who would also make sense…but better.
Don’t I really like him that much? Not really… I’m just wondering could he really be the right one for her?
Saturday, January 3, 2009
When you regret sending a message
3 nights ago I sent a message to an old friend in Australia. We haven't talked for months now and I just wondered what could be wrong in sending a hi message.
Months ago I knew that very moment would come that's why I deleted everything that could possibly tempt me to get in touch with him- email addresses, phone numbers, home address (if I get too crazy and fly off to Australia). I thought I was wise enough then. But I am more clever/stupid now. I found my old phone where I stored and probably intentionally forgot to delete those info about him. Okay, I'll spare you the drama. I might regret this even more.
So, unfortunately, I got his number and sent him a text message. Not that I expected a reply. (Who am I kidding?) But hey, he could've been polite enough to text me back after he has dumped me in exchange for his trip to Japan. That was so unforgivable and his conscience should be bugging him for his insensitivity, but that too was ineffective. And so even before the year ended, I did an awful thing for even bothering to ask how he was doing. I should quit reading that book saying I have to get in touch with the person that pops in my head. Yes, there is such a book. And yes, I'm making it as an excuse.
It was really nothing and I can't believe that after more than a year of that broken promise, I would still create a big fuss out of it. And it is much more foolish to post it here.
Related Posts:
A Ghost
Months ago I knew that very moment would come that's why I deleted everything that could possibly tempt me to get in touch with him- email addresses, phone numbers, home address (if I get too crazy and fly off to Australia). I thought I was wise enough then. But I am more clever/stupid now. I found my old phone where I stored and probably intentionally forgot to delete those info about him. Okay, I'll spare you the drama. I might regret this even more.
So, unfortunately, I got his number and sent him a text message. Not that I expected a reply. (Who am I kidding?) But hey, he could've been polite enough to text me back after he has dumped me in exchange for his trip to Japan. That was so unforgivable and his conscience should be bugging him for his insensitivity, but that too was ineffective. And so even before the year ended, I did an awful thing for even bothering to ask how he was doing. I should quit reading that book saying I have to get in touch with the person that pops in my head. Yes, there is such a book. And yes, I'm making it as an excuse.
It was really nothing and I can't believe that after more than a year of that broken promise, I would still create a big fuss out of it. And it is much more foolish to post it here.
Related Posts:
A Ghost
Thursday, November 27, 2008
NOW THAT I'M HOME
Demy was standing outside for almost an hour now. It was almost midnight and it was freezing outside but he didn’t care. His old hands were holding a bouquet of red roses which could have already withered by his stare.
He knew the kids would be arriving in the morning. Even if he couldn’t hear a slight movement, he knew there was still somebody inside waiting for them. He peeked through the heavily curtained window once in a while, desperate to get a view.
He made several attempts but ran out of strength to move a few more muscles to make that press on the doorbell. Fear, together with the cold breeze, wrapped him. He began to become more anxious. He was afraid of how he would be welcomed, if he would be at all. He didn’t even know how he got the courage to be there.
He was about to leave when he heard a door being opened. Sensing the noise created by the screen door that probably had not been replaced for years, Demy knew that it was the back door.
Quivering, he made a few steps towards the backyard. The porch at the back was dimly lit. Hearing the silent rush of waves, he paused. He closed his eyes, remembering how good it felt to be there once again.
He stopped upon seeing a rocking chair move from the other side. He stared at the old lady facing at the beach, slowly rocking the chair back and forth. He guessed she was reading one of her hundreds of books.
With a few more deep breathing and fidgeting, he quietly said, “Merry Christmas, Betty…”
The rocking chair stopped and he could see the lady froze. Betty slowly turned her head and her eyes instantly welled up.
Demy moved toward her and handed her the flowers.
“You remembered…” Betty almost whispered.
He hesitated but made one more step to reach out for her hand. “I’ve made mistakes in the past and it took me this long to realize I shouldn’t have left you. I’m sorry…” He was trying to fight the lump in his throat.
With more effort, Betty stood up shaking her head. And with those same loving eyes, she said, “What matters is you’re here…”
Demy hugged her, hoping it could make up for the lost years. “I will never leave again…now that I’m home…”
He knew the kids would be arriving in the morning. Even if he couldn’t hear a slight movement, he knew there was still somebody inside waiting for them. He peeked through the heavily curtained window once in a while, desperate to get a view.
He made several attempts but ran out of strength to move a few more muscles to make that press on the doorbell. Fear, together with the cold breeze, wrapped him. He began to become more anxious. He was afraid of how he would be welcomed, if he would be at all. He didn’t even know how he got the courage to be there.
He was about to leave when he heard a door being opened. Sensing the noise created by the screen door that probably had not been replaced for years, Demy knew that it was the back door.
Quivering, he made a few steps towards the backyard. The porch at the back was dimly lit. Hearing the silent rush of waves, he paused. He closed his eyes, remembering how good it felt to be there once again.
He stopped upon seeing a rocking chair move from the other side. He stared at the old lady facing at the beach, slowly rocking the chair back and forth. He guessed she was reading one of her hundreds of books.
With a few more deep breathing and fidgeting, he quietly said, “Merry Christmas, Betty…”
The rocking chair stopped and he could see the lady froze. Betty slowly turned her head and her eyes instantly welled up.
Demy moved toward her and handed her the flowers.
“You remembered…” Betty almost whispered.
He hesitated but made one more step to reach out for her hand. “I’ve made mistakes in the past and it took me this long to realize I shouldn’t have left you. I’m sorry…” He was trying to fight the lump in his throat.
With more effort, Betty stood up shaking her head. And with those same loving eyes, she said, “What matters is you’re here…”
Demy hugged her, hoping it could make up for the lost years. “I will never leave again…now that I’m home…”
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Didn't You Like Daddy's Gift?
Three days before Christmas. Mom was busy preparing the dinner. Knowing that I was not allowed near the kitchen while they were busy, I used my strategy. “Mom, can I mix this for you?” I asked sweetly, eager to help out in making the flan. I was four years old.
But my mom knew better. Maybe she remembered the last time that I “helped” her I just broke the bowl and spilled everything on the floor. “Thank you honey…But don’t you think it’s more fun to be part of the game team?”
It didn’t work! With a defeated look, I walked away. I knew my sisters wouldn’t let me help either.
“Can I help?” I boldly volunteered anyway. My sisters were wrapping the prizes for the games.
“You don’t even know how to use the scissors. Plus, it won’t be a surprise then.”
“But…what will I do?” I was helpless. Everyone had their assignment for the party but nobody would let me help.
“You can take care of the gifts. Arrange them from the biggest to the smallest.”
I can do that! That’s the best part! So I hurried towards the tree and stared at the huge pile of gifts slumped beneath. Squeezing and shaking each gift, I had guessed them all.
Another pillow for mom…
Stuffed teddy for my sister…
A toy car for my brother…
For dad…Maybe something for his car…I can’t guess this…
And mine is…Where’s mine?! I finished arranging the gifts but I couldn’t find mine. I was already in panic searching for my gift.
Then I found a tiny box at the farthest corner by the tree. It was so tiny that it didn’t seem like a gift at all. But when I checked it, oh boy, it had my name on it! And it was from my dad!
I sneaked at my sisters and saw everyone still busy. I hid at the corner and hastily opened that tiny box from my dad.
“There’s nothing here!” I squealed loud enough to stop the entire household from doing their thing. I threw the box away and marched outside, grumbling.
I left them all bewildered. But seeing the wrap of the tiny box torn open, they began to laugh.
Outside, I was still in shock. I couldn’t believe my dad would give me a box of matchsticks for Christmas! It was the most ridiculous gift any person could have. I didn’t even know how to light one.
My mom followed me outside and tried to pacify me. I was acting like a total brat.
“Didn’t you like dad’s gift?”
Instead of answering, I pouted and stomped heavily. Mom burst in laughter. I was so pissed off. My mom’s terrible. How could she laugh at my misfortune?
She showed me the tiny box of matchsticks and opened it in front of me. Two bright pink Hello Kitty hair clips were inside. I froze. It was the hair clips that I had been bugging my mom about. She said I already have dozens of Hello Kitty items and she wouldn’t buy it for me. I looked at my mom then back to the hair clips then back to mom.
Mom wiped my tears and kissed me on the cheek. “Daddy bought it for you…”
In the middle of my silent sobs, I heard a voice behind me. “Didn’t you like daddy’s gift?”
I ran toward daddy and hugged him tight. “It’s the best, daddy! I’m sorry…”
“What’s inside is what matters, right honey?”
But my mom knew better. Maybe she remembered the last time that I “helped” her I just broke the bowl and spilled everything on the floor. “Thank you honey…But don’t you think it’s more fun to be part of the game team?”
It didn’t work! With a defeated look, I walked away. I knew my sisters wouldn’t let me help either.
“Can I help?” I boldly volunteered anyway. My sisters were wrapping the prizes for the games.
“You don’t even know how to use the scissors. Plus, it won’t be a surprise then.”
“But…what will I do?” I was helpless. Everyone had their assignment for the party but nobody would let me help.
“You can take care of the gifts. Arrange them from the biggest to the smallest.”
I can do that! That’s the best part! So I hurried towards the tree and stared at the huge pile of gifts slumped beneath. Squeezing and shaking each gift, I had guessed them all.
Another pillow for mom…
Stuffed teddy for my sister…
A toy car for my brother…
For dad…Maybe something for his car…I can’t guess this…
And mine is…Where’s mine?! I finished arranging the gifts but I couldn’t find mine. I was already in panic searching for my gift.
Then I found a tiny box at the farthest corner by the tree. It was so tiny that it didn’t seem like a gift at all. But when I checked it, oh boy, it had my name on it! And it was from my dad!
I sneaked at my sisters and saw everyone still busy. I hid at the corner and hastily opened that tiny box from my dad.
“There’s nothing here!” I squealed loud enough to stop the entire household from doing their thing. I threw the box away and marched outside, grumbling.
I left them all bewildered. But seeing the wrap of the tiny box torn open, they began to laugh.
Outside, I was still in shock. I couldn’t believe my dad would give me a box of matchsticks for Christmas! It was the most ridiculous gift any person could have. I didn’t even know how to light one.
My mom followed me outside and tried to pacify me. I was acting like a total brat.
“Didn’t you like dad’s gift?”
Instead of answering, I pouted and stomped heavily. Mom burst in laughter. I was so pissed off. My mom’s terrible. How could she laugh at my misfortune?
She showed me the tiny box of matchsticks and opened it in front of me. Two bright pink Hello Kitty hair clips were inside. I froze. It was the hair clips that I had been bugging my mom about. She said I already have dozens of Hello Kitty items and she wouldn’t buy it for me. I looked at my mom then back to the hair clips then back to mom.
Mom wiped my tears and kissed me on the cheek. “Daddy bought it for you…”
In the middle of my silent sobs, I heard a voice behind me. “Didn’t you like daddy’s gift?”
I ran toward daddy and hugged him tight. “It’s the best, daddy! I’m sorry…”
“What’s inside is what matters, right honey?”
Thursday, October 16, 2008
The Biggest Star
It was only four in the morning. The house was just lit by the flickering Christmas light. Tricia was already busy decorating the tree.
Tricia remembered how she was not allowed to put decors on their Christmas tree when she was younger. She would be given just a few Christmas balls and she would hang it on the bottom of the tree. Even so, she was always thrilled at her mom’s announcement of the annual tree decoration.
“Mom! Look! I think this is the best spot for this ball!” She would proudly say to her mom, wanting to get her ok to every spot she would hang her few precious balls.
And her mom would smile at her lovingly and would tell her, “Yes dear, that’s the best spot.” With that smile, Tricia would beam with excitement.
By the time they finish decorating, her dad would suddenly appear. That was the best part. Her dad would lift her to his shoulders while she held on protectively to the biggest star. Her brother and sisters would cheer her as she placed the star on top of the tree.
Then they would all march towards the kitchen and chaotically got themselves a hot chocolate. They would spend the entire morning on the dining table talking about what to eat on Christmas dinner. That was the second best part.
“You ok?” Her sister, still in her pajamas, appeared behind her.
Oblivious of her presence, she almost dropped a Christmas ball. “Yeah, I’ll be done in a while.” She quietly smiled.
“Alright. Wake me up if you need help ok? But I don’t think you want me to help you anyway.” She teased and ran off.
It was roughly 10 years ago since they last decorated their Christmas tree together. She could barely recall how they spent those ten Christmases without her mom.
After she placed the last Christmas ball, she thought, “Isn’t this the best spot for this ball?”
The sun was already shining when she finished decorating. She stared at the biggest star and left it beneath the tree. She was on the verge of crying, realizing that she did everything alone.
She was already cleaning the boxes when everybody suddenly rushed in the family room.
“Wow!!! This is so great! You made it!” Her sister beamed.
“We’ve never had a Christmas tree for what, a century?” Her brother exclaimed.
She couldn’t say a thing in surprise. She turned her head when she heard a voice saying, “You did this sweetie?”
It was her dad.
“Well…Uh, huh.” She said sheepishly.
“Yes daddy. I saw her doing it at four in the morning!” Her sister said.
Her dad picked up the biggest star and handed it to her. “It’s the tradition.”
Tricia’s eyes widened as she remembered the Christmas feeling she had 10 years ago. As her siblings cheered, she placed the biggest star on top of the tree with a big smile.
Her dad hugged her. “Come, we made you a hot chocolate.”
Tricia remembered how she was not allowed to put decors on their Christmas tree when she was younger. She would be given just a few Christmas balls and she would hang it on the bottom of the tree. Even so, she was always thrilled at her mom’s announcement of the annual tree decoration.
“Mom! Look! I think this is the best spot for this ball!” She would proudly say to her mom, wanting to get her ok to every spot she would hang her few precious balls.
And her mom would smile at her lovingly and would tell her, “Yes dear, that’s the best spot.” With that smile, Tricia would beam with excitement.
By the time they finish decorating, her dad would suddenly appear. That was the best part. Her dad would lift her to his shoulders while she held on protectively to the biggest star. Her brother and sisters would cheer her as she placed the star on top of the tree.
Then they would all march towards the kitchen and chaotically got themselves a hot chocolate. They would spend the entire morning on the dining table talking about what to eat on Christmas dinner. That was the second best part.
“You ok?” Her sister, still in her pajamas, appeared behind her.
Oblivious of her presence, she almost dropped a Christmas ball. “Yeah, I’ll be done in a while.” She quietly smiled.
“Alright. Wake me up if you need help ok? But I don’t think you want me to help you anyway.” She teased and ran off.
It was roughly 10 years ago since they last decorated their Christmas tree together. She could barely recall how they spent those ten Christmases without her mom.
After she placed the last Christmas ball, she thought, “Isn’t this the best spot for this ball?”
The sun was already shining when she finished decorating. She stared at the biggest star and left it beneath the tree. She was on the verge of crying, realizing that she did everything alone.
She was already cleaning the boxes when everybody suddenly rushed in the family room.
“Wow!!! This is so great! You made it!” Her sister beamed.
“We’ve never had a Christmas tree for what, a century?” Her brother exclaimed.
She couldn’t say a thing in surprise. She turned her head when she heard a voice saying, “You did this sweetie?”
It was her dad.
“Well…Uh, huh.” She said sheepishly.
“Yes daddy. I saw her doing it at four in the morning!” Her sister said.
Her dad picked up the biggest star and handed it to her. “It’s the tradition.”
Tricia’s eyes widened as she remembered the Christmas feeling she had 10 years ago. As her siblings cheered, she placed the biggest star on top of the tree with a big smile.
Her dad hugged her. “Come, we made you a hot chocolate.”
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Jingling Bells
Jingling bells jingling bells
Jingling all the way…
Little Ben sang with great exuberance, his little fingers slightly tapping the car’s window, a little drum hanging around his neck. The driver waved his hand without looking at him.
His eyes lost sparkle, his shoulders fell and he quietly moved to the sidewalk as the light turned green.
After a few minutes, another red light. Little Ben instantly leaped as if not feeling the cold wind wrapping him, creeping into his tattered clothes.
Jingling bells jingling bells
Jingling all the way…
He hopped from one car to another, continuing to sing the same lines. People kept shooing him away but he sang anyway. Some were amused but never gave him anything.
A lady tossed a penny from the window. Little Ben’s eyes widened with excitement as he thanked the old lady.
Upon realizing how long he’d been roaming the streets, little Ben slumped into the sidewalk.
“One…two…three…one…two…three…” He silently counted as if he knew exactly how to.
Suddenly a girl, about 4 years old, appeared behind him.
“Kuya…” she said in a soft whisper.
Frightened, little Ben hurriedly hid the coins he saved from that day. “Oh Sarah, it’s you! I told you to wait for me at home.”
Tears welled up in Sarah’s eyes. “Kuya, I’m hungry…”
His throat tightened and realized that they hadn’t been eating anything for three days.
“Don’t cry… Look, 1-2-3-1-2-3! Kuya earned much! We’ll eat something special today.” He managed to cheer his voice up.
Little Ben left Sarah near the bridge and got themselves something for that day. Then he ran back to their home where she left Sarah and hurriedly climbed down. The pile of cartons was already set. Sarah was already sleeping quietly at the end waiting for him.
“Sarah, wake up…” Little Ben shook her softly. “It’s time.” He said with a silent excitement.
The two of them watched the different colors of fireworks appear in the sky, eating bread and a cup of warm noodles. “Merry Christmas Sarah…”
Jingling all the way…
Little Ben sang with great exuberance, his little fingers slightly tapping the car’s window, a little drum hanging around his neck. The driver waved his hand without looking at him.
His eyes lost sparkle, his shoulders fell and he quietly moved to the sidewalk as the light turned green.
After a few minutes, another red light. Little Ben instantly leaped as if not feeling the cold wind wrapping him, creeping into his tattered clothes.
Jingling bells jingling bells
Jingling all the way…
He hopped from one car to another, continuing to sing the same lines. People kept shooing him away but he sang anyway. Some were amused but never gave him anything.
A lady tossed a penny from the window. Little Ben’s eyes widened with excitement as he thanked the old lady.
Upon realizing how long he’d been roaming the streets, little Ben slumped into the sidewalk.
“One…two…three…one…two…three…” He silently counted as if he knew exactly how to.
Suddenly a girl, about 4 years old, appeared behind him.
“Kuya…” she said in a soft whisper.
Frightened, little Ben hurriedly hid the coins he saved from that day. “Oh Sarah, it’s you! I told you to wait for me at home.”
Tears welled up in Sarah’s eyes. “Kuya, I’m hungry…”
His throat tightened and realized that they hadn’t been eating anything for three days.
“Don’t cry… Look, 1-2-3-1-2-3! Kuya earned much! We’ll eat something special today.” He managed to cheer his voice up.
Little Ben left Sarah near the bridge and got themselves something for that day. Then he ran back to their home where she left Sarah and hurriedly climbed down. The pile of cartons was already set. Sarah was already sleeping quietly at the end waiting for him.
“Sarah, wake up…” Little Ben shook her softly. “It’s time.” He said with a silent excitement.
The two of them watched the different colors of fireworks appear in the sky, eating bread and a cup of warm noodles. “Merry Christmas Sarah…”
Friday, June 20, 2008
A Beautiful Myth
Once there was a story untold yet treasured. It was a tale that began in a rather bizarre way, but eventually turned into a wonderful thing that could ever happen to someone. The wonder of it remained perplexing, but some things are better left unfathomed for its marvel to be well-appreciated.
Over the years, the plot of the story remained clear as if the chapters were read over and over again until each episode, each detail, settled solid into the deepest spot of the mind. The value of it was nurtured and was regarded as something priceless; a once-in-a-lifetime experience that could never be traded with anything else.
It was a story that was built over the impossibilities. It was regarded as hard evidence about two people who are so different and so far apart, and yet in just a tiny, single, incredibly unusual point that may never occur again, something so beautiful can be established.
It was no more than a invisible friendship that started as a joke, shared apart, deepened despite the distance, continued to infinity. It was as plain as that, yet it was not ordinary. In that story, it had in it an unexplainable link that may remain a mystery until the end of it.
No matter how strange it was, for the longest time it was remembered. And though people held it foolish for somebody to actually believe in such a thing, it was regarded a reality; obscure, yet lovely.
In a perfect world, it would’ve remained without defect. But even the most fascinating tales had flaws. And like everything else that seemed to exist, somewhere along the way, it also had setbacks. There were unnecessary chapters that occurred, mistaken as something that would make an already flawless story more perfect. But sadly, at the end of the day, the twist proved to be just unparallel to the entire context.
It couldn’t be construed as total wreck after that tiny, almost-non-existent flaw, but for somebody who treasured such a surreal story, it was enough to challenge a belief in the reality of an oddly wonderful friendship.
The once vivid chapters became vague. While recalling how it started was as easy as a-b-c, it came to a point wherein words became cold and distant to roughly illustrate, more so to explain in depth what happened along the plot.
If it were to be rewritten, the unwanted parts would be shredded. That small part of it made the entire picture doubtful. But looking back to where it started up to the point where everything was unbelievably perfect, it still never failed to give a strange feeling of comfort. And maybe…it was the only thing that was meant to last.
Believing in it may be strongly considered unwise and plain stupid. I should know. As they insisted, it was too good to be true. Even so, it was something still causing silly smiles when remembered…a story still read over and over again and still treasured despite its imperfection.
Was it just a myth? Maybe. But the way I see it right now, that thing in it called friendship may be just another story, but in that myth, it was beautiful and real.
Over the years, the plot of the story remained clear as if the chapters were read over and over again until each episode, each detail, settled solid into the deepest spot of the mind. The value of it was nurtured and was regarded as something priceless; a once-in-a-lifetime experience that could never be traded with anything else.
It was a story that was built over the impossibilities. It was regarded as hard evidence about two people who are so different and so far apart, and yet in just a tiny, single, incredibly unusual point that may never occur again, something so beautiful can be established.
It was no more than a invisible friendship that started as a joke, shared apart, deepened despite the distance, continued to infinity. It was as plain as that, yet it was not ordinary. In that story, it had in it an unexplainable link that may remain a mystery until the end of it.
No matter how strange it was, for the longest time it was remembered. And though people held it foolish for somebody to actually believe in such a thing, it was regarded a reality; obscure, yet lovely.
In a perfect world, it would’ve remained without defect. But even the most fascinating tales had flaws. And like everything else that seemed to exist, somewhere along the way, it also had setbacks. There were unnecessary chapters that occurred, mistaken as something that would make an already flawless story more perfect. But sadly, at the end of the day, the twist proved to be just unparallel to the entire context.
It couldn’t be construed as total wreck after that tiny, almost-non-existent flaw, but for somebody who treasured such a surreal story, it was enough to challenge a belief in the reality of an oddly wonderful friendship.
The once vivid chapters became vague. While recalling how it started was as easy as a-b-c, it came to a point wherein words became cold and distant to roughly illustrate, more so to explain in depth what happened along the plot.
If it were to be rewritten, the unwanted parts would be shredded. That small part of it made the entire picture doubtful. But looking back to where it started up to the point where everything was unbelievably perfect, it still never failed to give a strange feeling of comfort. And maybe…it was the only thing that was meant to last.
Believing in it may be strongly considered unwise and plain stupid. I should know. As they insisted, it was too good to be true. Even so, it was something still causing silly smiles when remembered…a story still read over and over again and still treasured despite its imperfection.
Was it just a myth? Maybe. But the way I see it right now, that thing in it called friendship may be just another story, but in that myth, it was beautiful and real.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
THE WEDDING
The door slid open…
I think I’ve finally known you
I can see it in your eyes
I think I’ve finally shown you
That what we have is still worthwhile
She looked radiant even if she were looking down. Slowly she turned her head up…
Don’t you know that love is like a thread
That keeps unraveling within
And I see it together in the end
The butterflies were released…and she started to walk down the aisle.
In your eyes I can see my dreams’ reflections
In your eyes I found the answers to my questions
In your eyes I can see the reasons why our love’s alive
She was heading straight to the man at the end of the aisle, the man she was about to spend the rest of her life with.
In your eyes we’re safely drifting back to shore
And I think I’ve finally learned to love you more.
I couldn’t hold my tears back. I felt that I was starting to lose her…
She met her old man halfway and it was one of the most heartwarming scenes happened in my life. I couldn’t believe my own eyes.
I can consider her my favorite person on earth. With her never-ending patience and her incomparable heart of being there even before I ask, there’s no doubt of the reason why I may have that judgment. And seeing her walking down that aisle, closer to the man she’s gonna start a new life with, and farther away from me, I felt a sudden but deep rush of sadness.
Even if I tried just to focus on the wedding and their own happiness, I couldn’t help wondering “What will happen to me after this?” She was the one I spent most of my time with. We watched last full shows, we drove our father crazy for going to the mall almost every night, and we shared the same passion for food. (That was before I got too particular with the nutritional facts on the package.)
I remembered how we criticized the choices of flowers until we’ve found what would suffice. I remembered how we searched every store for the perfect shoes. I remembered how I joined her in practicing her grand walk in the aisle. And even if it were her big day we were talking about, she still made sure her baby would have the perfect dress for her wedding.
The exchange of vows snapped me from my thoughts.
Soon we would part lives as she builds a new one with somebody. I guess I really can never hold on to her forever. This man must have caused her a great deal of happiness and there’s nothing on earth I could ever pray for but the best for her. And I know in my heart that as lovely as she looked on her wedding day, though she would have a life of her own, my sister would remain the most amazing person I ever knew in my life.
I think I’ve finally known you
I can see it in your eyes
I think I’ve finally shown you
That what we have is still worthwhile
She looked radiant even if she were looking down. Slowly she turned her head up…
Don’t you know that love is like a thread
That keeps unraveling within
And I see it together in the end
The butterflies were released…and she started to walk down the aisle.
In your eyes I can see my dreams’ reflections
In your eyes I found the answers to my questions
In your eyes I can see the reasons why our love’s alive
She was heading straight to the man at the end of the aisle, the man she was about to spend the rest of her life with.
In your eyes we’re safely drifting back to shore
And I think I’ve finally learned to love you more.
I couldn’t hold my tears back. I felt that I was starting to lose her…
She met her old man halfway and it was one of the most heartwarming scenes happened in my life. I couldn’t believe my own eyes.
I can consider her my favorite person on earth. With her never-ending patience and her incomparable heart of being there even before I ask, there’s no doubt of the reason why I may have that judgment. And seeing her walking down that aisle, closer to the man she’s gonna start a new life with, and farther away from me, I felt a sudden but deep rush of sadness.
Even if I tried just to focus on the wedding and their own happiness, I couldn’t help wondering “What will happen to me after this?” She was the one I spent most of my time with. We watched last full shows, we drove our father crazy for going to the mall almost every night, and we shared the same passion for food. (That was before I got too particular with the nutritional facts on the package.)
I remembered how we criticized the choices of flowers until we’ve found what would suffice. I remembered how we searched every store for the perfect shoes. I remembered how I joined her in practicing her grand walk in the aisle. And even if it were her big day we were talking about, she still made sure her baby would have the perfect dress for her wedding.
The exchange of vows snapped me from my thoughts.
Soon we would part lives as she builds a new one with somebody. I guess I really can never hold on to her forever. This man must have caused her a great deal of happiness and there’s nothing on earth I could ever pray for but the best for her. And I know in my heart that as lovely as she looked on her wedding day, though she would have a life of her own, my sister would remain the most amazing person I ever knew in my life.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Changing Lanes
In my head, I found myself driving on a single lane, easy road at approximately 40 miles per hour, satisfied at my rate, well-buckled on my seat, comfortable at the sounds of my stereo. I had a content smile on my face saying “This is what I call life.”
I came to a busy street with horns honking everywhere, intersections blocked by cars trying to beat the red light, and each vehicle trying to make a way for itself. Naturally, my moment of ease was disturbed. For a moment, I was preoccupied with the traffic. I forgot the comfort I was feeling a few minutes ago, and I busied myself with what was actually there, with what was in front of me. At a red light, I compared my car to all those that are in the same lane, leaving brief comments on each I envied as well as on others I felt I was better off. When it turned green, I never gave any other car a chance to get into my way.
Traffics are always a headache. After a few times of cursing to the pedestrians who were still crossing the street at my green light, and after almost hitting the bumper of the car in front of me just to not let anybody else get ahead of me, I got weary and wanted to get out of the main road. So I turned right, went straight ahead, and made a couple of U-turns just to find an easy way to get out of it. Having no sense of direction, it took me a little more while to find a clearer road.
I found myself in the middle of the same road I was on before. Coupled with frustration, I fled. Time and again, I was able to unbelievably overtake a few trucks, and to avoid some hollows on the road under repair that I used to never miss. I was filled with pride that I was able to exceed my limits in driving. It was another adventure for me.
Yet, after the fun, I slowly became bored. I found nothing challenging anymore. I became uneasy with my speed so I slowed down a bit. Lost in my thoughts, a question popped. Where was I heading? Consumed by panic and fear, I realized a truth: I was heading nowhere. I looked outside my window to check how long I have travelled with no precise destination. I checked on my rearview mirror to see if there were any other vehicles running on the same road.
So I decided to pull over. A few cars, including a patrol, checked on me if I had a problem. At the back of my mind, I was asking, “Could you give me a road map?” But I didn’t want them to know I was lost. So I just pretended I was taking a break for a long trip ahead. Anyway, it was partly true.
It was already mid-afternoon. Still unsure as I was, I decided to get on with my ride. I drove at an acceptable speed. Seeing the fire trees that started to bloom that season, I began to relax. My worries passed and peace wrapped me. I enjoyed the solitude.
Throughout that long day, I realized, it’s not with the comfort, it’s not with the ability to get away with traffic, it’s not with the speed, nor is it with the ability to get ahead. A worthwhile ride is about being able to enjoy and appreciate every part of it, driving not too fast and not too slow, and still fully understanding where you’re going.
And now at the end of the day, the same question popped: Where was I heading? This time I smiled. I was heading back home.
It’s always reassuring to know that after my road trips, there would always be Him taking me home.
I came to a busy street with horns honking everywhere, intersections blocked by cars trying to beat the red light, and each vehicle trying to make a way for itself. Naturally, my moment of ease was disturbed. For a moment, I was preoccupied with the traffic. I forgot the comfort I was feeling a few minutes ago, and I busied myself with what was actually there, with what was in front of me. At a red light, I compared my car to all those that are in the same lane, leaving brief comments on each I envied as well as on others I felt I was better off. When it turned green, I never gave any other car a chance to get into my way.
Traffics are always a headache. After a few times of cursing to the pedestrians who were still crossing the street at my green light, and after almost hitting the bumper of the car in front of me just to not let anybody else get ahead of me, I got weary and wanted to get out of the main road. So I turned right, went straight ahead, and made a couple of U-turns just to find an easy way to get out of it. Having no sense of direction, it took me a little more while to find a clearer road.
I found myself in the middle of the same road I was on before. Coupled with frustration, I fled. Time and again, I was able to unbelievably overtake a few trucks, and to avoid some hollows on the road under repair that I used to never miss. I was filled with pride that I was able to exceed my limits in driving. It was another adventure for me.
Yet, after the fun, I slowly became bored. I found nothing challenging anymore. I became uneasy with my speed so I slowed down a bit. Lost in my thoughts, a question popped. Where was I heading? Consumed by panic and fear, I realized a truth: I was heading nowhere. I looked outside my window to check how long I have travelled with no precise destination. I checked on my rearview mirror to see if there were any other vehicles running on the same road.
So I decided to pull over. A few cars, including a patrol, checked on me if I had a problem. At the back of my mind, I was asking, “Could you give me a road map?” But I didn’t want them to know I was lost. So I just pretended I was taking a break for a long trip ahead. Anyway, it was partly true.
It was already mid-afternoon. Still unsure as I was, I decided to get on with my ride. I drove at an acceptable speed. Seeing the fire trees that started to bloom that season, I began to relax. My worries passed and peace wrapped me. I enjoyed the solitude.
Throughout that long day, I realized, it’s not with the comfort, it’s not with the ability to get away with traffic, it’s not with the speed, nor is it with the ability to get ahead. A worthwhile ride is about being able to enjoy and appreciate every part of it, driving not too fast and not too slow, and still fully understanding where you’re going.
And now at the end of the day, the same question popped: Where was I heading? This time I smiled. I was heading back home.
It’s always reassuring to know that after my road trips, there would always be Him taking me home.
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