And on, I go...
Took a bit while..
It has been everything but easy..
It seemed impossible
But in the end, I just had to..
This girl's FINALLY...
MOVING ON.
Thursday, July 05, 2007
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Babbling my way to tomorrow
Isn't it ironic how we all condition ourselves to go for that dream but the minute it starts to materialize, we turn cold turkey and run away -far, far away from it without so much as looking back? Blame it on those blasted horror stories of dreams going belly up right before you get on top or be gobbled alive by your own insecurity and paranoia of not being good enough but it happens, it happens to the best of us.
One day you're so close to your dream that you can almost taste, feel it and then the next minute it feels as though the momentum and every excited bone in your body just went numb, everything feels unfamiliar and you suddenly feel unsafe -without the slightest clue as to where the heck you are. Think Amish country.
I guess that's what life is all about, huh? Moving on, pushing forward, growing up and all those things you have to muster in if you so much as intend to get anywhere in life. No matter how scary or unfamiliar or how uncomfotable it all seems in the beginning, you just got to deal.
But you know what's even scarier than the unfamiliarity of today? Not the haunting scars of yesterday but the mirror of truth that tomorrow presents. And by that I don't mean what could be in store for me personally but of what I have to bring myself to accept later on in life. Like more deaths, how time can change the people I love and the inevitable seeing-people-from-your-past moment. The first two, I think I can handle (practice makes perfect) but the last? Seeing former flames, former friends, former.. everything. It may seem like I'm making too much out of this but it's just something I have been thinking about. I mean, what could that be like? Of course I have in my head probable scenarios -all with me in a fabulous ensemble in a gathering honoring my many achievements and with them, well they're them (haven't we all?), but I don't think I'm going to be that lucky. Ooohboy. I have all my fingers and toes crossed.. That would be that day.. Ah yes. The day.
Being so far away from 'that past' makes it bittersweet. Yes, it gives me all the time to pace myself for that day but then all this time away could very well numb me out and just when I feel okay to face that moment, the years and years of emotion-hibernation gets the best of me and Poof! I explode right in the middle of that day and well, so much for my designer coutre.
So that's not exactly optimism but I guess that's the realist gene kicking in. And that darned gene is making me want to think of that day -that day when everything I have been trying to keep behind me finally catches up on me, slows down my pace, and bites me in the rear (okay, so maybe no biting but you get what I'm saying). And I guess there's really no getting out of this one and I mean what am I supposed to do? Go on exile for the next 10 years in Siberia to prevent that day from happening? Even if I do, I'm pretty sure God will weasel out a plan to somehow still make it happen.
Drat.
But you know what really gets to me? It's that I know no matter how I keep thinking about it to somehow prepare myself, I know I'm never going to be ready enough so why even bother worrying about something inevitable, right? I've always done well coping with stress and all those crazy emotion-inducing experiences so why am I freaking out on this one now, right? Right. I'm talking to myself now which should be your cue to run and hit that red x box on the upper right side of this site.
It's just freaking distracting, is all I'm saying. It's unsettling and my brain's all mixed up with all these emotions.. my goodness it can be tiring being a woman sometimes.
One day you're so close to your dream that you can almost taste, feel it and then the next minute it feels as though the momentum and every excited bone in your body just went numb, everything feels unfamiliar and you suddenly feel unsafe -without the slightest clue as to where the heck you are. Think Amish country.
I guess that's what life is all about, huh? Moving on, pushing forward, growing up and all those things you have to muster in if you so much as intend to get anywhere in life. No matter how scary or unfamiliar or how uncomfotable it all seems in the beginning, you just got to deal.
But you know what's even scarier than the unfamiliarity of today? Not the haunting scars of yesterday but the mirror of truth that tomorrow presents. And by that I don't mean what could be in store for me personally but of what I have to bring myself to accept later on in life. Like more deaths, how time can change the people I love and the inevitable seeing-people-from-your-past moment. The first two, I think I can handle (practice makes perfect) but the last? Seeing former flames, former friends, former.. everything. It may seem like I'm making too much out of this but it's just something I have been thinking about. I mean, what could that be like? Of course I have in my head probable scenarios -all with me in a fabulous ensemble in a gathering honoring my many achievements and with them, well they're them (haven't we all?), but I don't think I'm going to be that lucky. Ooohboy. I have all my fingers and toes crossed.. That would be that day.. Ah yes. The day.
Being so far away from 'that past' makes it bittersweet. Yes, it gives me all the time to pace myself for that day but then all this time away could very well numb me out and just when I feel okay to face that moment, the years and years of emotion-hibernation gets the best of me and Poof! I explode right in the middle of that day and well, so much for my designer coutre.
So that's not exactly optimism but I guess that's the realist gene kicking in. And that darned gene is making me want to think of that day -that day when everything I have been trying to keep behind me finally catches up on me, slows down my pace, and bites me in the rear (okay, so maybe no biting but you get what I'm saying). And I guess there's really no getting out of this one and I mean what am I supposed to do? Go on exile for the next 10 years in Siberia to prevent that day from happening? Even if I do, I'm pretty sure God will weasel out a plan to somehow still make it happen.
Drat.
But you know what really gets to me? It's that I know no matter how I keep thinking about it to somehow prepare myself, I know I'm never going to be ready enough so why even bother worrying about something inevitable, right? I've always done well coping with stress and all those crazy emotion-inducing experiences so why am I freaking out on this one now, right? Right. I'm talking to myself now which should be your cue to run and hit that red x box on the upper right side of this site.
It's just freaking distracting, is all I'm saying. It's unsettling and my brain's all mixed up with all these emotions.. my goodness it can be tiring being a woman sometimes.
Signs
It started right after my grandfather died 11 years ago; about a week after I got home from the province for his funeral, I saw two yellow butterflies every single day -for over a month. Some time later, it became just one except during my birthdays and tragedy-stricken days like Michael's death, my grandmother's funeral and the like, then there would always be two. It lessened as I grew older, sometimes I'd see one every other week or sometimes none at all for a month but whenever something was happening to me like I'd have a major exam, a project to host or what-not, the yellow butterfly would always make an appearance. I honestly believe the two butterflies to be my grandfather and Papa. Now what I don't know is which of them appears to me in singles and although I like to think it that they take turns, I guess I'll never really know. But yes, it's the Yellow Butterfly(ies) that usually lights up my heart when I'm too sad or too outraged with what's going on in my life. It was always so nice seeing one, much more if I saw two because I took it as the universe's, and of course God's, way of telling me everything will be okay.
So you can imagine my surprise when today, at past 8 tonight (let me clue everyone in, I'm in the UK and the sun doesn't set well over 10:30pm here), as I was hauling out the garbage out in front of my building, I saw two yellow butterflies in their fluttering glory.
To express how dramatic this is for me, I don't think I have ever been through anything as hard as I have this last few months but I have not seen one yellow butterfly since touching down at the airport almost 5 months ago. And now that I think about it, it's all very symbolic that they chose to show themselves now when I think I finally got my footing back.
I know I'm going to be okay.
And I know it's silly to light up just because some random pair of insects happen to appear when they do but it's given me that kind of comfort that I think, more than anything, has gotten me through some of the worst phases of my life. And not seeing it until now makes me feel that maybe I am getting a lot more tougher, you know? Bah. I know I'm just rambling now but I don't know how else to explain it but I have always been a believer in signs. Not in just the literal meaning of it but the cosmic twist some things have in them. I don't know about you but some of the more important decisions I had to make in my life, included me asking God for a sign -a sign to somehow clue me in on what He wants me to do and it has always meant a lot to me that He has always delivered.
Lately, there have been so many things happening, coming at me from all angles. Things that are of relative significance to me that sometimes comes in on a little too strongly that I just look up and say to Him, "oh come on, what's this now?". Things that seem all too silly and trivial and not worth mentioning but things that instantaneously warms me up like you wouldn't imagine.
Signs.
To some people, it's merely coincidences and to quote an old friend, it's overrated and it's nothing but a figment of our imagination to give affirmation to what we already know about ourselves and of our lives and maybe he's right. Maybe I'm just amplifying all of this when I should really be better off doing something else and maybe it's a waste of my already deteriorating brain from the boredom it's harboring to keep thinking about all of this randomness.. Maybe it's all just in my head and I'm pumping myself up so much more than I should.. Maybe I don't need anything other than my brain telling me what to do to act on something.. Maybe I'm better off not considering anything out of the norm and reason.. Maybe I've just played all of this too well in my head that it's had so much impact in my decision making and maybe I'm better off without it..
Maybe... But I doubt it.
So you can imagine my surprise when today, at past 8 tonight (let me clue everyone in, I'm in the UK and the sun doesn't set well over 10:30pm here), as I was hauling out the garbage out in front of my building, I saw two yellow butterflies in their fluttering glory.
To express how dramatic this is for me, I don't think I have ever been through anything as hard as I have this last few months but I have not seen one yellow butterfly since touching down at the airport almost 5 months ago. And now that I think about it, it's all very symbolic that they chose to show themselves now when I think I finally got my footing back.
I know I'm going to be okay.
And I know it's silly to light up just because some random pair of insects happen to appear when they do but it's given me that kind of comfort that I think, more than anything, has gotten me through some of the worst phases of my life. And not seeing it until now makes me feel that maybe I am getting a lot more tougher, you know? Bah. I know I'm just rambling now but I don't know how else to explain it but I have always been a believer in signs. Not in just the literal meaning of it but the cosmic twist some things have in them. I don't know about you but some of the more important decisions I had to make in my life, included me asking God for a sign -a sign to somehow clue me in on what He wants me to do and it has always meant a lot to me that He has always delivered.
Lately, there have been so many things happening, coming at me from all angles. Things that are of relative significance to me that sometimes comes in on a little too strongly that I just look up and say to Him, "oh come on, what's this now?". Things that seem all too silly and trivial and not worth mentioning but things that instantaneously warms me up like you wouldn't imagine.
Signs.
To some people, it's merely coincidences and to quote an old friend, it's overrated and it's nothing but a figment of our imagination to give affirmation to what we already know about ourselves and of our lives and maybe he's right. Maybe I'm just amplifying all of this when I should really be better off doing something else and maybe it's a waste of my already deteriorating brain from the boredom it's harboring to keep thinking about all of this randomness.. Maybe it's all just in my head and I'm pumping myself up so much more than I should.. Maybe I don't need anything other than my brain telling me what to do to act on something.. Maybe I'm better off not considering anything out of the norm and reason.. Maybe I've just played all of this too well in my head that it's had so much impact in my decision making and maybe I'm better off without it..
Maybe... But I doubt it.
Rambling
1 DTT MED VEG/CHS
1 DTT SPCY PPRN/CH
1 CP MSHRM RAVIOLI
1 CP CHSE GRLC & HR
1 GARLIC BAGUETTES
1 BERTOLLI SAUCE
1 BERT PECORINO
2 CP C TOFFEE ICRM
4 DOLMIO EXPRESS
2 BOLONGESE SAUCE
2 CP STREAKY BACON
2 CP RCTT CHS & SP
1 FAJITAS KIT
1 CP BASMATI RICE
1 SPRNOODLES BBQ BF
1 SPRNOODLES CH MN
1 CP SPAGHETTI
1 PHILADELPHIA ORG
1 RAGU ORIGINAL
2 CP LN STK MINCE
1 WARBS FARMHOUSE
2 SPAM PORK/HAM
1 CORNED BEEF
1 CP FRSH PAST MLK
1 CP GRTD MOZZRLA
1 DISCOVERY SALSA
1 FRSH SCNT DSH WASH
With all of that, you wouldn't think I could have left anything out but I did.. Oh boy I did. I forgot to buy vegetables for the Fajitas which in retrospect is okay since I don't really know when I'll be having it anyway and for sure it'd just rot away if I leave it too long.. I forgot to buy Butter, mayonnaise, eggs, fish and chips (oh, erm fries).. I was supposed to grab some strawberries but that skipped my mind as well. Then again, if I bought anymore, I think I would have damaged my arms because what I took home was already quite heavy. I had to stop twice (which was a lot considering I live so close to the co-op) cause the bags felt they were going to break and so were my arms but I'm here, typing away which clears that up.
I like doing the groceries. I actually enjoy going aisle per aisle grabbing what I need and thinking of what goes well with what. Well, I enjoy doing it here anyways. I didn't really do much grocery shopping back home. My sister usually took care of it. We both were always out of the house that grocery shopping meant buying only the essentials such as shampoos, soap, toothpaste, basically toiletries. No food because my sister and I didn't ever cook. Not that we didn't know how to but we just never did. We'd wake up at whatever time we needed to and we feed ourselves elsewhere. For over two years, my first meal was mostly brunch. Breakfast and Lunch combined right after my first morning classes at around 1-ish. Then I'd have to make sure that when I get home, I've already eaten unless it's another delivery night for me.
That was my routine for almost 2 years and I've gotten so used to it that during my first month here in the UK, when I was living with EJ and Ed and they were eating thrice a day, it really felt so weird to me. But I guess you really can't teach an old new tricks because there were days when I'd be alone at home the whole day and they'd ask what I ate before dinner, I'd stare at them and think, oh shoot, I haven't eaten anything yet. And I must admit, with me grocery shopping almost every other day, I really only eat once and on some good days, maybe twice. Not because I'm on a diet, not because i'm scrimping but just because I don't feel I have to eat. That explains the barely touched food that are in the trash (bad, I know) and it's no wonder I keep losing weight. I'm down to 44 kilos which I don't think is all that good. Boo.
Yes, people are creatures of habit and this particular one has hers nailed impeccably down.. Anyway.. The point of this entry is.. I don't know. Grocery shopping? My obsession with food? My has-been lifestlye circa 2006? My obnoxious eating habits? I seriously don't know..
But what I do know is that I spent 42.10 pounds on groceries today.
1 DTT SPCY PPRN/CH
1 CP MSHRM RAVIOLI
1 CP CHSE GRLC & HR
1 GARLIC BAGUETTES
1 BERTOLLI SAUCE
1 BERT PECORINO
2 CP C TOFFEE ICRM
4 DOLMIO EXPRESS
2 BOLONGESE SAUCE
2 CP STREAKY BACON
2 CP RCTT CHS & SP
1 FAJITAS KIT
1 CP BASMATI RICE
1 SPRNOODLES BBQ BF
1 SPRNOODLES CH MN
1 CP SPAGHETTI
1 PHILADELPHIA ORG
1 RAGU ORIGINAL
2 CP LN STK MINCE
1 WARBS FARMHOUSE
2 SPAM PORK/HAM
1 CORNED BEEF
1 CP FRSH PAST MLK
1 CP GRTD MOZZRLA
1 DISCOVERY SALSA
1 FRSH SCNT DSH WASH
With all of that, you wouldn't think I could have left anything out but I did.. Oh boy I did. I forgot to buy vegetables for the Fajitas which in retrospect is okay since I don't really know when I'll be having it anyway and for sure it'd just rot away if I leave it too long.. I forgot to buy Butter, mayonnaise, eggs, fish and chips (oh, erm fries).. I was supposed to grab some strawberries but that skipped my mind as well. Then again, if I bought anymore, I think I would have damaged my arms because what I took home was already quite heavy. I had to stop twice (which was a lot considering I live so close to the co-op) cause the bags felt they were going to break and so were my arms but I'm here, typing away which clears that up.
I like doing the groceries. I actually enjoy going aisle per aisle grabbing what I need and thinking of what goes well with what. Well, I enjoy doing it here anyways. I didn't really do much grocery shopping back home. My sister usually took care of it. We both were always out of the house that grocery shopping meant buying only the essentials such as shampoos, soap, toothpaste, basically toiletries. No food because my sister and I didn't ever cook. Not that we didn't know how to but we just never did. We'd wake up at whatever time we needed to and we feed ourselves elsewhere. For over two years, my first meal was mostly brunch. Breakfast and Lunch combined right after my first morning classes at around 1-ish. Then I'd have to make sure that when I get home, I've already eaten unless it's another delivery night for me.
That was my routine for almost 2 years and I've gotten so used to it that during my first month here in the UK, when I was living with EJ and Ed and they were eating thrice a day, it really felt so weird to me. But I guess you really can't teach an old new tricks because there were days when I'd be alone at home the whole day and they'd ask what I ate before dinner, I'd stare at them and think, oh shoot, I haven't eaten anything yet. And I must admit, with me grocery shopping almost every other day, I really only eat once and on some good days, maybe twice. Not because I'm on a diet, not because i'm scrimping but just because I don't feel I have to eat. That explains the barely touched food that are in the trash (bad, I know) and it's no wonder I keep losing weight. I'm down to 44 kilos which I don't think is all that good. Boo.
Yes, people are creatures of habit and this particular one has hers nailed impeccably down.. Anyway.. The point of this entry is.. I don't know. Grocery shopping? My obsession with food? My has-been lifestlye circa 2006? My obnoxious eating habits? I seriously don't know..
But what I do know is that I spent 42.10 pounds on groceries today.
Boredom does kill
Masakit pala sa ulo yon walan ginagawa.
I think I'm about to have an aneurism from all this brain inactivity. I mean to what extent does boredom border over insanity? It's not just boring actually. It's corrupting.. Demoralizing which is at this very minute, brimming over pure hysteria. Ack. This is too sad. It's the same thing everyday, the same meaningless daily grind and I'm personally getting sick of it. I mean I know I am literally living the dream but I guess dreams have a dash of nightmare in them, and boy is this one hitting home..
Trust me, I know, cause I'm this close to getting out of my mind!!
Personally this is all very childish, you don't have to tell me. I know. But it's just.. So.. Ack.. I can't even phrase it. I just feel so incompetent, feckless, inept.. So Lame. I know I'm not making much sense here but okay, let me try to explain. Picture yourself, lounging around the house, just watching the good old telly, slapping on a few bites every now and then, maybe do some reading when the fancy rises then you sleep. Now, try doing that EVERYDAY. Replace the telly with a laptop, eat an average of once everyday not because of diet or scrimping but because you're body clock is wayyyyy zapped meaning you sleep at 6am, wake up at 3pm and when feel the need to eat, it's almost midnight. Tingnan ko lan kun hindi kayo mabaliw.
This has been my routine for the past.. Oh I don't know, 2 months? Yes, there are those occasional days of going out into the city, meeting up with friends and grabbing something to eat here and there which is always fun but my goodness, is this ALL I'M EVER GOING TO DO HERE?
Yes, I know what you all want to say. Try a hobby, do volunteer work, travel, play sports, meet new friends.. And well, some things are just easier said than done. I actually could do volunteer work anytime, I have a contact and all but it's just not something I can bring myself to do. I was really hyped up about that 2 months ago but now it's just an idea that I can't get to.. you know?! Oooh boy, who am I kidding, course you don't.. Because unlike me, you have better things to do.. Boo.
On the flip side, travel is really the best thing I can do but that means spending and although I am well provided for, my not-so-long-ago surprise from my mobile company has left me feeling fuddled for I'd say, as long as I should live so I don't think any unnecessary spending is in the raps for me. I mean don't get me wrong, it's not something that was imposed on me but I think it's time to get a bit more responsible not because it's asked of me but because I damn well need to! RaaaARr! All this is making me sick.
Don't even get me started on my classes, I'm acing them but that's technically nothing to brag about should you know the real deal but that is a story for yet another day... Pfft. Now I feel really sick. Doi.
It may seem that way but i'm not complaining. Am not. This is all I've ever, ever wanted, you know? This is my dream. To live and study abroad. To bask in a different culture. To see the world outside my pearl of an orient home and I really feel like I am totally living the dream. You know? I get it that not very many gets this chance, but I wish I could just be doing something more productive. My brain, my body, ME, I am used to crammings and deadlines and stress-inducing what nots so how do you think I feel?! Boo. This is just low, I know. I'm not complaining and yes, I sound all defensive but I'm not, really. I'm just.. I guess pissed at myself, most of all for letting all of this get out of hand. I should have seen this coming, and well I did but I was too absorbed in the wreckage that has recently been my life.. I know it's not an excuse but.. There, okay. I'm not even going to try.. But it just sucks. I'm not all-knowing but I have a pretty good brain and it is a travesty to spend all my well oiled cells up there on my cranium just on the wonderful world of the internet 24/7. And yes, I am online 24/7. Ask anyone on my YM list or look at my status on the right hand side of this site, see? Ces is Online.. That's cause I'm always online. Pfft. Bugger..
But yes, I am trying to do something about all this. I am done with living in this upside down world. I'm not fit for this. I'm a hip, fun, spontaneous, smart-talking and free spirited girl who came here to conquer the world.. And while it's fun to think about all of this as an overpaid (try excessive) vacation, I don't really buy it. This is bull.. And you all freaking know it.
I must have handed out a million CVs already and no one has called me back for a summer job.. Grr. And now my head hurts.. Okay, my brain too, real bad. I need something to do, anything to look forward to besides checking (I sleep with my laptop beside me) if anyone commented on my multiply or if anyone messaged (or emailed) me while I was asleep (told ya i've become pathetic). And no, ogling at the laptop watching re-runs of Grey's, Gilmore Girls or Heroes DOES NOT COUNT.. Geez. I am better than this.. Buisit. Ayaw na.
*Ces just let out an exasperated sigh*
I think I'm about to have an aneurism from all this brain inactivity. I mean to what extent does boredom border over insanity? It's not just boring actually. It's corrupting.. Demoralizing which is at this very minute, brimming over pure hysteria. Ack. This is too sad. It's the same thing everyday, the same meaningless daily grind and I'm personally getting sick of it. I mean I know I am literally living the dream but I guess dreams have a dash of nightmare in them, and boy is this one hitting home..
Trust me, I know, cause I'm this close to getting out of my mind!!
Personally this is all very childish, you don't have to tell me. I know. But it's just.. So.. Ack.. I can't even phrase it. I just feel so incompetent, feckless, inept.. So Lame. I know I'm not making much sense here but okay, let me try to explain. Picture yourself, lounging around the house, just watching the good old telly, slapping on a few bites every now and then, maybe do some reading when the fancy rises then you sleep. Now, try doing that EVERYDAY. Replace the telly with a laptop, eat an average of once everyday not because of diet or scrimping but because you're body clock is wayyyyy zapped meaning you sleep at 6am, wake up at 3pm and when feel the need to eat, it's almost midnight. Tingnan ko lan kun hindi kayo mabaliw.
This has been my routine for the past.. Oh I don't know, 2 months? Yes, there are those occasional days of going out into the city, meeting up with friends and grabbing something to eat here and there which is always fun but my goodness, is this ALL I'M EVER GOING TO DO HERE?
Yes, I know what you all want to say. Try a hobby, do volunteer work, travel, play sports, meet new friends.. And well, some things are just easier said than done. I actually could do volunteer work anytime, I have a contact and all but it's just not something I can bring myself to do. I was really hyped up about that 2 months ago but now it's just an idea that I can't get to.. you know?! Oooh boy, who am I kidding, course you don't.. Because unlike me, you have better things to do.. Boo.
On the flip side, travel is really the best thing I can do but that means spending and although I am well provided for, my not-so-long-ago surprise from my mobile company has left me feeling fuddled for I'd say, as long as I should live so I don't think any unnecessary spending is in the raps for me. I mean don't get me wrong, it's not something that was imposed on me but I think it's time to get a bit more responsible not because it's asked of me but because I damn well need to! RaaaARr! All this is making me sick.
Don't even get me started on my classes, I'm acing them but that's technically nothing to brag about should you know the real deal but that is a story for yet another day... Pfft. Now I feel really sick. Doi.
It may seem that way but i'm not complaining. Am not. This is all I've ever, ever wanted, you know? This is my dream. To live and study abroad. To bask in a different culture. To see the world outside my pearl of an orient home and I really feel like I am totally living the dream. You know? I get it that not very many gets this chance, but I wish I could just be doing something more productive. My brain, my body, ME, I am used to crammings and deadlines and stress-inducing what nots so how do you think I feel?! Boo. This is just low, I know. I'm not complaining and yes, I sound all defensive but I'm not, really. I'm just.. I guess pissed at myself, most of all for letting all of this get out of hand. I should have seen this coming, and well I did but I was too absorbed in the wreckage that has recently been my life.. I know it's not an excuse but.. There, okay. I'm not even going to try.. But it just sucks. I'm not all-knowing but I have a pretty good brain and it is a travesty to spend all my well oiled cells up there on my cranium just on the wonderful world of the internet 24/7. And yes, I am online 24/7. Ask anyone on my YM list or look at my status on the right hand side of this site, see? Ces is Online.. That's cause I'm always online. Pfft. Bugger..
But yes, I am trying to do something about all this. I am done with living in this upside down world. I'm not fit for this. I'm a hip, fun, spontaneous, smart-talking and free spirited girl who came here to conquer the world.. And while it's fun to think about all of this as an overpaid (try excessive) vacation, I don't really buy it. This is bull.. And you all freaking know it.
I must have handed out a million CVs already and no one has called me back for a summer job.. Grr. And now my head hurts.. Okay, my brain too, real bad. I need something to do, anything to look forward to besides checking (I sleep with my laptop beside me) if anyone commented on my multiply or if anyone messaged (or emailed) me while I was asleep (told ya i've become pathetic). And no, ogling at the laptop watching re-runs of Grey's, Gilmore Girls or Heroes DOES NOT COUNT.. Geez. I am better than this.. Buisit. Ayaw na.
*Ces just let out an exasperated sigh*
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
My Soul
| You Are a Prophet Soul |
 You are a gentle soul, with good intentions toward everyone. Selfless and kind, you have great faith in people. Sometimes this faith can lead to disappoinment in the long run. No matter what, you deal with everything in a calm and balanced way. You are a good interpreter, very sensitive, intuitive, caring, and gentle. Concerned about the world, you are good at predicting people's feelings. A seeker of wisdom, you are a life long learner looking for purpose and meaning. You are a great thinker and communicator, but not necessarily a doer. Souls you are most compatible with: Bright Star Soul and Dreaming Soul |
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
From the Heart
They say bad things always happen to good people and if that were true, then I must be a saint
I'm not going to give you a litany of every awful thing I have been through primarily because I acknowledge the fact that what seems extraordinarily heart-wrenching to me could mean nothing to any of you. I'm also aware that there are by far millions of people out there fighting harder battles than I could ever imagine and basically because I'm tired of relaying my life's pity stories.
But I do want to share what I am going through right now as this is something I think I need to do for myself for the very sake of "putting it out there". There are about a hundred or so drafts in my blog right now, awaiting its publication (onto cyber space) but I dare not because 1. I don't know if anyone's quite ready for what I have to say and 2, more than ever, I don't know if i'm ever going to be ready for what I have to say. My works are a reflection of my soul and of everything that I am about and I don't know if my soul is quite ready for that kind of publicity.
But there are things to say, things I am allowing myself to pour out if only because I think I have earned the right to be heard and to be given the time of day by anyone who should stumble upon this entry.
I have always believed in Love and in what it can do to a person. I believe in its every form, significance and actuality in one's life. It's not just a feeling of rush and gush but more of an enigmatic sensation we most commonly feel towards God, our families, friends, significant others and hopefully, towards ourselves. Other times, a passion becomes a recipient as well as seemingly nugatory material possessions to the untrained eye. It can be a myriad of so many different things and ways of expression but end of the day, it is one thing, apart from death, that we all share.
The ability to love and the hunger to be loved.
I must say I have had quite a journey. I am a living example of unconditional love, reasons branching onto the facts that my family have demonstrated nothing but that in all the years they have put up with my rebellion, lethargy and plain disobedience. My mother has been through an afflicted amount of pain, hurt and disappointment from the very daughter she desperately tried to provide for. Sure, my family had their shortcomings and none of them are perfect but their love for me, has always been the closest thing to that. And I know it's inaudible right now but I feel the same way and in certain levels, maybe even more.
It won't be much of a surprise that I credit everything I am and everything I have become to them. They taught me everything from values, responsibility, independence, confidence, goal-setting, relationships to Faith. It was in the various homes I grew up in (my family loved sharing me) that I slowly formed my ideas about everything in life. It was my mom's knack at befriending (and keeping friends) that defined for me what friendship was about. Seeing my much older cousins dot on me like their own little girl allowed me to explore the inner workings of a guy's mind and my happily married relatives (my grandparents most of all) were my inspiration. At 9, I felt I was ready to take on the world.
Years came and went and the many things I have absorbed from my childhood became my guideposts for everything. I was constantly challenged to stand by my own convictions and honor the value I have set for myself, believing it would always be enough to get me through.
But when everything that used to anchor you in place suddenly unfastens without so much of an explanation rendering you all the more mystified and causing you the kind of pain you only hear about other people going through and you never thought it would happen to you but did, then you know something is terribly wrong. And in your heart of hearts, no matter how you try to hold on, eventually you're going to have to pry your own hands and try saving whatever is left of you.
It has always been my philosophy to give anything and everything I get myself into my very best, my all. This was true with my writing, the dedication I showed in the various disciplines I involved myself in or outside of school and with the people I have met. Many times have I been hurt from disappointments, betrayal and deceit from the very things I have cared about, time and time again, I never learn my lesson. I'm still that same girl who gave until it seeringly hurt. And every single time I would break down, the most common line I hear from people is to, "never give it your all, save something for yourself or else you'll end up with nothing". They all sound like a broken record, really and I know most of them have resented me for "not listening" to their advice at least once during my many meltdowns but I have never thought of handling my affairs otherwise. The way I see it, no matter what has happened, the one who loved true can never lose but for the sake of conversation, I'd rather end up with nothing than to give someone less than everything I could. I don't think I can ever live with myself if I didn't.
And while I always felt in control of how I was dealing with my life, the past 4 months have exhausted my ability to fight, and even taking away whatever hopeful idealism of love, friendship, honesty and trust that I used to be brimming over with. More than the hurt, I am mostly concerned about how scared I am all of a sudden, scared because nothing in my life right now is familiar and it doesn't make any sense either. I was born a fighter, a survivor of the many ordeals I had to face for as long as I can remember but this time is particularly different, not just because it's a lot more painful but because I actually surrendered.
That's a mighty big word but there you have it, I surrendered. I gave up. It's hard to swallow but I guess I just couldn't take it anymore. Can you blame me for wanting to back down after seeing the very things that I have poured so much of myself to, have drawn their swords to fight, me. When all this while all I ever did was fight for them. Yes, it's a sad, sad tale that I don't want to further elaborate due to my attempts at keeping my tact but for sure, none of what I have said even cuts close to what I endured this past months. Seeing the irreparable damage, this is as far as my hands are going to type.
I have recognized the pain, the hurt that came with all of this and I am trying my best to be the bigger person by keeping the past very, very (literally) far away from me. I have taken courses of actions that have raised varied opinions from people whom I know only means well but end of the day, this is as best I could get to healing and moving on. I don't really know whether it's wrong or right but deep in my heart, I know this is the best thing I can do for myself right now.
Sure, there are days when I trip over self-pity and some harder days, I even blame myself for everything but end of the day, I can't anymore beat myself up cause seriously, how much more can I take? I guess I must have really loved and cared for them to actually down myself when I know my hands are sparkling clean. And it has been one exhausting push and pull of who-did-what. Bottomline is; I trusted them, rolled the dice, took my chances and I guess it just wasn't meant to pan out the way I wanted but it doesn't mean I can't be gentle with myself. I deserve a break from all the negativity and although I must admit I have spent quite some time obsessing whether my transgressors even feels remorseful, I am done. I am done hovering over myself blocking any form of light into my already gloom-stricken days.
Through all of this, my one great companion has been my tears, they have always brought me some kind of relief and somehow soothes me. I have always been a crybaby but I don't think I have ever cried as hard (and as much) as I have this past months but it's all good. I do not intend to stifle this by trying to put on a tough girl façade. My tears have always been my way of purging, and they have always been useful in allowing me to feel everything I need to feel. The hurt, the betrayal, the rejection and the humiliation among other things. It has been a whirlwind of emotions but I keep reminding myself that emotions are just that—emotions. They have no intellect and they are very much like the weather in that they will probably change every ten minutes or so. And with the slew of emotions coming at me from all angles, I have resigned to the act of crying over the emotions -the hurt, the pain, the betrayal yada yada yada, and not anymore over the ones who caused them.
While I try to not think of them as much anymore, the path to forgiveness just sucks. I normally don't really have a problem in this area but then again, no one has ever really hurt me this much before. But I know that healing can never be within reach if I leave this out. I would need to eventually forgive them but the thing is, it's hard to just say "okay" to all of it particularly because it is a wide known fact that once it is granted, they will somehow get off scot-free. I know, I know.. It's not really a healthy way of looking at things but can you blame a girl from wanting justice? But then again, I would have to digress that there could be a better way of "looking into all of this". In theory, forgiveness is relinquishing the right to get even. It simply means that you release the offender from their debt to you. I know that sounds like a tall order, because we really need that debt to be paid. Preferably in a pound of flesh and cold blood, thank you! But if that happens, relief is not the byproduct. It only breeds the appetite for more suffering and shame. It is still not an easy thing to do. We are masters at this game called blame-it-on-him-and-her but it is in forgiving those who have hurt us that will lead us to forgiving the very persons we need to forgive the most.
Ourselves.
After all the crying, settling the score between those who have hurt you, the attention now needs to be turned to you. What I have gone through caused me my self-esteem and blinded me of my worth but it is now time to shift the focus on rebuilding that. The crying in itself took quite a lot from me emotionally and after all those negativity, I am now doing myself the favor of reminding myself just how valuable I am. I mean come on, I took a chance and gave it my all. It didn’t work out, but that is hardly my fault. I loved with reckless abandon and that's more than others can claim but more importantly, it's because I survived a horrible devastation. The operative word being ‘survived’ which I think is reason enough to celebrate and yes, forgive myself for whatever it is that I allowed myself to partake in.
And going through that arduous process of forgiving means taking out anything that might just stunt this development. My choice to break away from everything that reminded me of what has happened was my way to detoxify myself. That was me sucking out the poison out of my life. I need my bearing back and I need to surround myself with people who will lift me higher, now more than ever. My path to rebuilding my self-esteem has no place for people or memories that could just impail my recovery. I mean it's bad enough that I went through what I did and it doesn't make it any easier to have people tell you how stupid you were for doing all the things you did when all the red flags were supposedly already up. I mean just because I'm slowly recovering it doesn't mean everything I have been through, every feeling I have harbored have instantaneously dissipated. And now that I think about it, it doesn't do much good hearing anything awful said about my transgressors. I mean yes, a part of me does cartwheels when I hear this or that but end of the day, (and you can slap me silly for this but) I still care. Yes, I am beyond hurt and greatly disappointed but I don't think hearing anything bad about and/or against them will help me up the ladder of healing.
My healing is in an indefinite time continuum. I have acknowledged that healing goes hand in hand with grieving and that, grieving in itself is an altogether different cycle. Time, patience and gentleness is the key to surviving this, I think. I need time to fully exfiltrate all those unwanted energies and ponderings, all of which I intend to wait out with as much time as I see fit. It is with time that I pray to gain perspective and be given (back) the heart to open myself once again to others. Love, friendship and partnerships are things I know I deserve and I refuse to spend the rest of my life bogged down in being this perpetual victim who has given up on the very things that made her insides go wild. Yes, time alone can tell and God alone can provide.
I'm proud to report that none of what I have been experiencing so far has caused a rift between my ultimate love and I. Papa God has always been there, prodding me every now and then to pick up my feet and see the bright, great sun he had set out for me (yes, I seriously think this way). It is in His will that I believe everything will be fine. I know that time will come when I again will experience all the things I am worthy of.
As for my transgressors? I don't really have anything to tell them, at this point. Mainly because I don't want to say anything mean or pretend to say something nice. And all because I am neither a liar nor a hypocrite, I will say nothing more.. Except to a particular somebody, a somebody who will forever take up a seat nestled safely in my heart.. These words are immortal to me and may cause a lot of raised eyebrows but, as that song Matt wrote for me said; I can tirelessly wait.
Yes, I might just have signaled suicide for myself but I don't really care anymore. When you come from a hurt like this, the only thing you really ever worry about is defining what you thought you already lost and from where I'm sitting, that somebody will always define for me true love. Love that yes, seems blind and unglued and oftentimes too much but you see, my take on all of this, is the way doctors treat their patients. It was from watching Grey's Anatomy that I fully heard out loud my very explaination for "putting it all out there". During one episode, George attended to a patient who was brought in brain dead and well, technically and clinically, a goner. He wanted to pronounce him dead on the spot but Dr. Bailey wouldn't hear of it, she asked him to do all the necessary procedures given to anyone needing resuscitation and he carried on with exasperation thinking it didn't make sense to do it seeing he was brain dead but then after some profoundness swooped over him, he finally got why Dr. Bailey specifically ordered every routine resuscitory procedure done to the patient. And I quote: "I now know why we have to go through the whole routinary procedure, to be able to tell the patient's family we did everything we could to save him."
And that my friends, is the exact same reason why I give and love the way I do, and why despite everything, I would do nothing differently. It's to be able to tell myself, not as a consolation but as an affirmation that I indeed, gave him, gave them, my all.
Only that can paint everything with sense, and that alone can make the tears and all, worth it.
I'm not going to give you a litany of every awful thing I have been through primarily because I acknowledge the fact that what seems extraordinarily heart-wrenching to me could mean nothing to any of you. I'm also aware that there are by far millions of people out there fighting harder battles than I could ever imagine and basically because I'm tired of relaying my life's pity stories.
But I do want to share what I am going through right now as this is something I think I need to do for myself for the very sake of "putting it out there". There are about a hundred or so drafts in my blog right now, awaiting its publication (onto cyber space) but I dare not because 1. I don't know if anyone's quite ready for what I have to say and 2, more than ever, I don't know if i'm ever going to be ready for what I have to say. My works are a reflection of my soul and of everything that I am about and I don't know if my soul is quite ready for that kind of publicity.
But there are things to say, things I am allowing myself to pour out if only because I think I have earned the right to be heard and to be given the time of day by anyone who should stumble upon this entry.
I have always believed in Love and in what it can do to a person. I believe in its every form, significance and actuality in one's life. It's not just a feeling of rush and gush but more of an enigmatic sensation we most commonly feel towards God, our families, friends, significant others and hopefully, towards ourselves. Other times, a passion becomes a recipient as well as seemingly nugatory material possessions to the untrained eye. It can be a myriad of so many different things and ways of expression but end of the day, it is one thing, apart from death, that we all share.
The ability to love and the hunger to be loved.
I must say I have had quite a journey. I am a living example of unconditional love, reasons branching onto the facts that my family have demonstrated nothing but that in all the years they have put up with my rebellion, lethargy and plain disobedience. My mother has been through an afflicted amount of pain, hurt and disappointment from the very daughter she desperately tried to provide for. Sure, my family had their shortcomings and none of them are perfect but their love for me, has always been the closest thing to that. And I know it's inaudible right now but I feel the same way and in certain levels, maybe even more.
It won't be much of a surprise that I credit everything I am and everything I have become to them. They taught me everything from values, responsibility, independence, confidence, goal-setting, relationships to Faith. It was in the various homes I grew up in (my family loved sharing me) that I slowly formed my ideas about everything in life. It was my mom's knack at befriending (and keeping friends) that defined for me what friendship was about. Seeing my much older cousins dot on me like their own little girl allowed me to explore the inner workings of a guy's mind and my happily married relatives (my grandparents most of all) were my inspiration. At 9, I felt I was ready to take on the world.
Years came and went and the many things I have absorbed from my childhood became my guideposts for everything. I was constantly challenged to stand by my own convictions and honor the value I have set for myself, believing it would always be enough to get me through.
But when everything that used to anchor you in place suddenly unfastens without so much of an explanation rendering you all the more mystified and causing you the kind of pain you only hear about other people going through and you never thought it would happen to you but did, then you know something is terribly wrong. And in your heart of hearts, no matter how you try to hold on, eventually you're going to have to pry your own hands and try saving whatever is left of you.
It has always been my philosophy to give anything and everything I get myself into my very best, my all. This was true with my writing, the dedication I showed in the various disciplines I involved myself in or outside of school and with the people I have met. Many times have I been hurt from disappointments, betrayal and deceit from the very things I have cared about, time and time again, I never learn my lesson. I'm still that same girl who gave until it seeringly hurt. And every single time I would break down, the most common line I hear from people is to, "never give it your all, save something for yourself or else you'll end up with nothing". They all sound like a broken record, really and I know most of them have resented me for "not listening" to their advice at least once during my many meltdowns but I have never thought of handling my affairs otherwise. The way I see it, no matter what has happened, the one who loved true can never lose but for the sake of conversation, I'd rather end up with nothing than to give someone less than everything I could. I don't think I can ever live with myself if I didn't.
And while I always felt in control of how I was dealing with my life, the past 4 months have exhausted my ability to fight, and even taking away whatever hopeful idealism of love, friendship, honesty and trust that I used to be brimming over with. More than the hurt, I am mostly concerned about how scared I am all of a sudden, scared because nothing in my life right now is familiar and it doesn't make any sense either. I was born a fighter, a survivor of the many ordeals I had to face for as long as I can remember but this time is particularly different, not just because it's a lot more painful but because I actually surrendered.
That's a mighty big word but there you have it, I surrendered. I gave up. It's hard to swallow but I guess I just couldn't take it anymore. Can you blame me for wanting to back down after seeing the very things that I have poured so much of myself to, have drawn their swords to fight, me. When all this while all I ever did was fight for them. Yes, it's a sad, sad tale that I don't want to further elaborate due to my attempts at keeping my tact but for sure, none of what I have said even cuts close to what I endured this past months. Seeing the irreparable damage, this is as far as my hands are going to type.
I have recognized the pain, the hurt that came with all of this and I am trying my best to be the bigger person by keeping the past very, very (literally) far away from me. I have taken courses of actions that have raised varied opinions from people whom I know only means well but end of the day, this is as best I could get to healing and moving on. I don't really know whether it's wrong or right but deep in my heart, I know this is the best thing I can do for myself right now.
Sure, there are days when I trip over self-pity and some harder days, I even blame myself for everything but end of the day, I can't anymore beat myself up cause seriously, how much more can I take? I guess I must have really loved and cared for them to actually down myself when I know my hands are sparkling clean. And it has been one exhausting push and pull of who-did-what. Bottomline is; I trusted them, rolled the dice, took my chances and I guess it just wasn't meant to pan out the way I wanted but it doesn't mean I can't be gentle with myself. I deserve a break from all the negativity and although I must admit I have spent quite some time obsessing whether my transgressors even feels remorseful, I am done. I am done hovering over myself blocking any form of light into my already gloom-stricken days.
Through all of this, my one great companion has been my tears, they have always brought me some kind of relief and somehow soothes me. I have always been a crybaby but I don't think I have ever cried as hard (and as much) as I have this past months but it's all good. I do not intend to stifle this by trying to put on a tough girl façade. My tears have always been my way of purging, and they have always been useful in allowing me to feel everything I need to feel. The hurt, the betrayal, the rejection and the humiliation among other things. It has been a whirlwind of emotions but I keep reminding myself that emotions are just that—emotions. They have no intellect and they are very much like the weather in that they will probably change every ten minutes or so. And with the slew of emotions coming at me from all angles, I have resigned to the act of crying over the emotions -the hurt, the pain, the betrayal yada yada yada, and not anymore over the ones who caused them.
While I try to not think of them as much anymore, the path to forgiveness just sucks. I normally don't really have a problem in this area but then again, no one has ever really hurt me this much before. But I know that healing can never be within reach if I leave this out. I would need to eventually forgive them but the thing is, it's hard to just say "okay" to all of it particularly because it is a wide known fact that once it is granted, they will somehow get off scot-free. I know, I know.. It's not really a healthy way of looking at things but can you blame a girl from wanting justice? But then again, I would have to digress that there could be a better way of "looking into all of this". In theory, forgiveness is relinquishing the right to get even. It simply means that you release the offender from their debt to you. I know that sounds like a tall order, because we really need that debt to be paid. Preferably in a pound of flesh and cold blood, thank you! But if that happens, relief is not the byproduct. It only breeds the appetite for more suffering and shame. It is still not an easy thing to do. We are masters at this game called blame-it-on-him-and-her but it is in forgiving those who have hurt us that will lead us to forgiving the very persons we need to forgive the most.
Ourselves.
After all the crying, settling the score between those who have hurt you, the attention now needs to be turned to you. What I have gone through caused me my self-esteem and blinded me of my worth but it is now time to shift the focus on rebuilding that. The crying in itself took quite a lot from me emotionally and after all those negativity, I am now doing myself the favor of reminding myself just how valuable I am. I mean come on, I took a chance and gave it my all. It didn’t work out, but that is hardly my fault. I loved with reckless abandon and that's more than others can claim but more importantly, it's because I survived a horrible devastation. The operative word being ‘survived’ which I think is reason enough to celebrate and yes, forgive myself for whatever it is that I allowed myself to partake in.
And going through that arduous process of forgiving means taking out anything that might just stunt this development. My choice to break away from everything that reminded me of what has happened was my way to detoxify myself. That was me sucking out the poison out of my life. I need my bearing back and I need to surround myself with people who will lift me higher, now more than ever. My path to rebuilding my self-esteem has no place for people or memories that could just impail my recovery. I mean it's bad enough that I went through what I did and it doesn't make it any easier to have people tell you how stupid you were for doing all the things you did when all the red flags were supposedly already up. I mean just because I'm slowly recovering it doesn't mean everything I have been through, every feeling I have harbored have instantaneously dissipated. And now that I think about it, it doesn't do much good hearing anything awful said about my transgressors. I mean yes, a part of me does cartwheels when I hear this or that but end of the day, (and you can slap me silly for this but) I still care. Yes, I am beyond hurt and greatly disappointed but I don't think hearing anything bad about and/or against them will help me up the ladder of healing.
My healing is in an indefinite time continuum. I have acknowledged that healing goes hand in hand with grieving and that, grieving in itself is an altogether different cycle. Time, patience and gentleness is the key to surviving this, I think. I need time to fully exfiltrate all those unwanted energies and ponderings, all of which I intend to wait out with as much time as I see fit. It is with time that I pray to gain perspective and be given (back) the heart to open myself once again to others. Love, friendship and partnerships are things I know I deserve and I refuse to spend the rest of my life bogged down in being this perpetual victim who has given up on the very things that made her insides go wild. Yes, time alone can tell and God alone can provide.
I'm proud to report that none of what I have been experiencing so far has caused a rift between my ultimate love and I. Papa God has always been there, prodding me every now and then to pick up my feet and see the bright, great sun he had set out for me (yes, I seriously think this way). It is in His will that I believe everything will be fine. I know that time will come when I again will experience all the things I am worthy of.
As for my transgressors? I don't really have anything to tell them, at this point. Mainly because I don't want to say anything mean or pretend to say something nice. And all because I am neither a liar nor a hypocrite, I will say nothing more.. Except to a particular somebody, a somebody who will forever take up a seat nestled safely in my heart.. These words are immortal to me and may cause a lot of raised eyebrows but, as that song Matt wrote for me said; I can tirelessly wait.
Yes, I might just have signaled suicide for myself but I don't really care anymore. When you come from a hurt like this, the only thing you really ever worry about is defining what you thought you already lost and from where I'm sitting, that somebody will always define for me true love. Love that yes, seems blind and unglued and oftentimes too much but you see, my take on all of this, is the way doctors treat their patients. It was from watching Grey's Anatomy that I fully heard out loud my very explaination for "putting it all out there". During one episode, George attended to a patient who was brought in brain dead and well, technically and clinically, a goner. He wanted to pronounce him dead on the spot but Dr. Bailey wouldn't hear of it, she asked him to do all the necessary procedures given to anyone needing resuscitation and he carried on with exasperation thinking it didn't make sense to do it seeing he was brain dead but then after some profoundness swooped over him, he finally got why Dr. Bailey specifically ordered every routine resuscitory procedure done to the patient. And I quote: "I now know why we have to go through the whole routinary procedure, to be able to tell the patient's family we did everything we could to save him."
And that my friends, is the exact same reason why I give and love the way I do, and why despite everything, I would do nothing differently. It's to be able to tell myself, not as a consolation but as an affirmation that I indeed, gave him, gave them, my all.
Only that can paint everything with sense, and that alone can make the tears and all, worth it.
From the Heart
They say bad things always happen to good people and if that were true, then I must be a saint
I'm not going to give you a litany of every awful thing I have been through primarily because I acknowledge the fact that what seems extraordinarily heart-wrenching to me could mean nothing to any of you. I'm also aware that there are by far millions of people out there fighting harder battles than I could ever imagine and basically because I'm tired of relaying my life's pity stories.
But I do want to share what I am going through right now as this is something I think I need to do for myself for the very sake of "putting it out there". There are about a hundred or so drafts in my blog right now, awaiting its publication (onto cyber space) but I dare not because 1. I don't know if anyone's quite ready for what I have to say and 2, more than ever, I don't know if i'm ever going to be ready for what I have to say. My works are a reflection of my soul and of everything that I am about and I don't know if my soul is quite ready for that kind of publicity.
But there are things to say, things I am allowing myself to pour out if only because I think I have earned the right to be heard and to be given the time of day by anyone who should stumble upon this entry.
I have always believed in Love and in what it can do to a person. I believe in its every form, significance and actuality in one's life. It's not just a feeling of rush and gush but more of an enigmatic sensation we most commonly feel towards God, our families, friends, significant others and hopefully, towards ourselves. Other times, a passion becomes a recipient as well as seemingly nugatory material possessions to the untrained eye. It can be a myriad of so many different things and ways of expression but end of the day, it is one thing, apart from death, that we all share.
The ability to love and the hunger to be loved.
I must say I have had quite a journey. I am a living example of unconditional love, reasons branching onto the facts that my family have demonstrated nothing but that in all the years they have put up with my rebellion, lethargy and plain disobedience. My mother has been through an afflicted amount of pain, hurt and disappointment from the very daughter she desperately tried to provide for. Sure, my family had their shortcomings and none of them are perfect but their love for me, has always been the closest thing to that. And I know it's inaudible right now but I feel the same way and in certain levels, maybe even more.
It won't be much of a surprise that I credit everything I am and everything I have become to them. They taught me everything from values, responsibility, independence, confidence, goal-setting, relationships to Faith. It was in the various homes I grew up in (my family loved sharing me) that I slowly formed my ideas about everything in life. It was my mom's knack at befriending (and keeping friends) that defined for me what friendship was about. Seeing my much older cousins dot on me like their own little girl allowed me to explore the inner workings of a guy's mind and my happily married relatives (my grandparents most of all) were my inspiration. At 9, I felt I was ready to take on the world.
Years came and went and the many things I have absorbed from my childhood became my guideposts for everything. I was constantly challenged to stand by my own convictions and honor the value I have set for myself, believing it would always be enough to get me through.
But when everything that used to anchor you in place suddenly unfastens without so much of an explanation rendering you all the more mystified and causing you the kind of pain you only hear about other people going through and you never thought it would happen to you but did, then you know something is terribly wrong. And in your heart of hearts, no matter how you try to hold on, eventually you're going to have to pry your own hands and try saving whatever is left of you.
It has always been my philosophy to give anything and everything I get myself into my very best, my all. This was true with my writing, the dedication I showed in the various disciplines I involved myself in or outside of school and with the people I have met. Many times have I been hurt from disappointments, betrayal and deceit from the very things I have cared about, time and time again, I never learn my lesson. I'm still that same girl who gave until it seeringly hurt. And every single time I would break down, the most common line I hear from people is to, "never give it your all, save something for yourself or else you'll end up with nothing". They all sound like a broken record, really and I know most of them have resented me for "not listening" to their advice at least once during my many meltdowns but I have never thought of handling my affairs otherwise. The way I see it, no matter what has happened, the one who loved true can never lose but for the sake of conversation, I'd rather end up with nothing than to give someone less than everything I could. I don't think I can ever live with myself if I didn't.
And while I always felt in control of how I was dealing with my life, the past 4 months have exhausted my ability to fight, and even taking away whatever hopeful idealism of love, friendship, honesty and trust that I used to be brimming over with. More than the hurt, I am mostly concerned about how scared I am all of a sudden, scared because nothing in my life right now is familiar and it doesn't make any sense either. I was born a fighter, a survivor of the many ordeals I had to face for as long as I can remember but this time is particularly different, not just because it's a lot more painful but because I actually surrendered.
That's a mighty big word but there you have it, I surrendered. I gave up. It's hard to swallow but I guess I just couldn't take it anymore. Can you blame me for wanting to back down after seeing the very things that I have poured so much of myself to, have drawn their swords to fight, me. When all this while all I ever did was fight for them. Yes, it's a sad, sad tale that I don't want to further elaborate due to my attempts at keeping my tact but for sure, none of what I have said even cuts close to what I endured this past months. Seeing the irreparable damage, this is as far as my hands are going to type.
I have recognized the pain, the hurt that came with all of this and I am trying my best to be the bigger person by keeping the past very, very (literally) far away from me. I have taken courses of actions that have raised varied opinions from people whom I know only means well but end of the day, this is as best I could get to healing and moving on. I don't really know whether it's wrong or right but deep in my heart, I know this is the best thing I can do for myself right now.
Sure, there are days when I trip over self-pity and some harder days, I even blame myself for everything but end of the day, I can't anymore beat myself up cause seriously, how much more can I take? I guess I must have really loved and cared for them to actually down myself when I know my hands are sparkling clean. And it has been one exhausting push and pull of who-did-what. Bottomline is; I trusted them, rolled the dice, took my chances and I guess it just wasn't meant to pan out the way I wanted but it doesn't mean I can't be gentle with myself. I deserve a break from all the negativity and although I must admit I have spent quite some time obsessing whether my transgressors even feels remorseful, I am done. I am done hovering over myself blocking any form of light into my already gloom-stricken days.
Through all of this, my one great companion has been my tears, they have always brought me some kind of relief and somehow soothes me. I have always been a crybaby but I don't think I have ever cried as hard (and as much) as I have this past months but it's all good. I do not intend to stifle this by trying to put on a tough girl façade. My tears have always been my way of purging, and they have always been useful in allowing me to feel everything I need to feel. The hurt, the betrayal, the rejection and the humiliation among other things. It has been a whirlwind of emotions but I keep reminding myself that emotions are just that—emotions. They have no intellect and they are very much like the weather in that they will probably change every ten minutes or so. And with the slew of emotions coming at me from all angles, I have resigned to the act of crying over the emotions -the hurt, the pain, the betrayal yada yada yada, and not anymore over the ones who caused them.
While I try to not think of them as much anymore, the path to forgiveness just sucks. I normally don't really have a problem in this area but then again, no one has ever really hurt me this much before. But I know that healing can never be within reach if I leave this out. I would need to eventually forgive them but the thing is, it's hard to just say "okay" to all of it particularly because it is a wide known fact that once it is granted, they will somehow get off scot-free. I know, I know.. It's not really a healthy way of looking at things but can you blame a girl from wanting justice? But then again, I would have to digress that there could be a better way of "looking into all of this". In theory, forgiveness is relinquishing the right to get even. It simply means that you release the offender from their debt to you. I know that sounds like a tall order, because we really need that debt to be paid. Preferably in a pound of flesh and cold blood, thank you! But if that happens, relief is not the byproduct. It only breeds the appetite for more suffering and shame. It is still not an easy thing to do. We are masters at this game called blame-it-on-him-and-her but it is in forgiving those who have hurt us that will lead us to forgiving the very persons we need to forgive the most.
Ourselves.
After all the crying, settling the score between those who have hurt you, the attention now needs to be turned to you. What I have gone through caused me my self-esteem and blinded me of my worth but it is now time to shift the focus on rebuilding that. The crying in itself took quite a lot from me emotionally and after all those negativity, I am now doing myself the favor of reminding myself just how valuable I am. I mean come on, I took a chance and gave it my all. It didn’t work out, but that is hardly my fault. I loved with reckless abandon and that's more than others can claim but more importantly, it's because I survived a horrible devastation. The operative word being ‘survived’ which I think is reason enough to celebrate and yes, forgive myself for whatever it is that I allowed myself to partake in.
And going through that arduous process of forgiving means taking out anything that might just stunt this development. My choice to break away from everything that reminded me of what has happened was my way to detoxify myself. That was me sucking out the poison out of my life. I need my bearing back and I need to surround myself with people who will lift me higher, now more than ever. My path to rebuilding my self-esteem has no place for people or memories that could just impail my recovery. I mean it's bad enough that I went through what I did and it doesn't make it any easier to have people tell you how stupid you were for doing all the things you did when all the red flags were supposedly already up. I mean just because I'm slowly recovering it doesn't mean everything I have been through, every feeling I have harbored have instantaneously dissipated. And now that I think about it, it doesn't do much good hearing anything awful said about my transgressors. I mean yes, a part of me does cartwheels when I hear this or that but end of the day, (and you can slap me silly for this but) I still care. Yes, I am beyond hurt and greatly disappointed but I don't think hearing anything bad about and/or against them will help me up the ladder of healing.
My healing is in an indefinite time continuum. I have acknowledged that healing goes hand in hand with grieving and that, grieving in itself is an altogether different cycle. Time, patience and gentleness is the key to surviving this, I think. I need time to fully exfiltrate all those unwanted energies and ponderings, all of which I intend to wait out with as much time as I see fit. It is with time that I pray to gain perspective and be given (back) the heart to open myself once again to others. Love, friendship and partnerships are things I know I deserve and I refuse to spend the rest of my life bogged down in being this perpetual victim who has given up on the very things that made her insides go wild. Yes, time alone can tell and God alone can provide.
I'm proud to report that none of what I have been experiencing so far has caused a rift between my ultimate love and I. Papa God has always been there, prodding me every now and then to pick up my feet and see the bright, great sun he had set out for me (yes, I seriously think this way). It is in His will that I believe everything will be fine. I know that time will come when I again will experience all the things I am worthy of.
As for my transgressors? I don't really have anything to tell them, at this point. Mainly because I don't want to say anything mean or pretend to say something nice. And all because I am neither a liar nor a hypocrite, I will say nothing more.. Except to a particular somebody, a somebody who will forever take up a seat nestled safely in my heart.. These words are immortal to me and may cause a lot of raised eyebrows but, as that song Matt wrote for me said; I can tirelessly wait.
Yes, I might just have signaled suicide for myself but I don't really care anymore. When you come from a hurt like this, the only thing you really ever worry about is defining what you thought you already lost and from where I'm sitting, that somebody will always define for me true love. Love that yes, seems blind and unglued and oftentimes too much but you see, my take on all of this, is the way doctors treat their patients. It was from watching Grey's Anatomy that I fully heard out loud my very explaination for "putting it all out there". During one episode, George attended to a patient who was brought in brain dead and well, technically and clinically, a goner. He wanted to pronounce him dead on the spot but Dr. Bailey wouldn't hear of it, she asked him to do all the necessary procedures given to anyone needing resuscitation and he carried on with exasperation thinking it didn't make sense to do it seeing he was brain dead but then after some profoundness swooped over him, he finally got why Dr. Bailey specifically ordered every routine resuscitory procedure done to the patient. And I quote: "I now know why we have to go through the whole routinary procedure, to be able to tell the patient's family we did everything we could to save him."
And that my friends, is the exact same reason why I give and love the way I do, and why despite everything, I would do nothing differently. It's to be able to tell myself, not as a consolation but as an affirmation that I indeed, gave him, gave them, my all.
Only that can paint everything with sense, and that alone can make the tears and all, worth it.
I'm not going to give you a litany of every awful thing I have been through primarily because I acknowledge the fact that what seems extraordinarily heart-wrenching to me could mean nothing to any of you. I'm also aware that there are by far millions of people out there fighting harder battles than I could ever imagine and basically because I'm tired of relaying my life's pity stories.
But I do want to share what I am going through right now as this is something I think I need to do for myself for the very sake of "putting it out there". There are about a hundred or so drafts in my blog right now, awaiting its publication (onto cyber space) but I dare not because 1. I don't know if anyone's quite ready for what I have to say and 2, more than ever, I don't know if i'm ever going to be ready for what I have to say. My works are a reflection of my soul and of everything that I am about and I don't know if my soul is quite ready for that kind of publicity.
But there are things to say, things I am allowing myself to pour out if only because I think I have earned the right to be heard and to be given the time of day by anyone who should stumble upon this entry.
I have always believed in Love and in what it can do to a person. I believe in its every form, significance and actuality in one's life. It's not just a feeling of rush and gush but more of an enigmatic sensation we most commonly feel towards God, our families, friends, significant others and hopefully, towards ourselves. Other times, a passion becomes a recipient as well as seemingly nugatory material possessions to the untrained eye. It can be a myriad of so many different things and ways of expression but end of the day, it is one thing, apart from death, that we all share.
The ability to love and the hunger to be loved.
I must say I have had quite a journey. I am a living example of unconditional love, reasons branching onto the facts that my family have demonstrated nothing but that in all the years they have put up with my rebellion, lethargy and plain disobedience. My mother has been through an afflicted amount of pain, hurt and disappointment from the very daughter she desperately tried to provide for. Sure, my family had their shortcomings and none of them are perfect but their love for me, has always been the closest thing to that. And I know it's inaudible right now but I feel the same way and in certain levels, maybe even more.
It won't be much of a surprise that I credit everything I am and everything I have become to them. They taught me everything from values, responsibility, independence, confidence, goal-setting, relationships to Faith. It was in the various homes I grew up in (my family loved sharing me) that I slowly formed my ideas about everything in life. It was my mom's knack at befriending (and keeping friends) that defined for me what friendship was about. Seeing my much older cousins dot on me like their own little girl allowed me to explore the inner workings of a guy's mind and my happily married relatives (my grandparents most of all) were my inspiration. At 9, I felt I was ready to take on the world.
Years came and went and the many things I have absorbed from my childhood became my guideposts for everything. I was constantly challenged to stand by my own convictions and honor the value I have set for myself, believing it would always be enough to get me through.
But when everything that used to anchor you in place suddenly unfastens without so much of an explanation rendering you all the more mystified and causing you the kind of pain you only hear about other people going through and you never thought it would happen to you but did, then you know something is terribly wrong. And in your heart of hearts, no matter how you try to hold on, eventually you're going to have to pry your own hands and try saving whatever is left of you.
It has always been my philosophy to give anything and everything I get myself into my very best, my all. This was true with my writing, the dedication I showed in the various disciplines I involved myself in or outside of school and with the people I have met. Many times have I been hurt from disappointments, betrayal and deceit from the very things I have cared about, time and time again, I never learn my lesson. I'm still that same girl who gave until it seeringly hurt. And every single time I would break down, the most common line I hear from people is to, "never give it your all, save something for yourself or else you'll end up with nothing". They all sound like a broken record, really and I know most of them have resented me for "not listening" to their advice at least once during my many meltdowns but I have never thought of handling my affairs otherwise. The way I see it, no matter what has happened, the one who loved true can never lose but for the sake of conversation, I'd rather end up with nothing than to give someone less than everything I could. I don't think I can ever live with myself if I didn't.
And while I always felt in control of how I was dealing with my life, the past 4 months have exhausted my ability to fight, and even taking away whatever hopeful idealism of love, friendship, honesty and trust that I used to be brimming over with. More than the hurt, I am mostly concerned about how scared I am all of a sudden, scared because nothing in my life right now is familiar and it doesn't make any sense either. I was born a fighter, a survivor of the many ordeals I had to face for as long as I can remember but this time is particularly different, not just because it's a lot more painful but because I actually surrendered.
That's a mighty big word but there you have it, I surrendered. I gave up. It's hard to swallow but I guess I just couldn't take it anymore. Can you blame me for wanting to back down after seeing the very things that I have poured so much of myself to, have drawn their swords to fight, me. When all this while all I ever did was fight for them. Yes, it's a sad, sad tale that I don't want to further elaborate due to my attempts at keeping my tact but for sure, none of what I have said even cuts close to what I endured this past months. Seeing the irreparable damage, this is as far as my hands are going to type.
I have recognized the pain, the hurt that came with all of this and I am trying my best to be the bigger person by keeping the past very, very (literally) far away from me. I have taken courses of actions that have raised varied opinions from people whom I know only means well but end of the day, this is as best I could get to healing and moving on. I don't really know whether it's wrong or right but deep in my heart, I know this is the best thing I can do for myself right now.
Sure, there are days when I trip over self-pity and some harder days, I even blame myself for everything but end of the day, I can't anymore beat myself up cause seriously, how much more can I take? I guess I must have really loved and cared for them to actually down myself when I know my hands are sparkling clean. And it has been one exhausting push and pull of who-did-what. Bottomline is; I trusted them, rolled the dice, took my chances and I guess it just wasn't meant to pan out the way I wanted but it doesn't mean I can't be gentle with myself. I deserve a break from all the negativity and although I must admit I have spent quite some time obsessing whether my transgressors even feels remorseful, I am done. I am done hovering over myself blocking any form of light into my already gloom-stricken days.
Through all of this, my one great companion has been my tears, they have always brought me some kind of relief and somehow soothes me. I have always been a crybaby but I don't think I have ever cried as hard (and as much) as I have this past months but it's all good. I do not intend to stifle this by trying to put on a tough girl façade. My tears have always been my way of purging, and they have always been useful in allowing me to feel everything I need to feel. The hurt, the betrayal, the rejection and the humiliation among other things. It has been a whirlwind of emotions but I keep reminding myself that emotions are just that—emotions. They have no intellect and they are very much like the weather in that they will probably change every ten minutes or so. And with the slew of emotions coming at me from all angles, I have resigned to the act of crying over the emotions -the hurt, the pain, the betrayal yada yada yada, and not anymore over the ones who caused them.
While I try to not think of them as much anymore, the path to forgiveness just sucks. I normally don't really have a problem in this area but then again, no one has ever really hurt me this much before. But I know that healing can never be within reach if I leave this out. I would need to eventually forgive them but the thing is, it's hard to just say "okay" to all of it particularly because it is a wide known fact that once it is granted, they will somehow get off scot-free. I know, I know.. It's not really a healthy way of looking at things but can you blame a girl from wanting justice? But then again, I would have to digress that there could be a better way of "looking into all of this". In theory, forgiveness is relinquishing the right to get even. It simply means that you release the offender from their debt to you. I know that sounds like a tall order, because we really need that debt to be paid. Preferably in a pound of flesh and cold blood, thank you! But if that happens, relief is not the byproduct. It only breeds the appetite for more suffering and shame. It is still not an easy thing to do. We are masters at this game called blame-it-on-him-and-her but it is in forgiving those who have hurt us that will lead us to forgiving the very persons we need to forgive the most.
Ourselves.
After all the crying, settling the score between those who have hurt you, the attention now needs to be turned to you. What I have gone through caused me my self-esteem and blinded me of my worth but it is now time to shift the focus on rebuilding that. The crying in itself took quite a lot from me emotionally and after all those negativity, I am now doing myself the favor of reminding myself just how valuable I am. I mean come on, I took a chance and gave it my all. It didn’t work out, but that is hardly my fault. I loved with reckless abandon and that's more than others can claim but more importantly, it's because I survived a horrible devastation. The operative word being ‘survived’ which I think is reason enough to celebrate and yes, forgive myself for whatever it is that I allowed myself to partake in.
And going through that arduous process of forgiving means taking out anything that might just stunt this development. My choice to break away from everything that reminded me of what has happened was my way to detoxify myself. That was me sucking out the poison out of my life. I need my bearing back and I need to surround myself with people who will lift me higher, now more than ever. My path to rebuilding my self-esteem has no place for people or memories that could just impail my recovery. I mean it's bad enough that I went through what I did and it doesn't make it any easier to have people tell you how stupid you were for doing all the things you did when all the red flags were supposedly already up. I mean just because I'm slowly recovering it doesn't mean everything I have been through, every feeling I have harbored have instantaneously dissipated. And now that I think about it, it doesn't do much good hearing anything awful said about my transgressors. I mean yes, a part of me does cartwheels when I hear this or that but end of the day, (and you can slap me silly for this but) I still care. Yes, I am beyond hurt and greatly disappointed but I don't think hearing anything bad about and/or against them will help me up the ladder of healing.
My healing is in an indefinite time continuum. I have acknowledged that healing goes hand in hand with grieving and that, grieving in itself is an altogether different cycle. Time, patience and gentleness is the key to surviving this, I think. I need time to fully exfiltrate all those unwanted energies and ponderings, all of which I intend to wait out with as much time as I see fit. It is with time that I pray to gain perspective and be given (back) the heart to open myself once again to others. Love, friendship and partnerships are things I know I deserve and I refuse to spend the rest of my life bogged down in being this perpetual victim who has given up on the very things that made her insides go wild. Yes, time alone can tell and God alone can provide.
I'm proud to report that none of what I have been experiencing so far has caused a rift between my ultimate love and I. Papa God has always been there, prodding me every now and then to pick up my feet and see the bright, great sun he had set out for me (yes, I seriously think this way). It is in His will that I believe everything will be fine. I know that time will come when I again will experience all the things I am worthy of.
As for my transgressors? I don't really have anything to tell them, at this point. Mainly because I don't want to say anything mean or pretend to say something nice. And all because I am neither a liar nor a hypocrite, I will say nothing more.. Except to a particular somebody, a somebody who will forever take up a seat nestled safely in my heart.. These words are immortal to me and may cause a lot of raised eyebrows but, as that song Matt wrote for me said; I can tirelessly wait.
Yes, I might just have signaled suicide for myself but I don't really care anymore. When you come from a hurt like this, the only thing you really ever worry about is defining what you thought you already lost and from where I'm sitting, that somebody will always define for me true love. Love that yes, seems blind and unglued and oftentimes too much but you see, my take on all of this, is the way doctors treat their patients. It was from watching Grey's Anatomy that I fully heard out loud my very explaination for "putting it all out there". During one episode, George attended to a patient who was brought in brain dead and well, technically and clinically, a goner. He wanted to pronounce him dead on the spot but Dr. Bailey wouldn't hear of it, she asked him to do all the necessary procedures given to anyone needing resuscitation and he carried on with exasperation thinking it didn't make sense to do it seeing he was brain dead but then after some profoundness swooped over him, he finally got why Dr. Bailey specifically ordered every routine resuscitory procedure done to the patient. And I quote: "I now know why we have to go through the whole routinary procedure, to be able to tell the patient's family we did everything we could to save him."
And that my friends, is the exact same reason why I give and love the way I do, and why despite everything, I would do nothing differently. It's to be able to tell myself, not as a consolation but as an affirmation that I indeed, gave him, gave them, my all.
Only that can paint everything with sense, and that alone can make the tears and all, worth it.
Monday, June 04, 2007
I Love You and Goodbye
One of the most painful things I've had to live through was losing Michael 8 years ago. We were classmates back in Kindergarten and even when his family left for the States, he & I kept close touch. Over the years, Michael dotted on me like any big brother, and though most of our interaction revolved around letters sent to each other and occasional phone calls, Michael to this day remains one of the very few people who really knows me -and that circle hasn't really gotten much bigger.
After more than 5 years, I saw him again that summer of '99. I don't think I can ever do justice to how those days we spent together made me feel so I'm not even going to try, but I do know this: Those weeks definitely holds an irreplaceable spot in my heart and while it ended in bittersweet fashion, it was in those days that I met myself, all thanks to my angel of a friend.
Towards the end of his stay, Michael told me he came home to see me and tell me he loved me, how he's always loved me. Then he told me he had Brain Cancer. He said in 3 days, he would have to head back to the US to have that one crucial surgery that would either make or take his life. I don't think I prayed as hard as I did on that day of his operation, praying that should God grant me one miracle in my life, I hoped this would be it.
I guess God still owes me a miracle. On June 4, 1999, Michael died in surgery.
I remember how hard the news hit me. I couldn't believe someone as lively and wonderful in every way could be robbed of a future. I think I bawled over the whole thing in just one day and decided for myself that I would need to numb myself because I knew the uncanny pain would just render me insane if I didn't. Good thing I did because 24 days later, my grandmother too, passed away.
That year was a particularly dark one for me. The death of my grandfather 3 years before tops the list of the year-I'd-rather-not-think-back-on but '99 was just as horrible and in certain levels, a lot more harder to get through. It was that year that I saw life for what it really was. Hard and most of the time, down right unfair. I realized that life doesn't get easier, or better for that matter. It's us who should aspire to be better and wield ourselves to become stronger. I realized I owed Michael (and everyone else close to me who have gone on) to give living my very best shot, to honor, not the life he could have had (because knowing Michael, being Up There is more than what he could ask for), but the one that he lived with such effortless kindness and compassion.
It's days of reminiscing about someone I have lost forever that I am reminded of the people I have lost but are still very much at an arm's length. People who have exited my life for different reasons, leaving me keloid-scarred which all came with and from very different hurts. They are those who have hurt me, enough to make me give up on them or those I have hurt, enough to make them give up on me. And I guess it's time to move past all the hurts, suck all the poison out and start living the life I foolishly allowed hurt and pain to take over of in all these years. It's time to get cracking on the What's Here Now and on What's Coming Soon than the What if's and the What Could Have Beens.
It's high time to forgiven myself and all those who have come in my life who taught me that love and friendship really does go hand in hand with pain. I have accepted and now I am going to deal. With all of it.
Today is Monday, the 4th of June and apart from this headache (and cough and colds and fever), there is nothing in my life I can really complain about. There are next to intolerable days but there are just far too amazing things in my life that can peel me away from celebrating. Celebrating the 21 colorful years I have had.. Celebrating the years I know will be just as colorful and, Celebrating the people who are, have and I hope to have continuously paint my life with the colors each of them represent. People who have given me every reason to wake up feeling blessed to be alive. People who continues to inspire me just for their very being, existence and the legacy they have left in my life with the most indelible kind of mark. People like my Mother, my best friend Coni, my Grandparents. People like Michael.
Today isn't just about Michael's death, but rejoicing the 8th year he has reunited with the One who loves him the most, and took him out of his misery (from his tumor) to experience the grand life only an angel, deserves. He, after all, deserved it more than anyone else.
And so, to Michael, to the one who's always made my heart smile and sing, Thank you. For Everything. I don't think I can ever fully transcribe how much you mean to me but I'll give it a shot and just say, I Love You.
Let me now share something I found in one of my journals, from circa 1999, written months after he died. He was one of the very few I allowed to have access in my journals; he always encouraged my writing. Even with my not-so-polished grammar back then, he always saw right through me and my words."It's your heart that makes your works so good, it has so much soul", he once said.
A poem for someone who was more than a friend, more than a brother.. Michael was my insides, the force that has kept me together all those years and now that I think back on the years he has blessed my life with his mere presence, I remember one of the very last things he told me before he left; "I'll be okay, I'll be back and who knows, after all this, I might be able to take care of you more".
And I know he's doing just that.
After more than 5 years, I saw him again that summer of '99. I don't think I can ever do justice to how those days we spent together made me feel so I'm not even going to try, but I do know this: Those weeks definitely holds an irreplaceable spot in my heart and while it ended in bittersweet fashion, it was in those days that I met myself, all thanks to my angel of a friend.
Towards the end of his stay, Michael told me he came home to see me and tell me he loved me, how he's always loved me. Then he told me he had Brain Cancer. He said in 3 days, he would have to head back to the US to have that one crucial surgery that would either make or take his life. I don't think I prayed as hard as I did on that day of his operation, praying that should God grant me one miracle in my life, I hoped this would be it.
I guess God still owes me a miracle. On June 4, 1999, Michael died in surgery.
I remember how hard the news hit me. I couldn't believe someone as lively and wonderful in every way could be robbed of a future. I think I bawled over the whole thing in just one day and decided for myself that I would need to numb myself because I knew the uncanny pain would just render me insane if I didn't. Good thing I did because 24 days later, my grandmother too, passed away.
That year was a particularly dark one for me. The death of my grandfather 3 years before tops the list of the year-I'd-rather-not-think-back-on but '99 was just as horrible and in certain levels, a lot more harder to get through. It was that year that I saw life for what it really was. Hard and most of the time, down right unfair. I realized that life doesn't get easier, or better for that matter. It's us who should aspire to be better and wield ourselves to become stronger. I realized I owed Michael (and everyone else close to me who have gone on) to give living my very best shot, to honor, not the life he could have had (because knowing Michael, being Up There is more than what he could ask for), but the one that he lived with such effortless kindness and compassion.
It's days of reminiscing about someone I have lost forever that I am reminded of the people I have lost but are still very much at an arm's length. People who have exited my life for different reasons, leaving me keloid-scarred which all came with and from very different hurts. They are those who have hurt me, enough to make me give up on them or those I have hurt, enough to make them give up on me. And I guess it's time to move past all the hurts, suck all the poison out and start living the life I foolishly allowed hurt and pain to take over of in all these years. It's time to get cracking on the What's Here Now and on What's Coming Soon than the What if's and the What Could Have Beens.
It's high time to forgiven myself and all those who have come in my life who taught me that love and friendship really does go hand in hand with pain. I have accepted and now I am going to deal. With all of it.
Today is Monday, the 4th of June and apart from this headache (and cough and colds and fever), there is nothing in my life I can really complain about. There are next to intolerable days but there are just far too amazing things in my life that can peel me away from celebrating. Celebrating the 21 colorful years I have had.. Celebrating the years I know will be just as colorful and, Celebrating the people who are, have and I hope to have continuously paint my life with the colors each of them represent. People who have given me every reason to wake up feeling blessed to be alive. People who continues to inspire me just for their very being, existence and the legacy they have left in my life with the most indelible kind of mark. People like my Mother, my best friend Coni, my Grandparents. People like Michael.
Today isn't just about Michael's death, but rejoicing the 8th year he has reunited with the One who loves him the most, and took him out of his misery (from his tumor) to experience the grand life only an angel, deserves. He, after all, deserved it more than anyone else.
And so, to Michael, to the one who's always made my heart smile and sing, Thank you. For Everything. I don't think I can ever fully transcribe how much you mean to me but I'll give it a shot and just say, I Love You.
Let me now share something I found in one of my journals, from circa 1999, written months after he died. He was one of the very few I allowed to have access in my journals; he always encouraged my writing. Even with my not-so-polished grammar back then, he always saw right through me and my words."It's your heart that makes your works so good, it has so much soul", he once said.
A poem for someone who was more than a friend, more than a brother.. Michael was my insides, the force that has kept me together all those years and now that I think back on the years he has blessed my life with his mere presence, I remember one of the very last things he told me before he left; "I'll be okay, I'll be back and who knows, after all this, I might be able to take care of you more".
And I know he's doing just that.
I Love You and Goodbye
I knew you all my life but I didn't really care
You loved me all the way I know I haven't been fair
And as you lie there, just waiting for your time to die
All I can do is stand here and watch you as I cry
I have been so heartless, so selfish and so vain
Yet you took care of me, so why are you in pain?
Why are you the one who's hurt? Why couldn't it be me?
Why did God had to let you suffer? Really can't he see?
That i'm the one with all the faults, I'm the one who's wrong
And on that bed of sorrow and death, it is I who really belong
But nothing else can be done now, this is how our fate's to be
I'm to live my life alone, while you're headed to eternity
And as you breathe your last breath..
I cannot help but cry
I never said I loved you
But now I must say Goodbye.
I knew you all my life but I didn't really care
You loved me all the way I know I haven't been fair
And as you lie there, just waiting for your time to die
All I can do is stand here and watch you as I cry
I have been so heartless, so selfish and so vain
Yet you took care of me, so why are you in pain?
Why are you the one who's hurt? Why couldn't it be me?
Why did God had to let you suffer? Really can't he see?
That i'm the one with all the faults, I'm the one who's wrong
And on that bed of sorrow and death, it is I who really belong
But nothing else can be done now, this is how our fate's to be
I'm to live my life alone, while you're headed to eternity
And as you breathe your last breath..
I cannot help but cry
I never said I loved you
But now I must say Goodbye.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Fight or Flight
You can blame it on Grey's Anatomy, a show I am addicted to right now and a show that has provided me a daily dose of (too much) blood, gore -not to mention, surgeries ending in deaths than I could handle or you can blame it on the fact that I have always been, how do I call it, familiar with this but it's only now that I'm fully recognizing it for what it is and what it means to me. It's been my very own cayote chasing me through my entire life like you all wouldn't believe, it has never really left me alone and I daresay I have never fully recovered.
Death is the ending we all share, and all these years of mourning have taught me it really isn't the worst thing that can happen to a person. Because if that was the case, then what do you call the existence of those who are alive but aren't really living?
I have faced death more times than I would like to remember, there isn't anything profound about that either because from experience, you mostly go on autopilot after the fifth. If you're lucky, you might still recognize pain from stomach cramp but it doesn't do anything for you other than add another reason to mourn or grieve or wallow and pine. Not until you're ready to face the world then by all means, mourn and grieve and wallow and pine all you want. But then there's business to take care of -a business called Your Life.
More than anything, my nearly 20 years of bout with death has given me quite a different perspective on Living, Dying and everything else in between. Death, as I said, is not the worst thing that can happen to a person, it might be for those he leaves behind but to a well-oiled mind, it is but another journey. But when a life is lived in such meaningless designs, when otherwise healthy lives are put on the line from something as petty as a love squabble gone awry, it makes me question myself, what in the world has been going on with people?
In just this past month, three of my friends have attempted ending their lives. One actually succeeded. Their reasons are unknown to me and quite frankly, I don't want to know because whether or not I would like to admit it, I am deeply shaken by this whole concept of suicide. Mainly because so many people in my life have gone on, either from illness or ill-handed fate. Fate that has caused many hearts to break from such terrible loss, the fate that allowed so many good people to pass on.. And all the while, it's that same fate that was and still is constantly toyed and challenged with by others who think the world would be better off without them. It's unfair for one to exit this life without so much a choice and just for some other to trash it away like it doesn't even matter.
I do not mean to offend anyone, I'm not sorry for sharing this because these are my thoughts and this is how I feel. It comes off that I'm basically judging those who have tried commiting the act, but I'm not. I said it once and I'll say it again, I don't understand why people do it, ergo I don't have the right to judge. I do however have the right to state my opinion and as you go along, I hope your minds continue to be open.
Since I was 14 until about 2 years ago, 4 close friends have died in succession from freak accidents. Accidents they weren't supposed to be in, accidents that didn't deserve to cut their young lives short -they were all healthy and vibrant whose only fault was to be at the wrong place at wrong time. For most of their deaths, I numbed myself from the pain. I had to, I figured because I was in enough agony dealing with all the other people I have lost before them and I didn't really know how I'd do if I allowed myself to feel but then when so much hurt has been bottling up inside you, one way or the other you're bound to release. You're bound to give in and you're bound to explode and I guess that was evident in the ridiculous amount of tears that have poured out of me in the last 4 months. Couple that with all the crap and sh|t I had to deal with and well, you can pretty much say I was a wreck for most of was has been of 2007.
I don't get a lot of things but if there's one that's a bit on top there, it's how one can inflict damage to oneself. Yes the world is cruel, yes the world is this plethora of all things bad but will things change if you end your life? I don't claim to understand the innerworkings of some people's brains but it just feels so unfair for some people to die without so much of a choice while some irresponsibly decides to take theirs just because they can't stand it anymore. I mean come on, there has got to be so much more people suffering out there but you don't see them hanging themselves. They resort to crying on end, making excessive phone calls for closure or what not, to cussing, to throwing things, ending marriages, relationships, moving out, shutting off other people and the like. Some resort to anger and bitterness and waddle in self pity and most of these people end up looking next to crap but they get on with life, they deal and however we all judge them, they survive the threat of the knife in their hands.
There was once in my life that I felt I couldn't stand it anymore, it was the most painful 60 seconds of my life. I was on the floor, clutching on the phone while my other hand was covering my eyes. My head was throbbing like crazy, my stomach was in a knot and my eyes stung as tears kept gushing out. I was for a moment, thinking about being somewhere else, where there wouldn't be anymore pain, where the tears would finally stop. I had a mirror infront of me and when I saw myself literally looking like hell, I decided to cry more, I actually forced myself to cry harder. I stayed lying on the carpet floor for the next 8 hours and though the pain didn't go away, nor did the longing for that more-peaceful-place flee, I think I did good. I'm glad for going through what I did doing what I did. I can't say that's the right thing for anyone else but it was for me. The pain's still there and they pretty much comes in waves. Big ones, very close together almost always knocking me to shore unconscious but in the light of what I have seen in those around me, this should be enough to keep me standing, I may wobble here and there as I walk but at least I've mustered up the will to keep moving.
But no matter how I have overcome my demons, there are those who unfortunately, didn't do very well. I now think back and wonder, why? What must have gone in their heads for even trying? Is this how they truly want their lives to end? And as I think of my friends, I can't help but think, was there anything I could have done? Being so far away and not being able to there for any of them have put a huge cloud over my head but I guess that was a choice that they made along with ending their lives. They chose to not seek help, they chose to shut everyone out of their lives believing they knew what was best.. They chose to get suckered in that rut of a feeling that left them hopeless at ever being happy again. They chose to walk the path alone. They say in life there are always two roads to take. One is easy and it's only reward is that it's easy. And I guess we all know which road they chose.. And why they did what they did, I don't know.
I guess none of us will ever know, or understand.
This is where I think our conscience comes to play. It is our conscience that dictates to us the choices we make which I think, defines and shows us who we really are. It can spring from simple choices of waking up early, eating right, to not talk behind people's back, to standing up for what you want, fighting for those you love, to choosing to keep your unwanted baby and more importantly, choosing to live. nd it seems an impossible choice to make but if you just look hard enough, the answer's actually pretty easy. In this great scheme of life, death and everything in between, it's not so much of what we've done that counts, but what we have chosen to become. Are we going to face it, run or are we going to quit? Quite usually, it's always a choice between Fight or Flight. And it seems an impossible choice especially with the unsurmountable pain you might be going through, but if you just look hard enough, the answer's actually pretty easy. I know we have all been at that wreched point where pain was uncannily insufferable but seeing you're reading this; what made you choose the other road?
What made you fight?
Death is the ending we all share, and all these years of mourning have taught me it really isn't the worst thing that can happen to a person. Because if that was the case, then what do you call the existence of those who are alive but aren't really living?
I have faced death more times than I would like to remember, there isn't anything profound about that either because from experience, you mostly go on autopilot after the fifth. If you're lucky, you might still recognize pain from stomach cramp but it doesn't do anything for you other than add another reason to mourn or grieve or wallow and pine. Not until you're ready to face the world then by all means, mourn and grieve and wallow and pine all you want. But then there's business to take care of -a business called Your Life.
More than anything, my nearly 20 years of bout with death has given me quite a different perspective on Living, Dying and everything else in between. Death, as I said, is not the worst thing that can happen to a person, it might be for those he leaves behind but to a well-oiled mind, it is but another journey. But when a life is lived in such meaningless designs, when otherwise healthy lives are put on the line from something as petty as a love squabble gone awry, it makes me question myself, what in the world has been going on with people?
In just this past month, three of my friends have attempted ending their lives. One actually succeeded. Their reasons are unknown to me and quite frankly, I don't want to know because whether or not I would like to admit it, I am deeply shaken by this whole concept of suicide. Mainly because so many people in my life have gone on, either from illness or ill-handed fate. Fate that has caused many hearts to break from such terrible loss, the fate that allowed so many good people to pass on.. And all the while, it's that same fate that was and still is constantly toyed and challenged with by others who think the world would be better off without them. It's unfair for one to exit this life without so much a choice and just for some other to trash it away like it doesn't even matter.
I do not mean to offend anyone, I'm not sorry for sharing this because these are my thoughts and this is how I feel. It comes off that I'm basically judging those who have tried commiting the act, but I'm not. I said it once and I'll say it again, I don't understand why people do it, ergo I don't have the right to judge. I do however have the right to state my opinion and as you go along, I hope your minds continue to be open.
Since I was 14 until about 2 years ago, 4 close friends have died in succession from freak accidents. Accidents they weren't supposed to be in, accidents that didn't deserve to cut their young lives short -they were all healthy and vibrant whose only fault was to be at the wrong place at wrong time. For most of their deaths, I numbed myself from the pain. I had to, I figured because I was in enough agony dealing with all the other people I have lost before them and I didn't really know how I'd do if I allowed myself to feel but then when so much hurt has been bottling up inside you, one way or the other you're bound to release. You're bound to give in and you're bound to explode and I guess that was evident in the ridiculous amount of tears that have poured out of me in the last 4 months. Couple that with all the crap and sh|t I had to deal with and well, you can pretty much say I was a wreck for most of was has been of 2007.
I don't get a lot of things but if there's one that's a bit on top there, it's how one can inflict damage to oneself. Yes the world is cruel, yes the world is this plethora of all things bad but will things change if you end your life? I don't claim to understand the innerworkings of some people's brains but it just feels so unfair for some people to die without so much of a choice while some irresponsibly decides to take theirs just because they can't stand it anymore. I mean come on, there has got to be so much more people suffering out there but you don't see them hanging themselves. They resort to crying on end, making excessive phone calls for closure or what not, to cussing, to throwing things, ending marriages, relationships, moving out, shutting off other people and the like. Some resort to anger and bitterness and waddle in self pity and most of these people end up looking next to crap but they get on with life, they deal and however we all judge them, they survive the threat of the knife in their hands.
There was once in my life that I felt I couldn't stand it anymore, it was the most painful 60 seconds of my life. I was on the floor, clutching on the phone while my other hand was covering my eyes. My head was throbbing like crazy, my stomach was in a knot and my eyes stung as tears kept gushing out. I was for a moment, thinking about being somewhere else, where there wouldn't be anymore pain, where the tears would finally stop. I had a mirror infront of me and when I saw myself literally looking like hell, I decided to cry more, I actually forced myself to cry harder. I stayed lying on the carpet floor for the next 8 hours and though the pain didn't go away, nor did the longing for that more-peaceful-place flee, I think I did good. I'm glad for going through what I did doing what I did. I can't say that's the right thing for anyone else but it was for me. The pain's still there and they pretty much comes in waves. Big ones, very close together almost always knocking me to shore unconscious but in the light of what I have seen in those around me, this should be enough to keep me standing, I may wobble here and there as I walk but at least I've mustered up the will to keep moving.
But no matter how I have overcome my demons, there are those who unfortunately, didn't do very well. I now think back and wonder, why? What must have gone in their heads for even trying? Is this how they truly want their lives to end? And as I think of my friends, I can't help but think, was there anything I could have done? Being so far away and not being able to there for any of them have put a huge cloud over my head but I guess that was a choice that they made along with ending their lives. They chose to not seek help, they chose to shut everyone out of their lives believing they knew what was best.. They chose to get suckered in that rut of a feeling that left them hopeless at ever being happy again. They chose to walk the path alone. They say in life there are always two roads to take. One is easy and it's only reward is that it's easy. And I guess we all know which road they chose.. And why they did what they did, I don't know.
I guess none of us will ever know, or understand.
This is where I think our conscience comes to play. It is our conscience that dictates to us the choices we make which I think, defines and shows us who we really are. It can spring from simple choices of waking up early, eating right, to not talk behind people's back, to standing up for what you want, fighting for those you love, to choosing to keep your unwanted baby and more importantly, choosing to live. nd it seems an impossible choice to make but if you just look hard enough, the answer's actually pretty easy. In this great scheme of life, death and everything in between, it's not so much of what we've done that counts, but what we have chosen to become. Are we going to face it, run or are we going to quit? Quite usually, it's always a choice between Fight or Flight. And it seems an impossible choice especially with the unsurmountable pain you might be going through, but if you just look hard enough, the answer's actually pretty easy. I know we have all been at that wreched point where pain was uncannily insufferable but seeing you're reading this; what made you choose the other road?
What made you fight?
Friday, May 25, 2007
Brand New
Hair cuts were always my way of release. Of letting go, of moving on and of saying goodbye. I think this dates back to when my grandfather died 11 years ago and it has been customary for me to change up my hair every time my I was going through something major. Break ups, deaths, overcoming disappointments and the amount of hair chopped off is usually a give-away of how much I'm going, getting or trying to get through. Well yesterday, I had my hair cut.
And while this would ordinarily be a shoe-in with the getting-over-everything category, I think it's far more than getting over things, I think I may have landed a good enough concrete as I walk towards healing. And by healing I mean gradual change; the wound is still there, still quite prone to infection when treated carelessly and still pretty much hurts. The road seems fine from here but I have learned from bitter (and recent) experience that even that can be as arbitrary as the weather and I am in no means letting my guard down, what with those bumpy roads ahead? No way. But I guess now, I'm just buckling up and paying more attention to it than I used to. The road ahead is as deceiving as the horizon, as picturesque as it seems, nothing guarantees your journey to be free from rain, bumps, dead ends and all those other extra spice thrown in to make it a tad bit more of an adventure.
If there's anything that my newly-whittled down hair has done, or rather signaled, it's that I am (finally) embracing the idiosyncratic changes that has been looming over my head, life (and hair) for the past couple of months. I have been fighting the the hurt and the pain all this time thinking it was the best way to wield the situation but it just keeps creeping back to me in gigantic waves very close together as though splashing and knocking me down unconscious. I am deciding to keep moving but letting everything be. Am I making sense? This might help you a bit;
Alice: Can you please show me which way to go?
Cheshire Cat: That depends a great deal on where you want to go
Alice: Oh I don't care really, just as long as I get somewhere
Cheshire Cat: Then it doesn't matter which way you go
Nothing? Hmmn, okay. Let me explain.
For a long time, I was pretty much like Alice, I knew I had so many things I wanted to do, go and see but I have forgotten why and what I was moving on for. All these years I have always driven myself to achieving every single thing I have envisioned myself of doing, and I have. But then now I think it's time I couple that determination with the proper vision. I don't want to feed just my mind anymore, high time I take care of my soul and my soul is yearning for some serious cultivation. So I proposed to myself to get back on track without trying to fix what has happened because at this point, there really is nothing I can do but believe that it will eventually work itself out and I can not allow myself to just sit around watching it "unfold". I am literally picking myself up from that hard thud of a fall, dusting myself and propping myself steady to take yet another step in this journey. I think this will liberate me better, seeing that I have set everything free. I have allowed myself to feel plenty of sad, hurt and all the congested anger? Gone. Free. Au Revoir.
I am letting it all go now and leaving everything the way it was before my world went awry. What's happened has happened, no sense digging it all up and turning it mor into a gordian knot than it already is. Besides, no matter what has happened and no matter how much I deserve to harbor anymore ill-feelings, nakakapagod narin magalit (being mad is exhausting). This anger-business just isn't for me. I have given myself the closure I always thought I needed to get from someone else, I am moving on and if I do look back at all, believe me, it's only to smile back at what has happened because really, so much are going to come out of this, I can just feel it. And since I have never believed that goodbyes always mean the end, along with the chains clamping still the bitter feelings, I am once again unlocking another door. A door I intend to keep open for whatever or whoever may wish to enter; sunshine, daisies & all.
I have never so much as hated anyone and I don't want to start now. It's exhausting and quite pointless, really. And well, I guess it also helps that I truly poured my heart into everything that was my life and it's really not much of a breeze to just chuck it out. Especially if it's one that made your heart beat like no other. I am moving forward, looking onward and though I know I can never go back, I rest on that little thing called Hope (and a dash of Faith) that maybe, those I have let be now, could one day, catch up with me and well, who knows? =)
New hair. New beginning. New reality. New lifestyle. New outlook but.. Same Passions. Same aspirations. Same values. Same indefatigable nature. Same optimism. Same Me.. And the same, same Heart.
The shortest it has been in almost 7 years.
And while this would ordinarily be a shoe-in with the getting-over-everything category, I think it's far more than getting over things, I think I may have landed a good enough concrete as I walk towards healing. And by healing I mean gradual change; the wound is still there, still quite prone to infection when treated carelessly and still pretty much hurts. The road seems fine from here but I have learned from bitter (and recent) experience that even that can be as arbitrary as the weather and I am in no means letting my guard down, what with those bumpy roads ahead? No way. But I guess now, I'm just buckling up and paying more attention to it than I used to. The road ahead is as deceiving as the horizon, as picturesque as it seems, nothing guarantees your journey to be free from rain, bumps, dead ends and all those other extra spice thrown in to make it a tad bit more of an adventure.
If there's anything that my newly-whittled down hair has done, or rather signaled, it's that I am (finally) embracing the idiosyncratic changes that has been looming over my head, life (and hair) for the past couple of months. I have been fighting the the hurt and the pain all this time thinking it was the best way to wield the situation but it just keeps creeping back to me in gigantic waves very close together as though splashing and knocking me down unconscious. I am deciding to keep moving but letting everything be. Am I making sense? This might help you a bit;
Alice: Can you please show me which way to go?
Cheshire Cat: That depends a great deal on where you want to go
Alice: Oh I don't care really, just as long as I get somewhere
Cheshire Cat: Then it doesn't matter which way you go
Nothing? Hmmn, okay. Let me explain.
For a long time, I was pretty much like Alice, I knew I had so many things I wanted to do, go and see but I have forgotten why and what I was moving on for. All these years I have always driven myself to achieving every single thing I have envisioned myself of doing, and I have. But then now I think it's time I couple that determination with the proper vision. I don't want to feed just my mind anymore, high time I take care of my soul and my soul is yearning for some serious cultivation. So I proposed to myself to get back on track without trying to fix what has happened because at this point, there really is nothing I can do but believe that it will eventually work itself out and I can not allow myself to just sit around watching it "unfold". I am literally picking myself up from that hard thud of a fall, dusting myself and propping myself steady to take yet another step in this journey. I think this will liberate me better, seeing that I have set everything free. I have allowed myself to feel plenty of sad, hurt and all the congested anger? Gone. Free. Au Revoir.
I am letting it all go now and leaving everything the way it was before my world went awry. What's happened has happened, no sense digging it all up and turning it mor into a gordian knot than it already is. Besides, no matter what has happened and no matter how much I deserve to harbor anymore ill-feelings, nakakapagod narin magalit (being mad is exhausting). This anger-business just isn't for me. I have given myself the closure I always thought I needed to get from someone else, I am moving on and if I do look back at all, believe me, it's only to smile back at what has happened because really, so much are going to come out of this, I can just feel it. And since I have never believed that goodbyes always mean the end, along with the chains clamping still the bitter feelings, I am once again unlocking another door. A door I intend to keep open for whatever or whoever may wish to enter; sunshine, daisies & all.
I have never so much as hated anyone and I don't want to start now. It's exhausting and quite pointless, really. And well, I guess it also helps that I truly poured my heart into everything that was my life and it's really not much of a breeze to just chuck it out. Especially if it's one that made your heart beat like no other. I am moving forward, looking onward and though I know I can never go back, I rest on that little thing called Hope (and a dash of Faith) that maybe, those I have let be now, could one day, catch up with me and well, who knows? =)New hair. New beginning. New reality. New lifestyle. New outlook but.. Same Passions. Same aspirations. Same values. Same indefatigable nature. Same optimism. Same Me.. And the same, same Heart.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Fogged. Dazed -you name it, I am feeling it.
Wasn't it Benjamin Mays who said, "The tragedy in life doesn't lie in not reaching your goal, the tragedy lies in having no goal to reach." Well, far be it for me to decipher exactly what he really means, I refuse to believe that having a goal is all that should matter. I mean really, how can it?
In this modern world of corporate ladders emerging everywhere; with a society that practically demands you to make something out of yourself, how can goal-setting be all that? Take a good look around, everything is working in clock-work precision, just the way our society's norms have dictated upon us. And these hard-ball lessons in success aren't just circulated by those up there, power suits and all but it starts being hammered to all of us the minute we are able to comprehend a full sentence. I mean think about it, what is the most iterated thing you've heard from your parents? Let me guess, the "you-need-to-study-well-to-be-successful" speech, right? And in all those years of hearing that over and over again, it seems almost impossible for any of us to stray from "success" but as many tales have been told, there are those who made it and those whom you'd rather not speak of. But how are we to know if we've made it? How are we to affirm in ourselves that we've done what we were supposed to do? How do we know we've succeeded? Is it in the mere act of having a goal to zero at the way Sir Mays eloquently concluded? Is it in giving it your best regardless of the outcome? Is it coming out on top? Or is coming out of it at all good enough?
I don't know. But the more I think about it, the more I feel adrift to everything I once grasped on tightly about success and of myself.
I celebrated my 4th official month here in Newcastle this Monday and it was also that day I realized how in just another 4 months, I will be 22. Good God, where the heck have I been!?! I know time flies wicked fast but this is just insane, everything feels strange and I feel stuck in such a daze. I know this is all but normal but you can't blame a girl for wondering, how on earth did I end up this clueless!?! I have always known what I wanted to be, I was always in control of my life and I never really lost track of what I wanted to make out of myself. I had that feisty confidence even as a kid roaring me on to move forward and get on ahead -I always did. I have never so much bummed in my life and even when those times I was positively unglued, I always knew what was to become of me and all of a sudden, when everything should be looking bright, I feel all the more vagabond. And to cap off this already repulsive phase I'm in, I somehow lost my buoyancy making me look like Pollyanna sans the pig tails and rosy cheeks. It's one of those days when you'd rather lay in bed and think about how you got this screwed up only to realize you're doing exactly what has led you there in the first place: complacency, lackadaisical and just, lethargic. And at this point in my life, I think I have but reached that crossroad where laid before me are two roads presenting very different ends without so much of a tocsin as to where the heck you're headed. And that's precisely what's causing this massive dark of a cloud to hover over me and my used-to-be-cloudless thoughts. But all I see now is black, pitch dark. Black.
Without a doubt, my most frightening moment yet.
In the midst of caps and gowns I see in my friends' sites, I am left counting down the days of my own graduation July next year. While things have been looking up for me lately, what with the offer for final year settled and a mighty good chance at landing a newspaper gig come September for my placement, I am still perplexed as to what will become of me in the next year. The thunderous questions of adulthood rings crystal clear in my ear: What Now?!?
What's next?
Law School?
Start up that business?
Work?
Work where?
Stay in the UK?
Move to the US?
Go back home?
Along with my sanity, my train of thought has flown the coup so before I embarrass myself any further, I'd ask you all to stay tuned for Part II.
In this modern world of corporate ladders emerging everywhere; with a society that practically demands you to make something out of yourself, how can goal-setting be all that? Take a good look around, everything is working in clock-work precision, just the way our society's norms have dictated upon us. And these hard-ball lessons in success aren't just circulated by those up there, power suits and all but it starts being hammered to all of us the minute we are able to comprehend a full sentence. I mean think about it, what is the most iterated thing you've heard from your parents? Let me guess, the "you-need-to-study-well-to-be-successful" speech, right? And in all those years of hearing that over and over again, it seems almost impossible for any of us to stray from "success" but as many tales have been told, there are those who made it and those whom you'd rather not speak of. But how are we to know if we've made it? How are we to affirm in ourselves that we've done what we were supposed to do? How do we know we've succeeded? Is it in the mere act of having a goal to zero at the way Sir Mays eloquently concluded? Is it in giving it your best regardless of the outcome? Is it coming out on top? Or is coming out of it at all good enough?I don't know. But the more I think about it, the more I feel adrift to everything I once grasped on tightly about success and of myself.
I celebrated my 4th official month here in Newcastle this Monday and it was also that day I realized how in just another 4 months, I will be 22. Good God, where the heck have I been!?! I know time flies wicked fast but this is just insane, everything feels strange and I feel stuck in such a daze. I know this is all but normal but you can't blame a girl for wondering, how on earth did I end up this clueless!?! I have always known what I wanted to be, I was always in control of my life and I never really lost track of what I wanted to make out of myself. I had that feisty confidence even as a kid roaring me on to move forward and get on ahead -I always did. I have never so much bummed in my life and even when those times I was positively unglued, I always knew what was to become of me and all of a sudden, when everything should be looking bright, I feel all the more vagabond. And to cap off this already repulsive phase I'm in, I somehow lost my buoyancy making me look like Pollyanna sans the pig tails and rosy cheeks. It's one of those days when you'd rather lay in bed and think about how you got this screwed up only to realize you're doing exactly what has led you there in the first place: complacency, lackadaisical and just, lethargic. And at this point in my life, I think I have but reached that crossroad where laid before me are two roads presenting very different ends without so much of a tocsin as to where the heck you're headed. And that's precisely what's causing this massive dark of a cloud to hover over me and my used-to-be-cloudless thoughts. But all I see now is black, pitch dark. Black.Without a doubt, my most frightening moment yet.
In the midst of caps and gowns I see in my friends' sites, I am left counting down the days of my own graduation July next year. While things have been looking up for me lately, what with the offer for final year settled and a mighty good chance at landing a newspaper gig come September for my placement, I am still perplexed as to what will become of me in the next year. The thunderous questions of adulthood rings crystal clear in my ear: What Now?!?
What's next?
Law School?
Start up that business?
Work?
Work where?
Stay in the UK?
Move to the US?
Go back home?
Along with my sanity, my train of thought has flown the coup so before I embarrass myself any further, I'd ask you all to stay tuned for Part II.
Friday, May 18, 2007
A Touch in our Soul
From Rick Warren
Thanks Jade!
Thanks Jade!
Don't date because you are desperate.
Don't marry because you are miserable.
Don't have kids because you think your genes are superior.
Don't phi lander because you think you are irresistible.
Don't associate with people you can't trust.
Don't cheat. Don't lie. Don't pretend.
Don't dictate because you are smarter.
Don't demand because you are stronger.
Don't sleep around because you think you are old enough & know better.
Don't hurt your kids because loving them is harder.
Don't sell yourself, your family, or your ideals.
Don't stagnate!
Don't regress.
Don't live in the past. Time can't bring anything or anyone back.
Don't put your life on hold for possibly Mr. Right.
Don't throw your life away on absolutely Mr. Wrong because your biological clock is ticking.
Learn a new skill.
Find a new friend.
Start a new career.
Sometimes, there is no race to be won, only a price to be paid for some of life's more hasty decisions.
To terminate your loneliness, reach out to the homeless.
To feed your nurturing instincts, care for the needy.
To fulfill your parenting fantasies, get a puppy.
Don't bring another life into this world for all the wrong reasons.
To make yourself happy, pursue your passions & be the best of what you can be.
Simplify your life. Take away the clutter.
Get rid of destructive elements: abusive friends, nasty habits, and dangerous liaisons.
Don't abandon your responsibilities but don't overdose on duty.
Don't live life recklessly without thought and feeling for your family.
Be true to yourself.
Don't commit when you are not ready.
Don't keep others waiting needlessly.
Go on that trip. Don't postpone it.
Say those words. Don't let the moment pass.
Do what you have to, even at society's scorn.
Write poetry.
Love Deeply.
Walk barefoot.
Dance with wild abandon.
Cry at the movies.
Take care of yourself. Don't wait for someone to take care of you.
You light up your life.
You drive yourself to your destination.
No one completes you - except YOU.
It isn't true that life does not get easier with age.
It only gets more challenging.
Don't be afraid. Don't lose your capacity to love.
Pursue your passions.
Live your dreams.
Don't lose faith in God.
Don't grow old. Just grow YOU!
When you give someone your time, you are giving them a portion of your life that you'll never get back.
Your time is your life. That is why the greatest gift you can give to someone is your time.
Relationships take time and effort, and the best way to spell love is T-I-M-E because the essence of love is not what we think or do or provide for others, but how much we give of ourselves.
God is good all the time!
Don't marry because you are miserable.
Don't have kids because you think your genes are superior.
Don't phi lander because you think you are irresistible.
Don't associate with people you can't trust.
Don't cheat. Don't lie. Don't pretend.
Don't dictate because you are smarter.
Don't demand because you are stronger.
Don't sleep around because you think you are old enough & know better.
Don't hurt your kids because loving them is harder.
Don't sell yourself, your family, or your ideals.
Don't stagnate!
Don't regress.
Don't live in the past. Time can't bring anything or anyone back.
Don't put your life on hold for possibly Mr. Right.
Don't throw your life away on absolutely Mr. Wrong because your biological clock is ticking.
Learn a new skill.
Find a new friend.
Start a new career.
Sometimes, there is no race to be won, only a price to be paid for some of life's more hasty decisions.
To terminate your loneliness, reach out to the homeless.
To feed your nurturing instincts, care for the needy.
To fulfill your parenting fantasies, get a puppy.
Don't bring another life into this world for all the wrong reasons.
To make yourself happy, pursue your passions & be the best of what you can be.
Simplify your life. Take away the clutter.
Get rid of destructive elements: abusive friends, nasty habits, and dangerous liaisons.
Don't abandon your responsibilities but don't overdose on duty.
Don't live life recklessly without thought and feeling for your family.
Be true to yourself.
Don't commit when you are not ready.
Don't keep others waiting needlessly.
Go on that trip. Don't postpone it.
Say those words. Don't let the moment pass.
Do what you have to, even at society's scorn.
Write poetry.
Love Deeply.
Walk barefoot.
Dance with wild abandon.
Cry at the movies.
Take care of yourself. Don't wait for someone to take care of you.
You light up your life.
You drive yourself to your destination.
No one completes you - except YOU.
It isn't true that life does not get easier with age.
It only gets more challenging.
Don't be afraid. Don't lose your capacity to love.
Pursue your passions.
Live your dreams.
Don't lose faith in God.
Don't grow old. Just grow YOU!
When you give someone your time, you are giving them a portion of your life that you'll never get back.
Your time is your life. That is why the greatest gift you can give to someone is your time.
Relationships take time and effort, and the best way to spell love is T-I-M-E because the essence of love is not what we think or do or provide for others, but how much we give of ourselves.
God is good all the time!Thursday, May 17, 2007
The End
I have NEVER done this in my entire life.
Sure I have written tributes to very special friends and yes, family. And there were those occasional gushing over a movie or a book or a hunk I read and saw but I don't think I have ever composed an entry solely for a TV Show. But when something that has affected you in levels you never thought possible, then maybe it is okay to make one.
Anyone who's anyone in my life knows that I LOVE THIS SHOW. I have single-handedly turned 20 of my closest friends into fans and though I don't know what has really made them such converts, I guess it's a safe assumption that it's a show rarely forgettable by anyone who sees it. And no, it just hasn't been my girlfriends who have fallen in love with it but my male friends bought their box sets as well. It is dominated by women (duh) but it is the farthest thing from a chick-show. For one, it's wicked smart, hilarious in every pan of the camera and it's one of those shows that just grows on you. For 7 years, I felt I knew Lorelai and Rory. For 7 years I thought I was part of their world and them in mine. Creepy? No, just really a fan.
My Most Perfect Companion
Set in a storybook Connecticut
From the beginning, this unique mother-daughter team has been growing up together. Lorelai was just Rory's age when she became pregnant and made the tough decision to raise her baby alone. This defiant move, along with Lorelai's fiercely independent nature, caused a rift between her and her extremely proper, patrician, old-money parents, Emily (Kelly Bishop) and Richard (Edward Herrmann). However, Lorelai was forced to reconcile with them when she found herself in desperate need of money for Rory's tuition.
Sure I have written tributes to very special friends and yes, family. And there were those occasional gushing over a movie or a book or a hunk I read and saw but I don't think I have ever composed an entry solely for a TV Show. But when something that has affected you in levels you never thought possible, then maybe it is okay to make one.
People of the World:
Anyone who's anyone in my life knows that I LOVE THIS SHOW. I have single-handedly turned 20 of my closest friends into fans and though I don't know what has really made them such converts, I guess it's a safe assumption that it's a show rarely forgettable by anyone who sees it. And no, it just hasn't been my girlfriends who have fallen in love with it but my male friends bought their box sets as well. It is dominated by women (duh) but it is the farthest thing from a chick-show. For one, it's wicked smart, hilarious in every pan of the camera and it's one of those shows that just grows on you. For 7 years, I felt I knew Lorelai and Rory. For 7 years I thought I was part of their world and them in mine. Creepy? No, just really a fan.
My Most Perfect Companion
Set in a storybook 
From the beginning, this unique mother-daughter team has been growing up together. Lorelai was just Rory's age when she became pregnant and made the tough decision to raise her baby alone. This defiant move, along with Lorelai's fiercely independent nature, caused a rift between her and her extremely proper, patrician, old-money parents, Emily (Kelly Bishop) and Richard (Edward Herrmann). However, Lorelai was forced to reconcile with them when she found herself in desperate need of money for Rory's tuition.At the end of season six, Lorelai's elation over her engagement to diner-owner Luke Danes (Scott Patterson) turned to frustration when he learned of the existence of his 12-year-old daughter, April (Vanessa Marano). Luke asked Lorelai to be patient while he came to terms with this life-changing discovery. After difficult months of giving Luke all the time and space she could, Lorelai delivered a tearful now-or-never ultimatum. Bristling under her emotional demand, Luke let Lorelai walk out of his life. A heartbroken Lorelai took comfort in the arms of her old flame and Rory's father, Christopher Hayden (David Sutcliffe).
Rory also faced a tumultuous year, dropping out of Yale after her dreams of becoming a journalist were dashed by newspaper mogul Mitchum Huntzberger (Gregg Henry), who just happens to be the father of her boyfriend, Logan (Matt Czuchry). Rory's reckless behavior led to an unusual and painful parting of the ways between mother and daughter. After a few months spent organizing DAR events for Emily, Rory realized she belonged back at Yale, and she and Lorelai joyfully reunited. Rory and Logan then faced their toughest challenge when she learned of his infidelity during a brief separation. Unable to forgive him at first, Rory realized her love for
As season seven unfolds, Lorelai and Rory will turn to one another to get through the complications in their respective romances. It may be that Lorelai's relationship with Luke has been irretrievably marred now that she has once again let Christopher come between them. Even so, she and Luke still have to co-exist in tiny, close-knit Stars Hollow with the town's watchful eyes on them and all their charged history. Meanwhile, Rory will attempt to keep her long-distance romance with