I thought I saw a light at the end of this very dark, very long tunnel.
For weeks, I have not made an effort to update my dailies. Honestly, I don't know why I even bother. I thought this would finally let me explore the possibilities I have before me. Every few minutes, at the crack of dawn, my mind would swirl with thoughts trying to find their way out of the jungle that is my brain. This was something I thought I could commit to. Something I was finally going to get right. But like everything I am currently trudging through, this is, once again, an epic fail.
I don't know if writing that down would make me feel any better, to tell you the truth, I don't really feel anything right now. Maybe I could fix this.
It's a very long tunnel. And it's starting to feel rather hopeless. But I trudge anyway.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
me. heart. you.
I tried.
To come up with something witty and creative is a feat. Something that doesn't crop up when you need it to or when it is necessary. I cannot say that it comes with practice because I haven't practiced for far too long. I started out thinking that I have this inexhaustible capacity to come up with something good but so far it's been crap. I suppose I always knew that someday I was going to run out of something to write about but I never expected it to happen this fast. I am an uncharacteristically mute writer. So this must be blogger's block.
These past few days, I never got past staring. From the moment I would click that New Post button, the blankness of the unwritten page would swallow me alive. Like Jonah and that monstrous whale. Well, he did get out, I just can't say the same thing for myself. I have no idea how long my brain plans to idle about in this black hole - this mental paralytic state that feels more like a humongous red brick wall that is keeping me enclosed in this state of non-creativity. At least, I can still break down my thoughts into specifics. Obsessive Compulsive feels homey.
But today isn't about me. It's about that person who taught me what happiness is about. Who made a big difference in my life, simply by existing. I am going to risk sounding cheesy here but I don't really care, people.
We've known each other for a couple of years and a half, give or take a few months or so. It was an unlikely friendship but it flourished despite the obvious differences that we have, more so, that we are. If you could turn back time and ask me if I thought we had a chance at a romantic relationship, I would have probably said no. Life is funny that way. You can never be too sure about tomorrow. Like gifts on Christmas, we were always told that we were given what we deserved. No one ever told me what I did right to deserve someone like him. He would always ask me why I love him, as if in disbelief at how I could have given my heart to someone like him. I would always say that I do not know - really I don't - that I just do. I am not really sure about this theory but it is believed that love without reason lasts the longest. I suppose we shall find out in a few years' time eh? I plan on being the truth to that hypothesis.
Shall I make a list instead? I am starting to discover how very convenient lists can be when it comes to things that can never be justified by a simple sentence. Let's call this the "I love it when you..." list.
To come up with something witty and creative is a feat. Something that doesn't crop up when you need it to or when it is necessary. I cannot say that it comes with practice because I haven't practiced for far too long. I started out thinking that I have this inexhaustible capacity to come up with something good but so far it's been crap. I suppose I always knew that someday I was going to run out of something to write about but I never expected it to happen this fast. I am an uncharacteristically mute writer. So this must be blogger's block.
These past few days, I never got past staring. From the moment I would click that New Post button, the blankness of the unwritten page would swallow me alive. Like Jonah and that monstrous whale. Well, he did get out, I just can't say the same thing for myself. I have no idea how long my brain plans to idle about in this black hole - this mental paralytic state that feels more like a humongous red brick wall that is keeping me enclosed in this state of non-creativity. At least, I can still break down my thoughts into specifics. Obsessive Compulsive feels homey.
But today isn't about me. It's about that person who taught me what happiness is about. Who made a big difference in my life, simply by existing. I am going to risk sounding cheesy here but I don't really care, people.
We've known each other for a couple of years and a half, give or take a few months or so. It was an unlikely friendship but it flourished despite the obvious differences that we have, more so, that we are. If you could turn back time and ask me if I thought we had a chance at a romantic relationship, I would have probably said no. Life is funny that way. You can never be too sure about tomorrow. Like gifts on Christmas, we were always told that we were given what we deserved. No one ever told me what I did right to deserve someone like him. He would always ask me why I love him, as if in disbelief at how I could have given my heart to someone like him. I would always say that I do not know - really I don't - that I just do. I am not really sure about this theory but it is believed that love without reason lasts the longest. I suppose we shall find out in a few years' time eh? I plan on being the truth to that hypothesis.
Shall I make a list instead? I am starting to discover how very convenient lists can be when it comes to things that can never be justified by a simple sentence. Let's call this the "I love it when you..." list.
I love it when you...
- When you sing me to sleep at night. When we talk on the phone 'til the wee hours, you would never say no when I would ask you to sing me to sleep. When you would run out of songs to sing, your constant humming is the lullaby that makes me feel at ease. No matter how anxious or agitated I am, when you sing me to sleep, everything is right with the world. I would close my eyes knowing that I would dream happy dreams.
- When you would call me all the possible words that mankind has invented under the category of terms of endearment. When you call me baby or honey, when you would say 'I love you cupcake!' or say 'Hey, sweetie!'
- When you say 'It's okay baby, everything will be alright'. Everytime you reassure me, it makes me feel secured. Still and steady. That no matter what happens, you will always be there for me whispering words of encouragement and I would, immediately, believe that everything will be alright. Because you said so.
- When you laugh. I know, I know, it sounds silly. But I loooovvveee it when you laugh. Just because.
- When you would argue with me about the littlest, and the silliest things. And I especially love it when you would give up and let me have my way.
- When you spoil me rotten. And you often do that without realising that you are doing it.
- When we would fight over the little things and when you would say sorry. It's really cute when you say 'Sorry na...' in that cute baby voice. It makes it hard for me to be angry with you. If you use that against me, I will bash you mister!
- When you would hold my waist when walking or crossing the street. I'm sure you've never really given this a moment's worth of thought, but it makes me feel protected. Like Superman to Lois Lane, I do not feel like I have to watch my back when covering a story for the Daily Planet because Clark Kent is looking out for me.
- When you have your arms around me in a tight bear hug. I literally feel like I could stay that way forever.
- When you would attempt to deliver a corny joke. The joke doesn't make me laugh. It's the way you say it that never fails to crack me up.
- You might not have realised this but I love how you, not only take care of me, but how you take care of our relationship as well. I love how you make me feel that what we have is important. I love how you give our relationship as much attention as the other things you have to deal with on a daily basis - even when you don't have to. Despite how I am unbearably missing you, I've never felt the distance because you made me feel like all those landforms and bodies of water are immaterial to our relationship.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
bayanihan
I have lost tract. Shamefully lost perspective.
I started out with such high spirits, visions floating about in my tireless, thinking brain, I had this insatiable desire to narrate a story. I suppose a few days of absence doesn't necessarily count as an epic fail but it sure does feel like it to me. Besides, who would want to read the trivial-daily-goings-on of some twenty-something, complex person who uses too much words and writes too much of the mundane right? It isn't a question of the amount of people lurking about in this blog but about the desire to write. I was never one for an audience - all I ever set out to do was to satisfy this passion for writing. I had forgotten. Waking up, the sweltering morning air unusually suffocating, unable to drift back to sleep, I am reminded of why I am in love with writing. Today, I shall set out to do something that will not benefit me, but will shed light into the collective experience of my country and my people at a time like this.
I suppose it would not be a far off assumption to say that we had underestimated it. We have always thought ourselves used to the idea of having to endure the plight of the typhoons especially since we are the most vulnerable to experiencing it as opposed to those who live in other parts of the globe. We waved our hands in response to what we thought of as inconsequential, shrugged our shoulders, and went on with our dailies. The first few, seemingly harmless weather reports quickly turned into gruesome updates on the number of dead bodies found and numerous others who were (and still are) missing. Cars were strewn across every nook and cranny of the metropolis, homes were submerged in flood water - nothing was spared. It was something straight out of an apocalyptic movie.
How easy it is to lose everything in a turn of a second.
Living in the far south did not exempt us from having to experience a few hours worth of stormy weather. It left our house with just a leaking roof and a few days worth of having to trudge in puddles of mud. It did not, however, leave our city without anything to mourn. Last I heard, a family living in one of our city's slums lost a child to a raging river flood. Families in the country's metropolis suffered a fate that would make any director of a drama film hide in his shallow portrayal of emotions. The word Grief somehow does not seem to cover the feelings of those who have lost everything they have, those who have lost their mothers, fathers, siblings, friends. The word does not even seem appropriate for those whose humble means of living were washed away. Grief just doesn't sum it up. It does not give anything justice.
Now that we are about to endure Pepeng's wrath, let us remember the things that Ondoy taught us. That a house is something that can be washed away but the lives of your loved ones that make it a home are irreplaceable. That things are just that - things. That we should learn to be a little less materialistic and a little more humanistic. That the word help is a verb and not a word meant to simply decorate one's sentence to make it feel like it has a purpose. That the Filipino people has shown how generous we can be to others - to our countrymen - despite having very little ourselves. That not having much doesn't mean that we ought to give less. That we can share more than what our pockets can afford.
On that note, you can visit Bianca Gonzales' blog or visit ABS-CBN News Online to know more about how and what you can do to help the typhoon victims. More than money, the country needs all the help we can get - we need volunteers and people who are willing to donate their services (financial or otherwise) to help rebuild what we have lost. If you live overseas or live in the country but are too far away to volunteer your services (like me), please help spread the word. Prayers are needed and are more than appreciated as well. One super typhoon down, one more to go.
This is what writing is all about. Viva Filipinos!
I started out with such high spirits, visions floating about in my tireless, thinking brain, I had this insatiable desire to narrate a story. I suppose a few days of absence doesn't necessarily count as an epic fail but it sure does feel like it to me. Besides, who would want to read the trivial-daily-goings-on of some twenty-something, complex person who uses too much words and writes too much of the mundane right? It isn't a question of the amount of people lurking about in this blog but about the desire to write. I was never one for an audience - all I ever set out to do was to satisfy this passion for writing. I had forgotten. Waking up, the sweltering morning air unusually suffocating, unable to drift back to sleep, I am reminded of why I am in love with writing. Today, I shall set out to do something that will not benefit me, but will shed light into the collective experience of my country and my people at a time like this.
I suppose it would not be a far off assumption to say that we had underestimated it. We have always thought ourselves used to the idea of having to endure the plight of the typhoons especially since we are the most vulnerable to experiencing it as opposed to those who live in other parts of the globe. We waved our hands in response to what we thought of as inconsequential, shrugged our shoulders, and went on with our dailies. The first few, seemingly harmless weather reports quickly turned into gruesome updates on the number of dead bodies found and numerous others who were (and still are) missing. Cars were strewn across every nook and cranny of the metropolis, homes were submerged in flood water - nothing was spared. It was something straight out of an apocalyptic movie.
How easy it is to lose everything in a turn of a second.
Living in the far south did not exempt us from having to experience a few hours worth of stormy weather. It left our house with just a leaking roof and a few days worth of having to trudge in puddles of mud. It did not, however, leave our city without anything to mourn. Last I heard, a family living in one of our city's slums lost a child to a raging river flood. Families in the country's metropolis suffered a fate that would make any director of a drama film hide in his shallow portrayal of emotions. The word Grief somehow does not seem to cover the feelings of those who have lost everything they have, those who have lost their mothers, fathers, siblings, friends. The word does not even seem appropriate for those whose humble means of living were washed away. Grief just doesn't sum it up. It does not give anything justice.
Now that we are about to endure Pepeng's wrath, let us remember the things that Ondoy taught us. That a house is something that can be washed away but the lives of your loved ones that make it a home are irreplaceable. That things are just that - things. That we should learn to be a little less materialistic and a little more humanistic. That the word help is a verb and not a word meant to simply decorate one's sentence to make it feel like it has a purpose. That the Filipino people has shown how generous we can be to others - to our countrymen - despite having very little ourselves. That not having much doesn't mean that we ought to give less. That we can share more than what our pockets can afford.
On that note, you can visit Bianca Gonzales' blog or visit ABS-CBN News Online to know more about how and what you can do to help the typhoon victims. More than money, the country needs all the help we can get - we need volunteers and people who are willing to donate their services (financial or otherwise) to help rebuild what we have lost. If you live overseas or live in the country but are too far away to volunteer your services (like me), please help spread the word. Prayers are needed and are more than appreciated as well. One super typhoon down, one more to go.
This is what writing is all about. Viva Filipinos!
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