"It's been years since we first met, and nothing seems to have changed. Looking at her, saying nothing, and slowly pulling her against me. I've always loved the way she lean her face against mine, the way she touches my face, the way she kisses me; the way her face feels on mine, the smell of her hair, the way her eyes glisten when I look into them...everything about her is beautiful.
Time seemed to come to a standstill everytime I feel her heart beating on mine - slow yet strong, forceful yet gentle, warm yet comforting. She's truly the only woman I would ever ask for, I tell myself everytime.
Seeing that I have drifted away, she held me closer to her, massaging the back of my neck, kissing me, I felt so light. I embraced her, leaning my face on hers, almost in tears, I am ever so thankful that I met her, that she had chosen me. We hugged, so possessively in fear of losing that romantic moment. I wish that feeling would never end.
Despite what everyone has been saying, to me, it isn't about that moment of estasy, it is about that feeling of togetherness. Until today, even as I speak, I don't know what to call that feeling, but I know I love the way it feels...and that's all I want. Her."
-The Sweetest Dream I ever had. [GgL]
Wednesday, July 21, 2004
Thursday, July 15, 2004
The curse
Certainly not a creative day to start writing, but after reading some of my friend's works, I just feel like it, even my brain is practically empty - and this is what i am going to write about.
Frankly, I am really sick and tired of a lot of things. And perhaps this is my own doing, my thinking too much. Everyday I wake up, fatigued, drained and a general lack of energy. But instead of complaining this much, I'll try to recollect some of the things that has improved.
By a sheer stroke of luck, my tuition fees are no longer an issue - still I'm heading to the rural Utah State for my education in time to come. The one who's been causing me much anguish has finally disappeared for a while. What worries me more is the ability to handle myself - the lack of ability to discipline myself, essentially.
Yet, discipline doesn't seem apt enough, because I can still keep up with a lot of things...it's the emotions and the mind drain that is hindering my progress. They are also my strongest demons since the recent years, which I have yet to conquer. Though my progress had been but modest, the curse of cupid would time and again thwart my efforts to pick myself up. So far, romance had never been a blessing to me, it had pained me, paralyzed me, robbed me much of my zeal, my spirit, and will.
Just as I was getting better, my grades should much improvement, someone walked into my life. Expectedly, I lost the battle hands down. Subsequently, I tried venting some of my frustration on the recent soccer matches. Luckily, I am still able to control my spendings, and rational enough to win some pocket money.
When she finally left, of all things, I was to dig up some of my past and talk about...to explain things to my ex...things that I had never told her, things that I thought she deserved to know. Nevertheless, I became rather depressed. No longer am I clear about what she means to me now, perhaps, ambivalence is the word here.
I pray that may the Lord have mercy on me.
Frankly, I am really sick and tired of a lot of things. And perhaps this is my own doing, my thinking too much. Everyday I wake up, fatigued, drained and a general lack of energy. But instead of complaining this much, I'll try to recollect some of the things that has improved.
By a sheer stroke of luck, my tuition fees are no longer an issue - still I'm heading to the rural Utah State for my education in time to come. The one who's been causing me much anguish has finally disappeared for a while. What worries me more is the ability to handle myself - the lack of ability to discipline myself, essentially.
Yet, discipline doesn't seem apt enough, because I can still keep up with a lot of things...it's the emotions and the mind drain that is hindering my progress. They are also my strongest demons since the recent years, which I have yet to conquer. Though my progress had been but modest, the curse of cupid would time and again thwart my efforts to pick myself up. So far, romance had never been a blessing to me, it had pained me, paralyzed me, robbed me much of my zeal, my spirit, and will.
Just as I was getting better, my grades should much improvement, someone walked into my life. Expectedly, I lost the battle hands down. Subsequently, I tried venting some of my frustration on the recent soccer matches. Luckily, I am still able to control my spendings, and rational enough to win some pocket money.
When she finally left, of all things, I was to dig up some of my past and talk about...to explain things to my ex...things that I had never told her, things that I thought she deserved to know. Nevertheless, I became rather depressed. No longer am I clear about what she means to me now, perhaps, ambivalence is the word here.
I pray that may the Lord have mercy on me.
Thursday, July 08, 2004
This world is filled with hate
I've been practically reading the same old things over and over again repeated in different people in their lives. Though different, people always have a lot of things to hate about..the irony is that people are always trying to be happy. How can one be happy and be hateful at the same time?
The paradoxical nature of things would probably tell me that being happy and hateful go hand-in-hand. But this certainly do not imply that happiness and hate can co-exist, but it is through hate then one can learn to be happy. One must learn to first understand the nature of hatred, and then letting it go, so that happiness may find us. At the very least, this "law" applies for me for I was a very hateful person - my old friends can testify this.
I just made a very long, but by no means long-winded, reply to an old friend of mine who bore a lot hatred for her parents for causing the misery that she has presently. She attributes her suffering due to irresponsible, materialistic parents and not see the misery that she unwittingly caused unto herself.
My sister had accidentally smashed a glass of milk onto the floor and refuses to clean it up because she said it was because of that the glass was not properly washed and thus oily, causing the slip. My mum would hear non of it, and insist that she has to responsible for her own actions, and said that the slip was due to her butterfingers and not the oily glass. While my dad maintains that a person has to be responsible for her own actions, so my sister went to her room to cry because no one believed her, and she refused to accept that it was her own fault for the slip. Not caring about the commotion, my brother and I continued what we were doing.
After a good TV program, my mum went to get a drink, and accidentally stepped on the shattered glass my sis had caused. Naturally, my mum flared and raved at my sis for causing her feet to bleed from the glass bit all over the kitchen. Stubborn as she was, my sis went out to watch Spiderman with her friends, leaving the mess behind. Being in a bad mood, my mum went to dress her wounds and remained watching TV, insisting that sis should do the cleaning. My dad, not caring what happened, went back to sleep, while my brother and I can't be bothered with what happened.
This scenario could continue, but I am trying to say here is very simple. While it might be obvious that it was my sister who caused all the anguish, someone has to clean it up, even though the one responsible refused to pick up the pieces. If no one's gonna pick things up, we only have ourselves to blame when we finally step on them.
In life, far too often, other people come into our lives and "smash things up". And wherever we go, we carry these glass bits. Now and then, we may step on those bits again, and attribute and blame the pain caused the peoples responsible. Like I said, in our lives, we only have ourselves to blame when we step on these bits, and we have to clean it up no matter what. Supposedly, my sister does return home but refuse to clean up the pieces, and that I step on those bits because I didn't offer to clean things up, who should I blame? Blaming is a waste of time - it doesn't matter who was the one responsible for the mess in the end. If we dont pick up the bits of glass in our lives, we'll find ourselves avoiding doing many things, avoiding many places, avoid talking about certain issues, we'll be likened to be growing on thin soil amongst thorn bushes. If we grow this way, we may either not grow at all, or cannot grow well.
I hope my friend understands what I am trying to say.
The paradoxical nature of things would probably tell me that being happy and hateful go hand-in-hand. But this certainly do not imply that happiness and hate can co-exist, but it is through hate then one can learn to be happy. One must learn to first understand the nature of hatred, and then letting it go, so that happiness may find us. At the very least, this "law" applies for me for I was a very hateful person - my old friends can testify this.
I just made a very long, but by no means long-winded, reply to an old friend of mine who bore a lot hatred for her parents for causing the misery that she has presently. She attributes her suffering due to irresponsible, materialistic parents and not see the misery that she unwittingly caused unto herself.
My sister had accidentally smashed a glass of milk onto the floor and refuses to clean it up because she said it was because of that the glass was not properly washed and thus oily, causing the slip. My mum would hear non of it, and insist that she has to responsible for her own actions, and said that the slip was due to her butterfingers and not the oily glass. While my dad maintains that a person has to be responsible for her own actions, so my sister went to her room to cry because no one believed her, and she refused to accept that it was her own fault for the slip. Not caring about the commotion, my brother and I continued what we were doing.
After a good TV program, my mum went to get a drink, and accidentally stepped on the shattered glass my sis had caused. Naturally, my mum flared and raved at my sis for causing her feet to bleed from the glass bit all over the kitchen. Stubborn as she was, my sis went out to watch Spiderman with her friends, leaving the mess behind. Being in a bad mood, my mum went to dress her wounds and remained watching TV, insisting that sis should do the cleaning. My dad, not caring what happened, went back to sleep, while my brother and I can't be bothered with what happened.
This scenario could continue, but I am trying to say here is very simple. While it might be obvious that it was my sister who caused all the anguish, someone has to clean it up, even though the one responsible refused to pick up the pieces. If no one's gonna pick things up, we only have ourselves to blame when we finally step on them.
In life, far too often, other people come into our lives and "smash things up". And wherever we go, we carry these glass bits. Now and then, we may step on those bits again, and attribute and blame the pain caused the peoples responsible. Like I said, in our lives, we only have ourselves to blame when we step on these bits, and we have to clean it up no matter what. Supposedly, my sister does return home but refuse to clean up the pieces, and that I step on those bits because I didn't offer to clean things up, who should I blame? Blaming is a waste of time - it doesn't matter who was the one responsible for the mess in the end. If we dont pick up the bits of glass in our lives, we'll find ourselves avoiding doing many things, avoiding many places, avoid talking about certain issues, we'll be likened to be growing on thin soil amongst thorn bushes. If we grow this way, we may either not grow at all, or cannot grow well.
I hope my friend understands what I am trying to say.
8th Jul
Quite a bit happened since the last time I wrote...like, I paid a visit to the Lady at the nativity church lying around my neighborhood. Because the recent weeks have been really painful, I needed that kind of peace, looking around, seeing the peaceful eyes of the statue, the serenity there. Because I was too confused, too distraught to think anything straight, organized thought was almost impossible. This period of "mental paralysis" has been a little too much for me to bear. At times, I have the urge to get myself a few shots of alcohol to numb this feeling of loss, but dismissed them since they wouldn't help at all. Besides, long ago I told myself to try manage all these as best as I can without the drugs. Visiting the doc is definitely going to cost.
Some days after, I visited my confessor. It was a nice meeting and the last time we met was months ago. Thinking back, perhaps I shouldn't have engaged him in an argument between logic, mysticism, realism, and the empirics. Though that sure helped my brain to exercise what I had learned, to quick-think, having such a conversation perhaps did spoil the mood a little. And after the conversation, everything did end well and fine. Leaving his office, I saw one of my old acquaintances in church whom I have been some of the closest to at the birth of my spirituality. A long time sure has passed.
Yesterday, over a telephone conversation, I was hoping my friend would cheer me up or something, or just a coffee somewhere, none of those happened. Instead, I was lectured and given instructions on how to be happy and stuffs like that. Naturally, the only emotion that took over was irriation. Amid all that was said, he mentioned something that was valid, and in fact, all the points raised were, only less relevent. Once again, I know the problem with myself is that I lack hope. Once I used to be a hopeful teenager, who aimed for a rewarding career, a nice home, a good wife, beautiful kids. Now, I don't think about all these things anymore, and I guess that is my problem. To establish a goal in life took a brand new meaning - even the act of deciding on a goal becomes tougher. Because being tolder than I was meant that I had more things in mind to consider - the finances, my aspirations, my talents, etc - and to reach my goal now surely looks tougher than it had previously seem to me. All I hope for now, is to start picking myself up and move on as quickly possible. But this may imply, that to pick myself up, is to look around me, find support, and get up...and this is where the problem lies, I can't see what that is around me. Nevertheless, it better be fast.
An acquaintance of someone whom I had used to date told that the reason we had failed to connect, was that my date saw me as a talkative person. I was a little taken aback, but hardly surprised. People who know me know I am anything but that, often I would rather sit back and listen to what others have to share or lament about than to talk. My first date with her, and the only one we had, I found her a little quiet. Afriad that she might feel too awkward, I remembered ravaging through my brains to find some of the better things to talk about, the usual, like her favorite hangouts, and what about those places or pastimes that she liked about... After recollecting what happened at the date, I was a little annoyed. People often complained about me being too quiet, and when I finally do, I was said to talk too much. Worse, I can get interrupted so many times I would swear to God that I will not open my mouth and let a single word pass until I feel like it again. But afterall, I still decide being the silent one, and would rather be complained as aloof than a chatterbox.
Edgy mood as one can see from what I've written. Hope I may have a good sleep later.
Some days after, I visited my confessor. It was a nice meeting and the last time we met was months ago. Thinking back, perhaps I shouldn't have engaged him in an argument between logic, mysticism, realism, and the empirics. Though that sure helped my brain to exercise what I had learned, to quick-think, having such a conversation perhaps did spoil the mood a little. And after the conversation, everything did end well and fine. Leaving his office, I saw one of my old acquaintances in church whom I have been some of the closest to at the birth of my spirituality. A long time sure has passed.
Yesterday, over a telephone conversation, I was hoping my friend would cheer me up or something, or just a coffee somewhere, none of those happened. Instead, I was lectured and given instructions on how to be happy and stuffs like that. Naturally, the only emotion that took over was irriation. Amid all that was said, he mentioned something that was valid, and in fact, all the points raised were, only less relevent. Once again, I know the problem with myself is that I lack hope. Once I used to be a hopeful teenager, who aimed for a rewarding career, a nice home, a good wife, beautiful kids. Now, I don't think about all these things anymore, and I guess that is my problem. To establish a goal in life took a brand new meaning - even the act of deciding on a goal becomes tougher. Because being tolder than I was meant that I had more things in mind to consider - the finances, my aspirations, my talents, etc - and to reach my goal now surely looks tougher than it had previously seem to me. All I hope for now, is to start picking myself up and move on as quickly possible. But this may imply, that to pick myself up, is to look around me, find support, and get up...and this is where the problem lies, I can't see what that is around me. Nevertheless, it better be fast.
An acquaintance of someone whom I had used to date told that the reason we had failed to connect, was that my date saw me as a talkative person. I was a little taken aback, but hardly surprised. People who know me know I am anything but that, often I would rather sit back and listen to what others have to share or lament about than to talk. My first date with her, and the only one we had, I found her a little quiet. Afriad that she might feel too awkward, I remembered ravaging through my brains to find some of the better things to talk about, the usual, like her favorite hangouts, and what about those places or pastimes that she liked about... After recollecting what happened at the date, I was a little annoyed. People often complained about me being too quiet, and when I finally do, I was said to talk too much. Worse, I can get interrupted so many times I would swear to God that I will not open my mouth and let a single word pass until I feel like it again. But afterall, I still decide being the silent one, and would rather be complained as aloof than a chatterbox.
Edgy mood as one can see from what I've written. Hope I may have a good sleep later.
Thursday, July 01, 2004
1st Jul
I just received a reply to the email I had been talking about, and I'm glad that she didn't feel that we were actually having an argument over emails - she mentioned that it felt more like an exchange of views, exactly what I intended. Argument is not always a bad thing, depending on how it is handled.
However not everyone I know is like her, many find me someone with an extreme lack of manners, fond of arguing for the sake of winning, that I distort facts, distasteful etc. So as for today, I exercised a lot of caution, and in the end, I didn't not say a single word at supper earlier, effectively. Not that I am afriad I could've offended, I'm usually poor at words and expressing myself. Besides, as far as sensitive topics are concerned, I thought it might be a better idea to remain silent.
The things discussed involved a lot of "self-reflection", exploration, deep analysis in regards to one's life. Since life is full of paradoxes, and is always so complex and hard to understand...there's no straight answer as to how someone should've reacted in a given circumstance. When life turns upside down, everyone would naturally feel upset and depressed for a while. When such depression persist for a long time, it is of own's responsibility to find ways to "realign", which is by no means an easy task. Thus, throughout the entire conversation, I said nothing.
Shit happens, always. Everyday, every morning I get up, while walking along the streets, before going to bed, while fumbling trying to sleep, I think about my shortcomings, what I ought have done but didnt, my weaknesses, what I should do, what I need to do... Always, I look for the subtle signs that might tell that I'm heading towards an "oasis" or a "pit". Even though most of times, by the time I saw that, I was already in that state. Nonetheless, I have to try get out before I get too comfortable remaining in that...not moving, not progressing, is a bad thing, I always tell myself. So far, during "oases" or "pits", there hasn't been anyone who have been helping me, perhaps God.
As a friend, it is nevertheless upsetting to know that there is nothing I can do to help my friend in anyway possible. I hope God can help.
However not everyone I know is like her, many find me someone with an extreme lack of manners, fond of arguing for the sake of winning, that I distort facts, distasteful etc. So as for today, I exercised a lot of caution, and in the end, I didn't not say a single word at supper earlier, effectively. Not that I am afriad I could've offended, I'm usually poor at words and expressing myself. Besides, as far as sensitive topics are concerned, I thought it might be a better idea to remain silent.
The things discussed involved a lot of "self-reflection", exploration, deep analysis in regards to one's life. Since life is full of paradoxes, and is always so complex and hard to understand...there's no straight answer as to how someone should've reacted in a given circumstance. When life turns upside down, everyone would naturally feel upset and depressed for a while. When such depression persist for a long time, it is of own's responsibility to find ways to "realign", which is by no means an easy task. Thus, throughout the entire conversation, I said nothing.
Shit happens, always. Everyday, every morning I get up, while walking along the streets, before going to bed, while fumbling trying to sleep, I think about my shortcomings, what I ought have done but didnt, my weaknesses, what I should do, what I need to do... Always, I look for the subtle signs that might tell that I'm heading towards an "oasis" or a "pit". Even though most of times, by the time I saw that, I was already in that state. Nonetheless, I have to try get out before I get too comfortable remaining in that...not moving, not progressing, is a bad thing, I always tell myself. So far, during "oases" or "pits", there hasn't been anyone who have been helping me, perhaps God.
As a friend, it is nevertheless upsetting to know that there is nothing I can do to help my friend in anyway possible. I hope God can help.
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