A day in the life

The branches of the trees intertwine, the rays of sunlight project its splendour, the roads are magnificent, the soul of the city sings a new song. I walk past through the people talking. I hear the news about him and her, I hear the children's early morning cries, and I hear the kitchens from homes getting busy. It is another day. 

People start rising from their momentary slumber. All start again. The music of the beginning rouses a new set of fears, inquiries, and expectations. I hear the rustle of the pages begin to unfold. 

The day has its own hue. 

Waking up to another day feels like a tug of  war about existing. If I am bound to discover all these, which sentiment should tap my passion? 

Then, there's the music of joy and sadness in a dance. 

Step here, 

move there, 

lift your arm forward, 

and bend your back. 

All these to exist. 

My tears find their way through, as a recognition to the alluring complexities of the humanity and the nature that emphasizes it. 

I glance back to the road, under the setting sun, with stars starting to peer through. How glorious are the changes of skies! There is a new hum to the world. A gentle longing for rest, the clicking of shutting eyes, 

the day beginning to fold into a pause. 

Yes, I hear you, the sound of desperation. 

How can value be added to what remains?

The moon and the stars- they share their space for their magic, they are going to bring a new ode to what has been. "Oh, people, these are the notes from everything that came and went under the sun."

There is another beauty that belongs only to humanity, and in the every corner of its being, a spark blooms into hope. 

Then, we can all be rest assured, rested. 

Day 47

temporary, new

all things are gray and blue

walls are the sky's limit

minds endlessly anticipate

the whens and hows are fickle

the whos and whys are ungentle

all under the lack of sun

sort, track them down

thoughts that before us frown

oh, where's reality

here, with time, it will flee

truth shall set light one day

these hands will break free

all over the hope for sun

one day, someday

our faces before each other

it will yet be, this future

Stuck Home, Journey Back home

WARNING: LONG POST. 

Shortcut: Just read the paragraphs in bold at the bottom of the post, if you're needing any inspiration. (But if you're up for some journal stuff, then, you have the whole one)

Doors shut, smiles covered, skins distant. In one snap, the whole world changed. Just like that. 

I have watched the decline of everything, with hopes that it would lack permanency, that all these are but for a moment. Just a minute, just a couple of weeks, just a couple of months, just for some time. In the beginning of the community quarantine, I was in awe of the effect of the virus, invisible as it may seem, it felt to me like a giant octopus with all its tentacles simultaneously shutting down everything we know, leaving a few doors thriving. 

Personally, it drove me into an internal gray. Prior to this, I was starting a business, trying to balance my regular routine with new activities, helping organize a summer missions project, and meeting up with friends. Everything seemed promising, until the announcements were made. We had to make decisions. For me, the decision-making process was the difficult part. It wasn't like there was much to decide on, everything was declared by the government, we just have to conform our schedules to it and align our hearts to the change that is about. 

I tried to respond positively but there was retaliation within. Staying home is not a problem with me, it was just it was difficult for me to do if it wasn't me who really decided and planned to not go out. But I knew I had to honor that. I wasn't fearful for myself mostly, I was afraid I'd communicate sickness and hurt people if I do anything reckless. 

For the first few days, it was hard, until my body and mind learned the new routine. "Okay. I am staying home. I am favored to have shelter and food. I am privileged to have avenues for entertainment." So, my internals were starting to concede to the new system. For the next couple of weeks after that, I became okay. Totally. I decided to go on a social media detox which was extremely helpful for my mental health and I avoided communicating to friends online, not because I didn't wanna talk to them, but because the concept of instant messaging was draining me. 

Along the way, my body clock reversed. I spent the early hours of the new day watching anime and dozing off with thoughts of my past. The wee hours of the morning became sanctuary for my unintentional self-therapy sessions. It can be annoying to confront things I put aside, but then they keep coming back, compelling me to give them more attention, maybe, so that I could totally be over with them. 

Then, there's being 24/7 with my family, which I have not done in a long, long while. I mean, yes, I spend time with them, but not to this extent. There are times when we could really rub against each other over the little things. Adjustments were to be made. Responsibilities needed to be taken. 

Oh, and there's the looming uncertainty. The constant question has been, "Until when?". Who knows? Everyone in the medical and research field has been doing their best and we are left to put our faith on our frontliners who have been serving beyond their capacity. Is there still room to anticipate? 

I started putting my heart against waiting. What would be its use? I guess that the thoughts that run in my heart when I wait become all selfish. "When will I get to eat out again?" "I would love to buy a few stuff (unrelated to basic needs) right now." "Man, I'd really love to go for a wild adventure, a hike or two this month." And so on. All this time, my waiting is for myself. 

Then, I start to read the news and the recent researches. The virus is bound to stay longer, etc. People are having their "new normal resolutions". Lifestyles are threatened to remain drastically changing, we would have to own up new schedules. So, can I share a hug with a close friend? Can I use utensils in public places? I am not the most conscientious person in the room and the thought of being extra careful spells struggle to me. How can I do it? I fear that if I fail to be extra careful, I'd carry this virus to others. 

Wanting to meet personal goals and productivity at this time starts to kill me as well. I feel like I need to be able to tell myself that I was able to seize my quarantined days well, that I was able to accomplish goals and that I became a better version of myself after! Because who is not trying? 

But right now, with all these thoughts triggered again, after the announcement of another extension of community quarantine, I choose to let them go. 

Earlier, before writing, I prayed and started listing down priorities for myself. Whatever these simple priorities might be, they were to help shape my schedule and life for the following weeks. But if I wouldn't be able to follow them, it should be definitely be alright, because why not? 

To be responsible and to extend my hand when necessary could be enough. I admit that there's a weakness to my mental health that I have to address and that, at this time, I am not limitless. But regardless, I can still find worth in who I am.

This time of staying home has been bringing up things that are ugly and that are taking a toll on my sense of peacefulness, but I train myself to converse with these issues. I could definitely quiet them. This time, I could shred off all the things and fears that don't matter. I could honor my heart's core by looking within and focusing on what matters most. 

What I am discovering now is who I am in time of chaos. There are memories that wave at me, calling my attention. The time we are granted can be a gift to journey back home, back within ourselves, to reevaluate our priorities, to criticize our pride, to enlighten our confusions.

Each one of us may have our own patterns right now, but I know that all of us find struggles at this time. It will definitely not get any easier, but I learned to assess what the situation teaches me. Knowing this doesn't necessarily help me find the cure, but it helps me to manage all these disorganized piles of uncertainties and plans. 

It is gonna be alright. Things will brighten up again. Faith will begin to make more sense now. Let's be there when the clouds reveal the sunshine again. 

092319

What's been going on:

= /still/ adjusting in a new job and setup, 

trying to outgrow the things used to

learning a different language of love

= routine's been the most structured one for the last decade

/still/ finding way around

discoveries, humbling discoveries

= never thought of what might be /until these days/

paths have never been an issue /until these days/

options, choices, decisions

= recovering from wounds and pains

reconciling realities about self and the lies that deformed it

searching for the lost innocence on world and humanity

The Woman That You Are

You will never be the woman you envy. 

As you read that line, her face comes to mind. Her expressive eyes, her lips when they curve into a smile. You remember the vigor she has or that gentleness in her when she walks. You remember her bright ideas. You remember her quietness. You remember her enthusiasm at life. You remember the way she is hopeful and light, or that reserved spirit that makes her a mystery. Why does she have to be this feminine? Why does she have to walk on the career path you want for yourself? All these features you remember with ache, all images quiet insults against your confidence. 

She could be anyone to you— the top student from gradeschool, that woman on a famous TV series, your best friend, your love’s past flame, or the woman he loves. She may be someone you know closely or someone who is unaware of you. 

But she’s always there. 

When you shop and look at yourself in the mirror, “do I get to look a little more like her?” or when you run downstairs in a hurry, making sure you project a completely different person, a person who could be more than her or could be from a completely different pole... she’s there. You do your best to take her out of your system, you try your best to find her in you.

But within you is you.

As you remember her, the soul within you hopes for the day you would recognize you. Oh, that you’d see that you have a sweet way in you, that you gasp when you see something you find lovely, or that you’d know that that gentle smile in your eyes is enough of an expression. The woman in you waits for you to express your unique artistry, or that you’d know that your dark eyes which are too deep or too small beholds a million stories. You like dancing but your feet won’t coordinate with the beat of the music, but still, you are your own fun person. Do you recall your best childhood memories running around hiding behind trees under the moonlight? 

You may try to be her, the woman you envy. But within you is an irreplaceable being only you can embody. And you are enough. That soul doesn’t limit you from admiring and crowning other women with words that they deserve, no, you don’t. Your soul even hopes that you could be inspired by her, but your soul hopes that as you recognize all these other women’s feats, you’d recognize yours as well. I hope you see that your cage locks you away from your own light. I hope you see that the woman in you is worth fighting for, worth believing, worth living up to. 

You are your own season. You are your own form. You are your own story. And you, you are enough to be free, to be celebrated, to be loved. 

Just as when you were created, He already knew your inward parts, knew your substance even when you were yet unformed (Psalm 139). You have been created with wisdom. You have been created with love. That makes you enough. 

So, no, you will not be her, but someone better for the life you own. You have always been designed to be you. 

052219

Lately,
= still trying to find reasons for what had been and seeing almost the same shadows cast 
= the darkness is still, but the time is almost dawn, it could be a cause of fear, but the time is ripening
= words and gestures marred the heart-- frustrating dreams that are still unbirthed to, but the resort will always be another step forward, and then, another one
= beauty is relative, but... yes, beauty is relative
= Loneliness is friendly and its subtle smiles keep on bothering me, I would have wanted out, but the conversations with it are quite engaging
= cut ties and deep wounds are drying up
= the skies still close its light and later on, break out as it should

Some Words Long Overdue

It's a Sunday. Early in the day today,  I found myself translating other people's reflections to my own, and I remembered much about writing and expressing, later on finding myself moving along my keys writing these words. I thought of getting my morning chores done before proceeding to talking about what's been going on with me, but I thought better of it. Lately, it's been quite rare to find the words and I realized that I should succumb to their calling whenever they want to be squeezed out.

It has been too much contemplation and reflection on life's ongoings and the lack of it. I have been residing in a sanctuary, waiting to be refueled to get back to life and proper living. 2018 has been my greatest landslide yet, containing some of the biggest decisions in my life, a sickness that did its best to drain me of all my beauty (except that hope was kind of too stubborn it left some remnants in here), and realizations on humans and relations that kind of changed the way my life goes.

To be honest, I'm quite panicky writing this after what feels like endless yesterdays of darkness and dullness, that I'm not even sure if I'm familiar with the dynamics pre-existent on this realm, but here we go.

These are the inscriptions some of the shards of my heart have.

I have been losing my appetite for books. I have been trying to recollect myself to focus on one thing and yet, while my eyes do their best to keep rooted on the pages, my brain wills itself to wander around. It has been a torment to my being to change courses in life on a matter as deep as this, but I'm still not giving up on this one. Not as long as I can identify words and be identified with them.

Anxiety and depression are the daily battles I win over! Drastic is not enough of a word to describe the turns of events that occurred within and around my being ever since A&D chose to surface. There were moments when I felt alienated to my own skin and when I found myself treading upon roads of thorns and thistles... and yet, I am still here, trying not to make this thing the main thing about me.

I am dreaming... again. Finding myself rerouting or seeing new perspectives and it has been quite refreshing-- an oasis to my season. I am so thankful that the sun chooses to shine even when storms and winds come and go as casually as a neighbor bringing some tidings. There are so many things yet to happen and though there had been testimonies of people who gave in to their fears and that these surface my own fears, I try to block that noise out and focus on the beauty within.

Self-discovery is my current game. It gets surprising how effortless this has been, the way I'd go to my heart and perceive how it runs and processes information over, how it just chooses to let go or repress a feeling so strong yet so strange, or the way I look at myself when I let words go in rage or by impulse. I may have profiled too many people in the past and yet, the most confusing soul to comprehend is that one within my skin.

God has loved me with an everlasting love. It's not even a question of whether I'd survive apart from this knowledge. I am completely amazed at how I have been saved from those moments when giving up was a plan and when puzzles chose to be incomplete.


How do I find reasons to still be and to still do? It's impossible to even answer this at all. I would have wanted to be intelligent about it, but I remember those days I spent rolling on the bed, wishing that I'd be home to my heavenly dwelling, and thinking that the only success criterion of my days would be when I could take a bath and change my clothes... when my thoughts lacked reason and my heart lost chances. But this is one thing I'd say, I found my feet still walking even after it has raced on miles of wounds. I am alive and each day requires me to just report and go through the day in whatever form I could present myself with, may it be with my unkempt form or my calculated appearance. And each day that goes by, I find myself in a metamorphic process of becoming, in that, the way I drained of hope yesterday isn't the way I look at things today. There are reasons to thrive and be. Each pain that scratches me off my past reveals to me a new purpose at existence, and for now, I let these little reasons be big enough for me.

Voices

I've learned to modify and discern voices

If you listen closely,

You would know there's a lot to them

There are those which try to be calm

And those which have been trained to calm

Listen to those which rage with emotions

And those who take pride in its sanguine joviality

Have you been attracted

To those who flatter and intimidate with its confidence?

And those who arouse with its mysteriousness?

But there are those who show

Nothing beyond what's visible to the naked eye

Let through that which pierces

Oh, wouldn't you want 

A voice of kindness which says, "I understand"?

There are those which say too much

And those who could have said more

Voices of exhaustion and of innocence

Sometimes, well, more often than not, meet aboard

Why I Don't Like Coffee and Other Things Related

Sipping from my Roasted Rice Tea, I think of how I've never been a fan of coffee and how, for unknown reasons, my soul has found consolation from almost all types of tea (except mint, oh no, not mint). I've been here for almost an hour now, here in this coffee shop near my place. I think of how fun it would have been to have that daily routine of grabbing coffee in the neighborhood's dear coffee shop in the wee hours of the morning. Yeah, something Lorelai and Rory are likely to do. And again, I am reminded of how I just don't like coffee, but it also sends me this crazy feeling in my tummy whenever I take any form of it (jelly, candy, drink, etc). But it's not like I've never craved for it all my life.

Growing up, we have been trained to think that coffee is just for adults because it dulls the delicate brain of a kid, my mom would say. I remember now how I used to envy my cousins whose breakfast won't go without a cup of instant coffee, sometimes, having it as the sole element in their meal. Come to think of it, I now remember some cousins who would have real rice turned into coffee, by adding hot water to the toasted part of the rice or what we call tutong. And that'd be the most they'd have for breakfast. I used to envy them because they drink something I was denied of. Coffee never made it to the cut of our usual breakfast composed of rice, meat/fish and hot milk. Never coffee for the kids in our household.

About a decade later, when I was taking my degree, I tried to be more open with the food and drinks I take. During exams seasons, different types of coffee would be out there. It's the usual, the savior. The companion to the sleepless nights of reviewing and doing requirements. When I was in my first few semesters, I tried imitating what my schoolmates, or should I say "university colleagues", would do. I  did drink coffee a few times and it just didn't seem to work for me: I would still sleep when I want to. But there was this time when I indulged to a recommendation by a colleague, which involved getting really caffeinated. It was when I was gonna review for a Chemistry exam (a subject I barely got into good terms with, that, I'm pretty sure until now, I only passed out of my professor's grace and kindness seeing I've taken removal exams for too many times already), which I was gonna have the next day itself. I wasn't the type who would review early on, and since I don't enjoy Chemistry, I don't get down to studying it until the last few hours prior the exam. Well, here was the recommendation: 2 bottles of 8-ounce Coke each and a cup of instant Original Nescafe. The thing is, I have to drink them all at once and it would keep me up for the rest of the night. For those who know how the brain works, imagine how that kind of mix would shoot up the neurons. And did I drink it? I did. And did I stay up until it was very late? Well, surely, I did. But did I have a great time studying and keeping alert throughout all that time I was up? Well, here's what happened. Half an hour or so after taking the booster, my mind was already getting frozen. I was slowly getting inattentive and I started hating how my brain became hazy. I just wasn't able to focus on my exercises so I had to stop reviewing and headed on to sleep. Which I wasn't able to do as well. All I did was stare out into spaces and stuff around me. I felt like a robot as I lied still in my bed until the night has birthed into day, The next day, my eyes were dry and I knew I was gonna flunk my exam. I dreaded that so much. It's not that I wasn't able to review and that I was gonna fail, which I think, would happen in any other way. But it's that I wasn't able to get my sleep. So, that's the end of coffee and me. It's been 6 years since.

Ever since that long and tragic night, I've learned to order non-coffee drinks in coffee shops. My tongue has become very sensitive of the taste of it, that I know the subtle pierce it has when I accidentally take anything that has coffee in it (except for my tiramisu). I've always resorted to getting myself chocolate drinks, but since I've been gaining some weight on, I had to shift my orders into something less fatty as chocolate frappes. Which, somewhere along that period, led me to my very much loved drink: tea. There's just something so subtle yet confronting about this drink that I couldn't give name to.

Oh well, I gotta sip the rest of my tea and head back home. It's been a Friday. It's been a week. And a gloomy one for that. Just a few more minutes and would take this thinking back home.

080518

Morning dismissed
Catering to unknown
Yet existent
Frozen chest
Accommodating secrets
Nobody understands
Caught the suffering
Of being the "other"
Trying to believe
When all seem to falter
Ahead and forward
Usual movement
Unsure and uncertain
Common state
Wondering despite
Hoping against
Questions on sunrise
Still unattended