Breathtaking, captivating.
Thanks to Sabino

Breathtaking, captivating.

Thanks to Sabino

163 notes

Avatar versus Pocahontas? You decide.

Avatar versus Pocahontas? You decide.

226 notes




Have you ever asked yourself,

“Why am I here?”
“Why am I alone?”



when you could have made yourself better. You are befitting to the world, and the world is starving for your talent.
But no.
You chose to grip your heart and leave yourself behind. You are stuck: in a vortex of bewilderment, in a question you hope to answer, but could not find.

Then, what now?
What should be done?



When everything seems to be a pit close to death, when failure seems inevitable, when dying seems a logical choice, what now?

What then could be the escape, or is there any escape at all?


We find ourselves as philosophers, thinking of the world, abstracting what is essential, plucking out what is ideal.
But we slap ourselves with the reality, and slap ourselves again and again and again until we bleed with the sane truth. That there is this insane feeling that we could not untangle because it is just too sane for it to be cut loose.
And still, the question lingers.

“What now?”


Loneliness then becomes a startling shadow that could not evaporate, because it seems we could not let it go. It is a pain we wish to emancipate, but it is beauty we yearn to hold.
And amidst all the terrifying clusters that bemoans us, we still stand by to the paradox, we continue to hurt, and we wonder, over and over again: who, then, is the paradox?
A question begins to surface:

Is it the universe?
Is it me?
Is there to blame?
Or is there no answer at all?



What could be done, even if the peculiarity becomes too daunting is simply to accept the fate of our lives, and live by its code? No matter how impossible it seems, no matter following it means paralysis.
And then, a lingering thought begins to emerge:

Can we do it?
Can we handle it?
Can we follow what we ought not follow?



And the question elongates to infinity, and the answer reduces itself into a limit. The mathematical becomes impractical, the sane becomes insane, the logical becomes absurd, the pit goes deeper.
As we narrow our lives, as we live by a path we chose but do not like, we treaded but could never walk on it and then, the question returns,




“Why am I here?”




And you realized, that you are alone.

Have you ever asked yourself,

“Why am I here?”

“Why am I alone?”

when you could have made yourself better. You are befitting to the world, and the world is starving for your talent.

But no.

You chose to grip your heart and leave yourself behind. You are stuck: in a vortex of bewilderment, in a question you hope to answer, but could not find.

Then, what now?

What should be done?

When everything seems to be a pit close to death, when failure seems inevitable, when dying seems a logical choice, what now?

What then could be the escape, or is there any escape at all?

We find ourselves as philosophers, thinking of the world, abstracting what is essential, plucking out what is ideal.

But we slap ourselves with the reality, and slap ourselves again and again and again until we bleed with the sane truth. That there is this insane feeling that we could not untangle because it is just too sane for it to be cut loose.

And still, the question lingers.

“What now?”

Loneliness then becomes a startling shadow that could not evaporate, because it seems we could not let it go. It is a pain we wish to emancipate, but it is beauty we yearn to hold.

And amidst all the terrifying clusters that bemoans us, we still stand by to the paradox, we continue to hurt, and we wonder, over and over again: who, then, is the paradox?

A question begins to surface:

Is it the universe?

Is it me?

Is there to blame?

Or is there no answer at all?

What could be done, even if the peculiarity becomes too daunting is simply to accept the fate of our lives, and live by its code? No matter how impossible it seems, no matter following it means paralysis.

And then, a lingering thought begins to emerge:

Can we do it?

Can we handle it?

Can we follow what we ought not follow?

And the question elongates to infinity, and the answer reduces itself into a limit. The mathematical becomes impractical, the sane becomes insane, the logical becomes absurd, the pit goes deeper.

As we narrow our lives, as we live by a path we chose but do not like, we treaded but could never walk on it and then, the question returns,

“Why am I here?”

And you realized, that you are alone.

1 note

All I Needed was a Hug
28 September 2008
Pinhid ng pintuan, mistulang dingding,Walang sinuman ang maaring tanggapin.Anong pumipigil? Anong nagbabawal?Sa sariling mundo’y ba’t di ka lumaya?
I had enough. Something inside imploded and I was caught off guard. It was difficult for me to point out where. Much worse, it was difficult for me to find where I was. I was completely lost; I felt a part of me consumed by the feelings I have carried for many months. I felt the world was cornering me at my little space: a small box slowly moving toward me, crushing me like a mace. It was too much to bear; it seemed that I surrendered to the dark feelings I wanted to rid inside me. But no, they have consumed me whole. And I prayed for a miracle to save me from the torment I was carrying.
Waking up each morning always seemed my waiting to death row. That Saturday was the same as any other day. My depression began when I was not able to rationalize my feelings. My sense of understanding things was my only shield to keep me from lurking back into the darkness. Back in high school, conflicts in the family — particularly with my father — was beginning to be unbearable to my very vulnerable heart. That time, I completely lost myself. I lost track of the people I’ve had the company of being with. Even worse, I lost my own voice. Literally, I turned quiet and placed myself in my already tight-knit world. My world is not a pretty one; it’s a world where I battle out my own fears, worries and anxieties. It is a world where there is only sadness ranting over my unsaturated disposition. It is a place where people want to escape, but cannot do.Four years later, it returned to taunt me again. It has seriously become a menacing experience, especially for a life that I have. Much of my life is a life full of secrets and unknown answers. Frankly, my life is full of questions; questions where many find it trivial, but for me, they are essentially fundamental. And much of my own past and the experiences preceding was only cleared out to me recently. I thank my grandparents for the revelation; however, I had to pay the price of trying to incorporate everything that ended up being me and where I am right now. It is not my privilege to negate my past; rather, it is my responsibility to embrace it. However, this clear understanding requires adjustment to the lenses I wear right now.
Buksan ang ‘yong mga mata kahit may luha.Mamahalin parin kita. At tutulungang lumaya…
Much of this sadness is amplified by the experiences I have undergone along my way. Many reasons, which is too extensive to enumerate, have compounded and suddenly pushed me against a wall. And I was unprepared for the things coming my way. I was a child unready to fill in the shoes of growing up. Much in the same way, my feelings overwhelmed me. And so does my confusion over who I am and should be. In addition, the complication begins to exacerbate me as the people around me seemed to have their own lives to attend to. I’ve always depended on them, and I thought in the darkest moments of my insanity, they would be there to at least give me a hug. Sadly, no one responded to my call. Of course, I must admit that my calls are only little subtle voices, however, apparent. When I’ve imploded, many would notice my drastic change in personality. While in many respects I try to hide it to keep them from pitying me, it is obvious. When people would begin to ask, I have the immediate impulse of swaying them to another conversation. In short, my state is a total contradiction: I seek help while pushing people away from noticing.The moments I find myself lost has made me see how volatile I am with my own personality. One day I become this closet goth that rants and purges things through words. Then another, I turn into this happy-sunshine kid that seems to have won something. Then again, I turn out to become this melodramatic crybaby who cries all night without letting anyone notice the tears planted in my pillow. I try to be strong; I try to let my feelings have their own say to this very complicated mess I am in. But there is a part of me that seems to have side-tracked and deny the state of things I am in. Then I begin to feel utterly lost and confused. I become paralyzed with my own work and I become a prisoner with my own emotions.
Basong may tubig lagyan mong muli.Aapaw dahil wala nang silid.Ang pusong may galit, di maaring umibig.Bulag sa wasto, alipin ng isip.
The day when I failed to rationalize things was the worst day in my whole life. I felt utterly vulnerable over the already maddening changes of my feelings. It is difficult to force out my thoughts in putting sense to the things back into the proper order. It felt so good to give up where I was at. It felt that being cornered to a wall only had one choice but to end it all. Where I was at though, I still believed in that little hole above my prison that would shed some light to my already depressing state. I still hoped it would open up for me as I try my last attempt to climb to it.And there I was studying my mathematics assignment while writing in my laptop. To my left was my best friend reading Hamlet and listening to her music. The room was silent with only the rumbles of the air-conditioning filling the already silent void. I did not talk. I felt that it was no sense of talking to my best friend. I know she had enough with my own volatile tantrums. The experiences that amounted into my own confusion literally sealed my lips. I didn’t want to talk to her. I didn’t want to add more damage to her already scarred disposition. Admittedly, I’ve given her more than enough of her capacity. However, I continue to admire her for keeping herself lucid despite the many pains she had undergone because of me. Talking about my own personal problems, I felt, was already too much for her. Still, I wanted to talk to her. I was still that kid looking for someone to comfort me over the wounds I’ve just gathered. But my heart was already too blackened, and my mind already too charred to do so. I know very well how she would think and feel about me. I knew she might be thinking I was mad at her. I knew she might find me confusing with the behavior I was showing to her. I knew she detected there was something wrong with me; I knew how her head ticks and I completely understood her decision not to talk to me. I knew, that she doesn’t want to misinterpret her feelings again and for me to misread her true intentions. At that time inside the cold room all alone with her, I felt I was in the most ridiculous position. She is my best friend, and I have failed to exert my guts just to tell her what I have been experiencing. I seem to have qualified what she meant by describing me as the inconsiderate and insensitive git. But I would completely understand her way of seeing me that way. Sadly, I’ve grown to be the git and the bastard because of these circumstances.
The room began to be eerily cold. While reading over my assignment, I started coughing. The cold and the hunger seemed to jolt a reaction on my body. I felt that my own body was beginning to betray me.
I was still coughing hard. Suddenly, she began, “Are you cold?”I stopped from where I was. Quickly, I took my sight out from my laptop, stopped punching the keys, and looked at her. I didn’t know what to say, but the usual, “No, not really.”“Well, I am,” she said, “won’t you come over here for an instant and keep me warm?” Suddenly, she hugged me. In the same way, I locked my arms over her so tightly. I needed a hug. And for the rarest occasions in my life, I cried over her shoulders. I just wanted to stay there forever, to be there with her, my best friend. I felt that months worth of anguish and pain was cleared by an hour of a hug. I felt my soul grow as I listened to her heartbeat. I was listening to a heart that has always looked after me. And for the first time, I finally heard her heart beat. I just needed her hug, a hug from a friend, from my best friend.
Buksan ang ‘yong mga mata kahit may luha.Mamahalin parin kita. At tutulungang Lumaya…
Her words comforted me and assured me that everything will be alright. However, the best moments hugging her were the awkwardly silent ones. I just heard her soul speak to me, and it was enough to make me smile once again. At last, it was all warm again.

All I Needed was a Hug

28 September 2008

Pinhid ng pintuan, mistulang dingding,
Walang sinuman ang maaring tanggapin.
Anong pumipigil? Anong nagbabawal?
Sa sariling mundo’y ba’t di ka lumaya?

I had enough. Something inside imploded and I was caught off guard. It was difficult for me to point out where. Much worse, it was difficult for me to find where I was. I was completely lost; I felt a part of me consumed by the feelings I have carried for many months. I felt the world was cornering me at my little space: a small box slowly moving toward me, crushing me like a mace. It was too much to bear; it seemed that I surrendered to the dark feelings I wanted to rid inside me. But no, they have consumed me whole. And I prayed for a miracle to save me from the torment I was carrying.


Waking up each morning always seemed my waiting to death row. That Saturday was the same as any other day. My depression began when I was not able to rationalize my feelings. My sense of understanding things was my only shield to keep me from lurking back into the darkness. Back in high school, conflicts in the family — particularly with my father — was beginning to be unbearable to my very vulnerable heart. That time, I completely lost myself. I lost track of the people I’ve had the company of being with. Even worse, I lost my own voice. Literally, I turned quiet and placed myself in my already tight-knit world. My world is not a pretty one; it’s a world where I battle out my own fears, worries and anxieties. It is a world where there is only sadness ranting over my unsaturated disposition. It is a place where people want to escape, but cannot do.

Four years later, it returned to taunt me again. It has seriously become a menacing experience, especially for a life that I have. Much of my life is a life full of secrets and unknown answers. Frankly, my life is full of questions; questions where many find it trivial, but for me, they are essentially fundamental. And much of my own past and the experiences preceding was only cleared out to me recently. I thank my grandparents for the revelation; however, I had to pay the price of trying to incorporate everything that ended up being me and where I am right now. It is not my privilege to negate my past; rather, it is my responsibility to embrace it. However, this clear understanding requires adjustment to the lenses I wear right now.

Buksan ang ‘yong mga mata kahit may luha.
Mamahalin parin kita. 
At tutulungang lumaya…

Much of this sadness is amplified by the experiences I have undergone along my way. Many reasons, which is too extensive to enumerate, have compounded and suddenly pushed me against a wall. And I was unprepared for the things coming my way. I was a child unready to fill in the shoes of growing up. Much in the same way, my feelings overwhelmed me. And so does my confusion over who I am and should be. In addition, the complication begins to exacerbate me as the people around me seemed to have their own lives to attend to. I’ve always depended on them, and I thought in the darkest moments of my insanity, they would be there to at least give me a hug. Sadly, no one responded to my call. Of course, I must admit that my calls are only little subtle voices, however, apparent. When I’ve imploded, many would notice my drastic change in personality. While in many respects I try to hide it to keep them from pitying me, it is obvious. When people would begin to ask, I have the immediate impulse of swaying them to another conversation. In short, my state is a total contradiction: I seek help while pushing people away from noticing.

The moments I find myself lost has made me see how volatile I am with my own personality. One day I become this closet goth that rants and purges things through words. Then another, I turn into this happy-sunshine kid that seems to have won something. Then again, I turn out to become this melodramatic crybaby who cries all night without letting anyone notice the tears planted in my pillow. I try to be strong; I try to let my feelings have their own say to this very complicated mess I am in. But there is a part of me that seems to have side-tracked and deny the state of things I am in. Then I begin to feel utterly lost and confused. I become paralyzed with my own work and I become a prisoner with my own emotions.

Basong may tubig lagyan mong muli.
Aapaw dahil wala nang silid.
Ang pusong may galit, di maaring umibig.
Bulag sa wasto, alipin ng isip.

The day when I failed to rationalize things was the worst day in my whole life. I felt utterly vulnerable over the already maddening changes of my feelings. It is difficult to force out my thoughts in putting sense to the things back into the proper order. It felt so good to give up where I was at. It felt that being cornered to a wall only had one choice but to end it all. Where I was at though, I still believed in that little hole above my prison that would shed some light to my already depressing state. I still hoped it would open up for me as I try my last attempt to climb to it.

And there I was studying my mathematics assignment while writing in my laptop. To my left was my best friend reading Hamlet and listening to her music. The room was silent with only the rumbles of the air-conditioning filling the already silent void. I did not talk. I felt that it was no sense of talking to my best friend. I know she had enough with my own volatile tantrums. The experiences that amounted into my own confusion literally sealed my lips. I didn’t want to talk to her. I didn’t want to add more damage to her already scarred disposition. Admittedly, I’ve given her more than enough of her capacity. However, I continue to admire her for keeping herself lucid despite the many pains she had undergone because of me. Talking about my own personal problems, I felt, was already too much for her. 

Still, I wanted to talk to her. I was still that kid looking for someone to comfort me over the wounds I’ve just gathered. But my heart was already too blackened, and my mind already too charred to do so. I know very well how she would think and feel about me. I knew she might be thinking I was mad at her. I knew she might find me confusing with the behavior I was showing to her. I knew she detected there was something wrong with me; I knew how her head ticks and I completely understood her decision not to talk to me. I knew, that she doesn’t want to misinterpret her feelings again and for me to misread her true intentions. 

At that time inside the cold room all alone with her, I felt I was in the most ridiculous position. She is my best friend, and I have failed to exert my guts just to tell her what I have been experiencing. I seem to have qualified what she meant by describing me as the inconsiderate and insensitive git. But I would completely understand her way of seeing me that way. Sadly, I’ve grown to be the git and the bastard because of these circumstances.

The room began to be eerily cold. While reading over my assignment, I started coughing. The cold and the hunger seemed to jolt a reaction on my body. I felt that my own body was beginning to betray me.

I was still coughing hard. Suddenly, she began, “Are you cold?”

I stopped from where I was. Quickly, I took my sight out from my laptop, stopped punching the keys, and looked at her. I didn’t know what to say, but the usual, “No, not really.”

“Well, I am,” she said, “won’t you come over here for an instant and keep me warm?” Suddenly, she hugged me. In the same way, I locked my arms over her so tightly. I needed a hug. And for the rarest occasions in my life, I cried over her shoulders. I just wanted to stay there forever, to be there with her, my best friend. I felt that months worth of anguish and pain was cleared by an hour of a hug. I felt my soul grow as I listened to her heartbeat. I was listening to a heart that has always looked after me. And for the first time, I finally heard her heart beat. I just needed her hug, a hug from a friend, from my best friend.

Buksan ang ‘yong mga mata kahit may luha.
Mamahalin parin kita. 
At tutulungang Lumaya…

Her words comforted me and assured me that everything will be alright. However, the best moments hugging her were the awkwardly silent ones. I just heard her soul speak to me, and it was enough to make me smile once again. At last, it was all warm again.

2 notes

We traverse into the battle of life. No one is exempt from the journey. We bring along our minds and hearts. We create experience. We gather memory.

The battle of life does not bleed of human blood. Our human emotions bleed. The vulnerability of our existence create our scars. These scars are not the ones we readily accept or anticipate. It is in these thought we bring ourselves to the journey of the heart.

The heart is a child. It readily cries. It is sensitive. But we must be proud of our hearts because they are windows of our humanity. Our hearts speak of the color of our breath each day. Our hearts see the universe beyond it’s physical realm. It sees the universe as a magical realm of rebirth.

The heart never dies. If it does, the universe has ceased to exist. Time would be in a stand-still. Space would have contracted into nothingness. Our heart is the pulse of the universe. Our heart is the particle of God. In many instances, we have seen the heart as just belonging to ourselves. But no. We may have hearts, but we do not own them.

Our lives lies upon the hearts of other people. The reason why we beat, why we pulsate, is not because of our sole existence. It exists because it is a part of the universe. We listen to it’s voice when we have given all our energies. We lament when our heart beats too fast or too slow. We die when we have been broken or tarnished. But we rejoice when we have fallen in love or climbed the highest peak in our lives.

The battle of the heart is the battle for acceptance. It is understanding why we have a heart, and why the heart exists as it is can we find meaning and understanding in our path. The battle is here; the journey, onwards.

The Reason We Live, 28 April 2009

Life

1 note

Christmas Blues

Christmas Blues

Season’s Greetings?

I woke up on Christmas morning and everyone was still asleep. The TV was burbling about people having their last-minute Christmas shopping. Then, it talked about sales of roasted pork. And I looked above, to the dirty ceiling in our house, and I stared at it blankly. Blank: that was what was in my mind . Not the Christmas spirit, but total blankness.

Christmas Eve hasn’t been the same Christmas Eve I enjoyed when I was young. We usually spent it with the whole family. The big green Christmas tree at my aunt’s living room would nestle many gifts. It was a tradition I was always excited to participate. Without doubt, it was one of my most favorite times of the year. It wasn’t about the gifts, the decorations or the feast on the table; it was our gathering as one family during the season.

But times have changed and it is a kind of change that saddens me. I don’t know, but uncertainty is one of the things I do not have a very high premium on. In fact, it is that uncertainty amidst change – good or bad – that keeps me tiptoeing, careful, and in many occasions, afraid. Don’t blame me for having this kind of mindset: I’ve been in very tough situations. And many of the situations I faced usually happened during the Christmas season.

The past two Christmases, I met significant people that changed my life. I met them with the heartfelt confidence that the things we share will be for life. But I lost them. Now, I hesitate with what kind words to say to them. It’s mainly because that I shared to them a whole lot of my life. I gave them my whole: my trust, my love, my confidence, my faith, my understanding – everything. And it turned out into nothing.

Right now, I don’t seem to have anything that would follow after that. Why? Because I just want it to simply stop and not endure anymore. I don’t want to have added words—hurtful words—to say once more. Otherwise, I would end a traitor. I don’t want to continue with life on a continuous and unending vicious spiral of depression, meaninglessness, and self-pity. I don’t even want to dwell of the possibility that these empty feelings seem ‘enjoyable.’ Oh dear, help me Lord if it would end up that way. Talk about a person who now wants to suffer for the rest of his life.

Sigh. I wasn’t like this before. I was simply goal-driven. I dreamed of finishing my PhD in Economics. I wanted to be someone at the world platform: be it an academic, a researcher, a community developer; someone that transforms and changes the world for the better. But when that feeling we call Love came along, the whole picture dramatically changed. The dense-headed me was no more. A sudden stream of wisdom of the cosmos flowed right through me. And the thoughts of the world just became my pastime, better yet, my world.

It seemed that the creative juices were drying up. I had difficulty in writing. A long and turbulent pause would come. No thought, nothing to continue. To simply put, I’m not anymore confident to continue my passion as a writer. The heavy feeling in my heart would surface and I would stop. But depression is my alibi for me to justify my inability to move on with my life. Why do I have this feeling over and over again? What unresolved issues have I not conquered? The depth of my inquiry is, with no avail, a travesty. I may simply be feeding my own insecurities with these questions. Much worse, I may simply be fooling myself with wise thoughts, only to realize that it’s only a cover-up, a dark veil that slowly takes me away.

I messed up my life in great ways. I can’t restart or reboot it like a computer. But what can I do? I simply have to bear the reality that it’s not smooth sailing up ahead. Still, I hope that I’m still sane enough to believe that there is still hope and triumph to every challenge life may provide.

My only consolation? This Christmas, I’m happy to have found someone. Not just a best friend or a sibling or a chatterbox buddy, but all of them. And I am definitely looking forward what will unfold for the two of us this New Year.

1 note

Morning Breaths

Morning Breaths

~o~

I open my eyes

A beam of light I see

From nowhere it came

Filling the room

Its power only the hair on my skin could describe

A magic that beats relentlessly

Dabs of rain sticking on the window this sunny day

It is an awakening

Today will be magical

And tomorrow, a miracle

I breathe out through my lungs

Yesterday’s clammy air

A final journey through my body it has completed

With a mighty push I release

The invisible spirit

~o~

Answered

Co-wrote it with differentlylogical

The Bunny:

The Bunny

~o~
The night time draws to an endWith all the memories of you flashing back
I remember the day our eyes locked,
I suddenly felt the lifeblood of your love.

Thought you were to change,
The history of my broken heart
But just like a burning candle,
Started so bright yet ended in the cold dark.

Tired of wishful thinking,
Intoxicated with the death of our love,
I could’ve been the best lover that I can be,
Yet you had me believing for nothing.

You said I was more important than special,
Your lines had gotten my knees weak,
But as I see you walk past the line,
Those very lines only made my soul falter.

Past lessons were never enough,
For me to learn not to do the same mistakes,
But when it was your turn to break my heart,
It made me reach the knob, and closed the doors down.

*sigh*
… no more sad endings for me, ‘coz I wouldn’t care starting another story anyway… anymore.

The Bear:

The Bear

~o~
The moonlit night began to appearAnd memories revealed from the darkness 
Of the moments I locked into your eyes, 
The lifeblood of your love rushed through me.

I feared you were to simply continue
The failing histories of my broken heart
But just like a candle from the darkness,
You warmed the cold enveloping me.

Tired of ephemeral joys,
Mourning still for the death of butterflies lost,
I believed I was only born for nothing
Yet you made me see I am worth loving.

I thought my soul would falter again
But every time you whisper from your heart,
You made me more important and special,
Your lines would make my knees weak.

Past lessons were never enough
For me to learn not to do the mistakes I had
But when you reached the knob and opened the door
I knew that time you had mended my heart.

No more sad endings for me,
I would not care less of making anymore stories,
Sad stories, to say the least,
Because I am now making happy stories anyway.
~o~

Love will never separate a man from his Personal Legend.

Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

The Alchemist

Slippers

Running in the Rain

~o~

It rained

When darkness squeezed my heart

The tears of the sky fell

I felt the coolness of the rain

And I tasted the salt of my tears

~o~

Around me was the noise of the cold

As the sky wept

Only silence listened to the sound of my crying

While standing

My shoes were wet

~o~

I took them off and stood barefoot

My soles pressed the bloated ground

My feet were lonely

I was alone

Barefoot and crying

~o~

As my eyes met the tears of the sky

I felt warm around my shoulder

It was you

Barefoot in the rain

Holding your pair of slippers

~o~

I took them with hesitation

My toes embraced the rubber

I felt warm

My heart grew

My soul grew

~o~

My feet are not alone anymore

I am not alone anymore

I am wearing your slippers

~o~