(TODAY IS) NOT ONE OF THOSE DAYS

There are days when nothing's going right --- when everything I do is a mess, and no matter how hard I keep up, things will find its own way to be wrong. As if it's alive. At least for that day.

But today, it's not one of those days.

There are days when I'm self-absorbed. --- when I'm firm that no one else's needs will ever be more important than mine. Days when I think my dreams are bigger than anybody else's.

But today, it's not one of those days.

There are days when I want to give up --- when I realize my own targets were unrealistically set and despair eats me up. I spend the rest of that day in my lonely little corner where neither music nor sunlight can make me feel better.

But today, it's not one of those days.

Because I chose this day to not be any of those days.

I chose to believe that there's always a Sunday at the end of the week.

I chose to accept that I am one with the world and I am not an island.

I chose to go on, to cut hopelessness and appreciate the little things I have.

I chose to trust. To love. To laugh. To live.

And there's not a simpler (or better) indicator to go on living than the fact that I was blessed to have woken up to another morning of this life. 

Every single day. Until it all ends. #

photo credit: giant in the playground

INSPIRASYON. NAKS.

*At dahil may isang mabuting kaibigang nag-request ng Tagalog, subukan natin 'to. :)

Sabi nila, 'pag bigla ka na lang nakakagawa ng mga di pangkaraniwang at magagandang mga bagay,  ikaw raw ay 'inspired.' Yung tipong may pinaghuhugutan kang kakaibang emosyon para makapagtulak sa 'yo na maging mas produktibo at makalikha ng mga bagay na hindi mo naman ginagawa araw-araw. Yung tipong puro bulaklak at rainbow at butterfly yung notebook mo, puro "Good Morning!!!" na mararaming smiley yung FB status mo, nakakapagsulat ka ng mga poetic na kung anu-ano, at mas maamo at maaliwalas daw ang dating mo. Posibleng near-death experience kahapon ang nakatagpo mo sa EDSA kaya ka ganyan. Pero pwede rin namang nag-uugat yun sa isang bagong lugar na nakabihag sa mga mata mo, isang pambihirang pangyayaring naranasan mo, o di kaya naman sa isa o mga taong nagpaparamdam nun ngayon sa 'yo.

Nung bata-bata pa ako (oo, ako na ang matanda), sa dalawang bagay lang ako nakakahanap ng springboard para makapagsulat: una, pag bad trip ako sa isang sistema, at pangalawa, pag masayang-masaya naman ako sa isang bagong karanasan. Medyo dark at ma-angst lang ang dating pag sa una ako humuhugot, pero ayos pa rin dahil mula sa negatibong inspirasyon na yun, napapag-isip mo ang iba para hamunin ang nakasanayan. 'Pag sa pangalawa naman ako humugot, nahihirapan akong ibahagi at isalarawan sa iba yung natural high na naramdaman ko mula sa adventure (o misadventure) na yun kasi pakiramdam ko kahit anong paliwanag ko, understated lang ang kalalabasan ng pinagsasasabi ko. Pero ayos pa rin, dahil may mga tao pa rin namang mahahagingan ng kaunting leksyon na napulot mo kahit papaano. 

Pero ito ngayon ang tanong: 'Pag tapos ko nang maramdaman yung mga matitinding emosyon na 'yun, may paghuhugutan pa ba ako ng inspirasyon? 'Pano 'pag gumising ako isang araw at nag-iba na lahat ng kinamamanghaan ko, nabigo ako sa mga pinapangarap ko, at iniwan na 'ko ng mga taong pinagkukunan ko ng lakas ko? Sa makatuwid, pag nailabas ko na yung inis o high ko, tapos na lang ba lahat ng yun? Masyadong short-term. Dulu-dulo, hindi ka na makatuloy.

Matapos ang mahigit na tatlong buwang hindi ako nakapagsulat dahil wala akong mapaghugutan ng isusulat kahit anong piga ko, natagpuan ko ang kagustuhang muling ibahagi ang munti kong mga saloobin sa inyo. Pero iba ang araw na ito --- dahil hindi isang bagong inspirasyon ang tumulak sa 'kin para gawin ulit 'to, kundi ang mismong kawalan nito. Bomalabs, diba? Pero yun ang punto ko.

Wala namang masamang maging 'inspired' ka sa mga bagong bagay, tao, o pangyayari sa buhay mo; kung tutuusin isa nga itong magandang bagay na dapat lang namang ibinabahagi sa maganda ring paraan. Pero saan nga ba dapat naka-ankla ang inspirasyon mo? Sa isang tao? Sa inis? Tuwa? O sa isang bagay na higit na makatutulak sa 'yong mas maging produktibo, isang bagay na hindi lamang pansamantala?

Naisip ko lang naman. Wala kasi akong mapaghugutan eh. Gusto ko lang talaga mandamay. #

ONE SUNDAY

One Sunday. It felt worst than any other day.
Saturday was fine. Sickening, but fine.
But that Sunday just wasn't like any.
Perhaps I ought to let you know why.

I woke up to the sound of big tears from the sky.
Them, racing to leaves 'til they gently touched the ground.
I, struggling with what should first be done.
No rush, Monday's not until tomorrow.

I stared at my collection of melancholy stories.
Enveloped in paperbacks, they called me home.
I heard then, but never did listen.
I shed my share of the sad, sad sound.

Summer. It has been four months.
Fall. I never believed it was true.
Winter. You're cold and delicate as snowflake.
Rain. Your steadiness kills.

Walk slowly past them all,
Them who I thought I knew.
Don't look at them, for I'll see you.
It's the last thing today I would want to do.

There never was a choice, never a chance ---
And I'm sorry I waited for Sunday.
Because sometimes, what feels good is all wrong,
but what kills you inside is what's right.

Monday. Thought I didn't care.
Wednesday. I was caught unaware.
Saturday. Sick, but I'd be fine.
Sunday. I just knew it was goodbye. #

photo credit: shoulderdiary

FROM THE BACKYARD, A PRESENT FROM GOD

Beautiful things are discovered in its right time.

Just this morning, I put to my to-do list making a serious research on the art of preservation of dried leaves and flowers. The front and backyard has an abundant share of fallen leaves every now and then so might as well make good use of them. For the past years, I tried a couple of times to do it the natural way, pressing summer flowers and autumn leaves on the last part of the yellow pages and opening it only after a while. They dry up, but didn’t look like how I wanted them to. That’s why when my sister brought up this topic this morning, I was pretty eager to learn the art seriously this time. But little did I know a pleasant surprise was waiting.

The historic monsoon this week was indeed disastrous; and even though the house wasn’t flooded, I knew a cleaning job at the backyard was up for me again. So there I was, sweeping the soggy fallen leaves with a walis ting-ting, when I chanced upon this weird dried leaf from the jackfruit tree. Unlike most fallen leaves, this guy was most unique. It was pure veins, with only about 2% of its brown skin hanging on it. But still, the veins were perfectly held together, no punctures, no perforations, like a  wing of a transparent butterfly. Holy smokes, I said to myself. I immediately got the small basin from the sink, poured in some tap water, and helped the rest of the skin get off the veins. I knew I was being forceful but the veins were miraculously strong. 

Needless to say I wasn’t in pretty much a good state this week. Because I have slight seasonal affective disorder, I had to suffer some bad episodes brought about by the lack of sunlight again. It was so bad I nearly snapped yesterday, if not for a few understanding people around me who let me just walk alone the parking lots of buildings E to J to help me gain some sanity. I was thinking so many thoughts, worrying about my future plans and where I was standing in my own timeline once more. Looking down silently at the strong current from the makeshift pond at the middle of the hub, I prayed and told God I wanted answers. And finding this beautifully preserved dried leaf was not only an answer--- it was a message inserted in a tiny present.

A lot of us, or should I say most of us live our lives like it were purely ours, that when plans go awry, we go awry and crumble like landslides as well. The past year wasn’t exactly as good for me, but it wasn’t so bad either--- and that’s what I failed to see. I was heavily focused on an unsuccessful scholarship application, an ambiguous career ahead, and some other personal challenges that I did not notice that I had over a thousand other blessings. I don’t even want to start naming one because it will never end.

This leaf is God’s reminder, of His promise to me and perhaps to you as well. This leaf, amid the strong winds and heavy rainfall, stood the test and came out really beautiful after an uncertain period, its veins strongly held together like it was some masterpiece, probably even more amazing than any other leaf-art method I could research on. It was beauty made in time. This is God’s art. And if He was able to do it with an innocent leaf, what more to you and me? #

A capture of the leaf after a violent wash. :)

STRAIGHT TALK: HOW DO I GET TO THE MIDDLE?

I'm not really good with goodbyes. If I say mine, I'll definitely think of our little times together once I look at you, and just start to cry. Maybe things even you could not remember. And when you're the one leaving me for good, it's either I'll end up giving you most that I can, or I'll just silently watch you take that plane ride, on the side, without a single word. I don't know which hurts more, but how do I get to the middle? I'd like to know.

I'm not good with hellos either. It's either I ask too much questions the first time we meet, or I'll just give you a shy hand wave and just wait till you greet me first along the hallway. I don't know if you can recall how it was with you but either ways, we will always end up being quite okay, because my hellos are preparations for my goodbyes, which I fail to perfect. So how do I get to the middle? Please tell me how.

And yes, I'm also not good with keeping my distance. It's either I'll make you feel like we've known each other for quite some time to make you loosen things up with me a notch, or I'll just pretend that I did not see you, so as not to oblige me to greet or talk to you for that day. Does that sound stupid? I tend to get moody at times; but all those good days, trust that I'm being honest and genuine. Because I want to make up for our missed 'hello,' or what might be a painful goodbye from either you or me.

Now how do I get to the middle? How do I say hello and go about every day without thinking of our goodbye? This is straight talk. I would really, really like to know. #

photo credit: shutterstock

DRAG QUEEN

He's not who you think he is. Or she? Or he.
Entertainment, yes, the root of all reasons.
Goes up the stage, walks around town strutting
good ol' signature dress and severe make up.

Make up. 'Twas all but a little make up,
at first, but eventually turned into something hefty,
something even he did not notice and cannot identify,
if you could find a shoddier term for 'identity crisis'.

Not a matter of chance, I suppose,
because chances do not really make up good stories.
Not something acute or sudden, too,
because humans are creatures of habit, over time.

Over time, an enclave strumming of mental nerves.
It prompted him to choose to, or not to listen to the voice
that mumbles a very, very low undertone
twice, every 4 in the afternoon, when he is but alone.

So there goes the drag. King. Queen. Whatever.
Like a KitKat bar, confused if it's choco or wafer.
Who is to say, anyway, but he himself?
Catch-22: He's a liar, so much so he could lie to himself.

He drags himself. Half-figurative, half-literal.
He goes up the stage, judged by the way he looks and acts.
Give him a carrot and it does no good.
It actually does him worse. He thinks a lot, and now asks me

What is he? Everything becomes awry, but he forgets,
That there's only one reality to ponder, so I told him:
"Beautiful as it may seem, ye have to accept
the fact that it forever will be just part of your memory.

Of a distant past, or an unreachable future,
I would never, never get to know either."
Because in my fickle mind, he is not my own fiction,
but a reality. "I am you," I said, "and you are me." #

photo credit: deviantart

HOW TO SAY SORRY IN 400 WORDS

So maybe you've just grown tired, of my apologies, of me telling you I'll always do better next time. But you pretty know there are things that just could not fit right in your hands, right? Like lines that you force to go straight when they never could. They were born curves, I told you. But still, you believed in the possibility. Which in turn made me believe, too. And that's the exact point why I can't get over hating myself for disappointing you.


I can't say that freaking word because I know you might not believe me anymore. That word, that five-letter word you say when you unintentionally step on someone else's new white shoes, or accidentally break someone else's young, fragile heart for the first time. As much as I'd like to deny, I could feel something has changed between us, with the things that are usually just there and the you who was just usually yourself. But I'm giving this thought a benefit of the doubt by assuming two things: one, I'm just paranoid, and two, you're just busy. Busy enough to push me aside for the moment.


Oh yes, I'm big enough, to know what's right from wrong, and to know why and how things could have probably been right or wrong. "Probably." Because they are measured. You love numbers. I hate them. I hate measurements. I hate standards. I'm a scofflaw. And maybe that's why this line you envisioned could never really go straight. I am not them. If you could please stop thinking like everybody does.


I begged you to just quit, but still you go. And you remind me of that guy Eddie Vedder's singing about in "Off He Goes". I could offend you a thousand times over, you get tired, but you still believe. That's why I can't quit, too. Not just yet. Yes, maybe things have changed. But don't worry, I can go on like this. A simple "hello" will do, or perhaps a one-question one-answer type of numbered conversation. Enough to show people nothing happened. It hurts, but I know I caused this state in the first place. And it's actually better this way. I told you not to expect anything from me. I will just do it. But still, if the lines won't go straight, at least I once had this beautiful memory.


It's raining. I gotta go. #

ISA NGA PONG 2-PC CHICKEN AT DOUBLE CHEESEBURGER

Kapag binubuksan ko na ang baunan ko 'pag tanghalian, madalas kong makuha yung tanong na, "kumakain ka ba ng karne?" Bakit nga ba naman hindi ako matatanong, e kung hindi pechay o tokwa o puso ng saging ang laman ng baunan ko, ay isdang pinakuluan na may dahun-dahon pero mukha pa rin namang walang lasa. "Health conscious?" Di rin. "Muslim?" Lalong hindi. Eto na sasabihin ko na nga kasi.

Minsan siguro iniisip natin na 'pag kumakain tayo ng corned beef kunwari, yung baka na yun ay lumaki sa isang cute little red barn na puno ng dayami, tapos ginagatasan sila dun kung kailan sila nasa mood. Kasama nila ang mga manok sa isang parte ng farmhouse, kung saan tahimik nilang nililimliman ang mga itlog na gagawin nating sunny side-up at leche flan. But no. Sa dami ng Bon Chon at KFC at McDonald's sa Pilipinas at sa mundo, tingin mo ba ganun pa rin ka-relaks ang pagpapadami ng baka, manok, at kahit na anong hayop na pinagkukuhaan ng karne ngayon? Para mas masaya, panuorin mo 'to: Meet Your Meat.

Sa madaling salita, masyado nang mataas ang demand ng food supply dahil sa dami ng tao sa mundo. Kung hindi sila mamadaliing palakihin at patayin nang ganito, malamang kalahati na sa mundo ang nagutom.

Pero malamang marami naman sa inyo madidiri lang ngayon tapos bukas kakain na ulit ng litson. Ang sarap e, diba? Pero bukod sa usaping pangkalusugan at tamang pagtrato ng mga nilalang na may buhay, may isa pang matinding dahilan.

Siguro hindi mo namamalayan na sa bawat pagkain mo ng karne, isa ka sa mga taong nakikiisa sa paglaganap ng kahirapan hindi lang sa Pilipinas kundi sa buong mundo. Ano daw? Labo naman nun. OK. Babalikan natin ang mataas na demand para sa food supply. Meron tayong dalawang uri ng food supply: yung deretsong napupunta sa hapag, at yun namang ginagamit sa industriya. At dahil nga mataas ang demand ng industriya o yung para sa produksyon ng karne (kasama na mga fast food chains), ang food supply na dapat napupunta deretso sa hapag ng tao ay pinapakain sa mga hayop. At yung lupang dapat pinagtataniman ng gulay, nilalaan pa sa mas malaking produksyon ng karne. Kaya imbes na yung cassava na kinain sana ng isang pamilya ng magsasaka, pinakakain sa baka. In short,

1.) Busog yung baka. Yung parehong bakang gagawing cheeseburger maya-maya.

2.) Gutom yung magsasaka. O masyado nang mahal yung presyo ng cassava na nabili niya.

3.) Ikaw busog ka. Kasi may pambili ka ng cheesburger at quarter pounder.

Marami, napakarami pang dahilan para unti-unti na nating pwedeng itigil o bawasan ang pagkonsumo ng hayop sa hapag-kainan --- global warming, epekto sa kalusugan, atbp. Pero yan na siguro ang dalawa sa pinakasimpleng dahilan. Wala namang pumipilit sa 'yo, pero sa susunod na pipila ka sa McDo, isipin mo. Isipin mo lang naman. #

Para sa karagdagang detalye, maaaring bumisita sa: peta2.com 

NUNG MINSAN AKONG NAUPO

'Pag ba napagdesisyunan mo munang umupo at magpahinga, nag-aaksaya ka na agad ng oras?
Minsan kasi 'di ba parang napapagod ka rin? Yung gusto mo lang tumigil muna. Pwede rin namang may nag-udyok sa 'yo. Pero 'wag na natin palalimin. Basta minsan napapagod ka lang.

Basta? Hindi rin. Hindi naman basta tinatanggap ang dahilang 'basta.' Lahat daw ng nararamdaman, may tamang pinanggagalingan. Ang sa 'kin naman, bakit mo kailangang malaman? Kahit gusto mo, hindi ko ipapaliwanag. Hindi lahat ng bagay pinapaliwanag. Kaya kung ako sa 'yo, intindihin mo na  lang ako.

Intindihin? Hindi naman kasi lahat ng bagay nauunawaan eh. May mga bagay na mahalaga sa 'yo pero hindi naman sa 'kin. At may mga bagay na mahalaga sa 'kin na hindi naman sa 'yo. Ganun talaga ang mundo. Natural lang sigurong maghulaan ang mga tao.

Nahulaan mo na ba ang nararamdaman ko? 'Wag na. Pinapagod mo lang ang sarili mo. Siguro diyan ka na lang, tapos hayaan mo na lang din ako dito. Tatawagin na lang kita 'pag kakailanganin ko na talaga ng tulong mo. O sabihin na nating hindi ko lang talaga sigurado kung matutulungan mo 'ko.

Teka, iniisip ko kung anong tulong ba ang kailangan ko. Nasabi ko naman na eh. Kung hindi mo nakuha 'yun hindi ko na kawalan. May mga bagay na kailangan inuulit-ulit pero may mga bagay na kailangan mong tignan sa sarili mong mga mata para magkaro'n ng katuturan.

Ang hirap maghanap ng katuturan 'no? Minsan gawa ka nang gawa tapos mapapaatras ka bigla kasi wala naman pala siyang katuturan. Matitigilan ka tuloy. Bakit? Dahil kahit walang nagsabi, alam mong nasa katuturan ng mga ginagawa mo ang mismong katuturan mo bilang tao. Andun nga kaya?

Nung umupo ako, ikaw naman ang pinagod ko. Pasensya na ah. Ganun talaga. 'Pag ayokong mag-isip, uudyukin kong ikaw naman ang mag-isip. Siguro hindi kita mapipilit, o kung posible man, medyo matatagalan. Ano, kuha ba? Halika, hanap pa tayo ng mapapaupo. #


photo credit: ayladeeyosah

THE FIRE TREE

It must have slipped my mind
On the last edge of summer.
Pure awe for a vision foreseen
But now clutches from behind.

Your leaves are your flowers,
Trifling flames that race up
The little soggy green stalks
That hold your desires.

When did you turn crimson?
It must have been when,
Because no one could disprove,
Not a being was rational.

Who gave your guise of scarlet?
I muster it was them who,
As no logic can abjure,
Were consumed by the orthodox.

Make haste, fine fire tree!
Your diaphanous fragments of ruby
Race down in a soundless dance
Halfway a cold, windy June.

Though now burgundy, they still glow.
Wet greens will feed themselves,
Rubber wheels that tread on dry grays
Will perhaps be most perturbed.

It was a mess, yet for me it was beauty.
And I dare not impart a word ---
I will let your self stay beneath yourself
Until the next edge of summer pulls over. #

photo credit: LDLanham