Valentine's eve, if there'd be such a day, it would be that. Since the day before Christmas is called Christmas eve, and the day before new year is called new year's eve, then the day before valentine's should be called valentine's eve. It is not an exemption to this rule. As the panoramic view unfolds before me, the day when love is in the limelight, i am seeing myself falling more and more in love. As Leo Buscaglia says, we do not fall out of love, there is only falling in love. Love that man, and i purposely said love as it is still active even right this very moment, and i am pretty confident that it will still be as it is when my semi-black hair mutates into silver strands. We lack love nowadays, and anyone who disputes that is stuck in his/her own little world of unicorns and fairies!


The million dollar question is "how do we love?" Not just love superficially, but love in every way love means. You see, love, if taking out of its incarceration of being just a measly word, would encompass every human being there is in our world today. That 4 letter word can touch every person, dead or otherwise. And the wonderful thing about it is when it permeates into our very existence, it doesn't lose anything. The love you gave to someone will still be the same love you will be giving to another. It is an indefragable and an incontrovertible feeling. How do we love? Must we look at what is visible to our naked eye? Must we touch what is tangible to our integumentary system? You see, and i hope you do see, what is essential is invisible to the eye. Irony, right? The world, diverse as it may seem, is cleaved by love. What is common in every corpus in this world is our mutual feeling towards living. We love to live! We want others also to love to live. As Leo Buscaglia said, love is life! And it is. For what would be of life without love? Imagine, what would be of it? I see it as a dead leaf crumbling effortlessly by the breeze. It's just isn't life at all.


How do we love? There's no curriculum vitae to guide us on how to love! We just do. It is a primordial human feeling, at times a human failing. I say it is because we talk so much of it and yet we don't give much of it. I am no exemption! Then you think i am being a hypocrite of preaching something i do not even practice. But of course. Aren't we all are? But as long as i am aware of what i am lacking and what i am capable of giving, i can have the conviction of adding to it or giving it. For want of a good rebuttal of me being a hypocrite, i am trying to practice the things i usually believe in.


How do we love? I should say, we should love spontaneously! If you give it a critical thought, then how would that qualify as love? How do i love you? Should i give you flowers this valentine's day? Or should i treat you to a romantic, candle-lit dinner for two? Should you? You could. It's your prerogative to do so since you are the one who knows what and how you can show to your loved one your love for him/her. The best things in life, and since i have tantamounted life to love, i can safely say that the best things in love is what's going behind the scenes. Behind the curtains before the theatrical show even begins, behind the close doors liberated by the judging eyes of society, it is the nuances of love, of life. The spontaenous happenings, and in spontaneous i mean the things that happens naturally, things that are unplanned. Like the wind, that just decides to blow wherever it wants, and you see, that is what's beautiful about the wind. It touches everyone without having to map out its path. We should be, as a way of showing our love, like the wind.


How do we love? You ask a hundred people that question and you would get a hundred unique, though connected answers. Each of us has our own way of showing our love. We could be tit for tat critical to the one's we love, blatantly criticize their mistakes, and if for us we are showing love, then we are. No one dictates to us, well anyone can, but we should not let it get into us, how we should love the people we love. They do not even know better than us. They're busy with their lives thinking of how they could show their love. We love people in our own little, unique ways. There are as much ways of showing our love than there are people around the world. Let no one tell you that you should do this, do that, don't do this, and don't do that. You are you and they are them. Trust yourself, that is what's lacking nowadays.


How do we love? Since it is valentine's day, people are busy preparing things to make their partners feel loved. And i laud them. I support them in every undertakings they do. I admire them, to that precise extent! But if i may castigate, why just now? Well at least we have that one day where we can romantically and ostentaciously display our love without having to feel ashamed of it. But aren't we doing it out of necessity? Not to sound to blatant and all. Just because it is that time of the year, just because everybody is doing it and i should be also or i would be ostracized, just because i am pressured to do so. We should show our love to our better half just because..And it ends there. Free from reasons, free from pressures. Being reminded of valentine's day makes me think of how much little time we allot to proudly showing to our loved ones how much, or how we love them. 365 days in a year, and just 1 day. 1 day?! It's just evident and vindicative of how much we as living beings of the modern times, think so less of love. Are we really doomed of being lonely? Each and everyone of us living a
life of solitude.


Speaking of the modern times, one of the most abused sentence (and this is not backed up by empirical statistics; i personally do not put my life on the line on statistics) is "I love you." It's a sentence, isn't it? It has a subject, a verb and an object for the verb. During my highschool days, it is something you say when you mean it. And even if you mean it, you still have to attend to a lot of contradicting feelings when you want to say it. But today, it's no longer even necessary to explain.But i think that that is a good thing. The youth taught that early to what love is. How it hurts, how its suppose to feel, how its suppose to be shown, and so on. But more often than not, it is taught the wrong way! Then again. There is no wrong way for love. What i mean is, love as a prerequisite for life, has been a taught as a prerequisite for sex. Mind you, sex is essential but not a necessity. We're living in a scary world nowadays. Give it another 5years and i for one will no longer be able to recognize what love is about as taught.


How do we love then? We just do. No what if's, no why's, no what's, and no wh-question's. We simply do. Love is simple! No need to complicate what is simple in the first place, it will do no one good. The moment you feel your heart jumping out with joy, and you start to doubt if you are in love. Don't! You are in love. Do not be afraid of the pain it might, and it will bring! As Nietzsche said, "What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger!". Pain is penultimately a branch of love.One will never know what love means, what love is, and why love is, when we don't get hurt. Do not be afraid, for if you arethen you are destined to be afraid of love. Love, love, love! Why is something so wonderful so despised?


How do we love? Just do. ^^,

A very decalescent day. The sweltering sun shun its proud UV producing rays upon those who unknowingly goes on with their lives. Started this day right and got directly on what i should be finishing and should have been finished weeks ago. But better late than never as they say. After getting over a very stressful and time demanding month of January, i am noticing that i am gradually reverting back to the old ways of irrational delaying of unimportant to important tasks. I need to reorganize myself, set priorities right and rigidly, and swear to every deities there are that i will be religiously sticking to my plans. I'm sure that after all these adversities and sleep-deprived months is a time of reveling and joyous leaps of gratitude. Procrastination is no longer considered as a temporary comfort pillow to an almost stiff neck. Got to get up and do what it is that must be done, no excuses!


Aside from meeting a quasi-gay (not in a discriminating tone) kid in school, altogether this day was again bourgeois! And let me babble about that kid me and my groupmates met a while ago. He was about 9 or 10 years old, and studying in a school that was new to my palate, St. Benedict. What was conspicuous about this kid is that he is talkative to the point of irritating where you want to shove pieces of paper in his mouth to prevent him from talking. What was amazing though is that he talks so much like an adult, which for me by the way is what is causing dilemma to our society. In my subjective analysis of the situation we were in, that kid was deprived of his childhood. Taught and forced to think, talk, and act like an adult. Not degrading the intellects of kids nowadays but disregarding the fact that they are getting smarter, they are also getting older,quickly. Coming from one who never enjoyed his childhood, i know too well the consequences of being compelled to be adult-like notwithstanding your age.


Perfectionism as a tool to gauge the capabilities of children nowadays is not only verging on absurdity, but also on invalidity.Why would one ever expect children to be perfect, fait accompli their age? Better yet, how would one ever expect something even we grown-ups haven't and will never attain from a child who has not yet even understand what being perfect is? Why make adults out of children? The earlier we put the cookies in the oven and leaving them for years, the more they get burnt, get charred and will never be palatable to the tastebuds. And another issue i would like to rantingly bring about to the table of catered and yet seemingly ordinary food is the prevalence of kids nowadays using English as the mode of conversation. In and of itself, i should say, is not wrong. But if i may cry out loud, as loud as i can until the echo of that cry of mine reverberates to the spines of these amnesia-struck parents inducing tremors and irating goosebumps, we are living in Cebu! We must use our native dialect to inculcate values and knowledge to our children. The native tongue where we once were so proud way back when is slowly falling down the overtures, and is endangered of being extinct. One day, and i fear this day come to be when i am still breathing the breaths of these foreign tongues, that no one will ever speak the syllables of bisaya, where no one sings the lyrics laced with sweet melodies of our own language. Why do we try to mimic everything our conqueror does Are we that unconscious of our servitude when we do such inglorious acts? Well, i am not one to speak, and even though i am ranting and raving these indignant and impetuous whiplashes, the dialect i am using to make my entries is not my native tongue. I do not know how that would be different to the one i am indignant about, but i'm confident that they are two diverse cases. And that even though i make use of the little knowledge vested unto my hollow brain on the english tongue, i am still proud, and i take pride in that pride, that i am a cebuano-speaking, english-writing, son of the soil unique to the land where i stand. Hinaot sa akong pag-yawyaw ug mga maka-bukhad mata na lalis, naa koy mabukhad ug laing mga mata.


Let the children of today enjoy their being a child. Don't pressure them to grow up just because the world is running in a seemingly fast-paced, dynamic, and illogically-dictated method. Our children must take pride not only from where they were born, from what their inheritance is, but also from what language that is distinct to us. The moment we start talking like our colonizers is the moment we accept wholeheartedly the servitude they have inculcated in us. They have succeeded in making us their stray pets. We are smarter than what they expect of us. They have undermined our intellect since time immemorial, and that is one aspect we can use to our advantage. We can catch them by surprise as to how mindful we are to our pride as Filipinos, who up until now will be more than willing to raise arms, battle the oppressors who perpetually opress us.


Enough of this politics talk. I am going nowhere, and certainly this won't do me any good. But we must have a receptacle where we can continually and uninhibitingly throw away the nuisances in our minds; not that this is one of it, but it might be categorized on the same rank. Who has never been indignant to the bureaucracies of the 21st century certainly isn't living the real world as the billions of humans are? So much to talk about, so little space. If i'd be given a chance to just press on the keyboard that is already grimacing in acute pain as i incessantly, though formally, greet the little boxes imbued with corresponding letters with my semi-folded and always-ready fingers, i would fill up a mile of blank notepad pages. And i do use notepad, it is not only convenient, but also doesn't underline every single mistake that is non-coinciding with the rules of spelling and grammar as dictated by the people i was whiplashing with my tongue a while ago. Let us be proud!


We may deny our tongue, recant our nationality, but one thing we can never deny,implicitly or explicitly is the fact that within our blood and strands of protein-coated chromosomes laiden out with a double-helix deoxyribonucleic acid, we are, and will ever be the Filipinos the foreigners so love to love. We are what we are, and could never become anybody else. Pinoys are diamonds in a rough!^^,

I'm finding myself constantly taking a peek at the seemingly insurmountable piles of risographed paper printed with situations aimed to measure the prevalence of procrastination within the current 20th century bureaucracy (exhaling..). We were asked to let 300 willing or unwilling volunteers, or should i say, victims to answer these papers. I have started disseminating a measley of these papers, but the thought of 300 just doesn't seem to encourage me as it should be. As far as i am concerned, it will really take a lot of guts to approach random strangers and let them answer your questionnaire hoping all the while that they wouldn't and would just go along their insignificant lives. But nonetheless, since this is a requirement, and it is imperative for me to finish this before due, i am bereaved of alternatives. But amidst all the constant doubt-confidence struggles within the deep corners of my schizophrenic mind (well, almost schizophrenic), i will try everything that i am privileged or cursed with to try and reach my target goal.


I am done stapling these papers, 3 pages each, yesterday. At the start of my stapling errand, i got irritated so much by the out-of-tune clacks of the stapler as i press it against the no-resistance sheets of paper. It isn't really much of a task if you think of it. But if you try to remember, i must get 1 page per bundle, by the way, i had around 900 sheets of paper, staple them together, and do it perfunctorily. Once you get the hang of the routine, it is effortless. But after some time, around 100+ pages gone and done, you get to feel the aches in your back, the flow of your blood gets blocked as you sit for a very long time, your hands start to vibrate in fatigue, and lastly, your ears starts to hear the clacking sound of the stapler even though you are resting. And as a result to the lack of other things to do, as i have a very short attention span, i tried to count the number of staple wires in one magazine: and amazingly, they're equally 54 per. See what boredom results to? Even the nuances of life, you start to enjoy. And if i may ask, what would be wrong in enjoying the little things of life? It is in them that life's clockwerks, its sprockets and nuts and bolts get lubricated to rotate in a much smoother, noise-free way. After about 2 hours of stapling, pausing and stapling again, i finished all 300 pages. And the reward of something you did in conviction, or with compassion, if we try to be melodramatic, is worthwhile. I lied down my un-clothed bed, and stretched as if it was the first stretch i had in so far. It felt good having to reach the end goal that was once at the limit of our sight, and was now behind our sight where we cannot see when we do not turn our heads back. But the clacks still played in my ears though. And i will assure you that it is not at all that comfortable. Clack, clack, clack!


I was really about to go to sleep before i typed, not to sound too mechanical, this reminiscence. I have decided yet again to delay this nonsensical entry. But something in me, again in my unfailing schizophrenic mind, just isn't satisfied with mere dialogue of selves. Monologue maybe since it only is a talk between me and i.


Believe it or not, the election for college SSC is fast-approaching. Irrefutably and irrevocably approaching in an unstoppable pace. I didn't know it was suppose to be if i was not able to go to the proclaimed main campus. I came there to have my questionnaires risographed so i may start distributing them to spiteful, some pitiful victims. And as i was meandering in child-like ignorance, i happen to glimpsed a tarpouline of seemingly irritable, not-too-pleasing shades of unknown hues and tints. I approached it in a stalking manner, and the nearer i got, the clearer the words were. Election! At first i thought it was the national elections, the elections for national office where dinosaurs devour crocodiles, and lions scare off the puny cats, but it was the ever-hailed and ever-commercialized SSC elections of our school. I wasn't too excited at first since i wasn't critical after that. But when a friend of mine announced (i do not know if it was implicit or explicit) that he was running for a seat in the school government, and was preparing for a sugar coated, deception-ful speech, all hell broke lose. I began to question the motives behind the formation of such council when to begin with it is just a pet to the despised SAO.It claims to be that it is incumbent in them that they are the voice of the students, when for a fact they cannot even go against the one entity that the students so despised because of implementing absurd and useless rules. The self-proclaimed voice of the students are the megaphones of SAO. All they do is reverberate every syllable this entity speaks, and it has been that ever since i stepped and opened my eyes to the politics of our school.


I have again returned to the real world. I have been an aficionado to the world of imaginings and fantasies. The harsh part is that i am always not able to stay there for long periods of time. The world of imaginings maybe as reveling as the thought of pistachio flavored ice cream, but the real world isn't that bad as normally expected of it. I think i am now contented with what i am able to express after the giddyness before this. It has been a prima facie, that reality is subjective, and i do not have the current capabilities to counter that, so as of the moment, i must agree. We define reality in our own unique way. What is real for me if you may ask? It is everything the mind can embrace. Keep it real! =]

Bourgeois day! Love that word..I'll see to it that i'll be using that word occasionally. Have i ever told that i love words?Luciferous logolepsy in word-nerd jargon. It simply means an illuminating love for words. I really cannot retrace where i got infected with it, but as far as i know, everytime i immerse myself in a wordhunt, i can't seem to control my emotions. I seem to get ecstatic with every new find. Although i cannot remember every word i learn, and most of it just sits in the corner of my unused and forgotten words' bank, i usually feel like a kid in a toy store. By the way, bourgeois means ordinary, commonplace, typical.


Another ennui-filled day. I seem to have them more often now. Is it from the lack of conviction to make each day explode in exuberance? I'm certainly lacking conviction these past few days. No inspiration, no mind-swirving debates, no thought-provoking inquiries. Just plain old times void of thinking. Living in a routine-dictated life has made me mechanical. Every action calculated, every work is planned. When can i ever break this chain of expected actions? It has gotten inside my gut and is inducing vomit. Forgive the macabre language. It is as it is.


These past few days, i noticed myself pulled down in a slump. I have these times every once in a while where inspiration just escapes me. There are also times where everywhere is inspiration for me. I do not know where and how it came to be, but this is one of those times where i am bereft of inspiration. The words just don't seem to be organized, and i don't seem to flow spontaneously when i compose. Writing while thinking just doesn't seem right, and something just feels pretentious when i read them. It doesn't feel genuine, as if it is fabricated for the sole purpose of recognition. I want to write like water flows downhill. Sometimes i am like that, and sometimes, like this time, i need to think deep, take calculated risks, fit in a tailor-fit facade to conceal the absence of imagination in me. My imagination must be exonerated nonetheless, as it has nothing to do with me being in this melancholic situation. If my imagination is like a body of another dimension, as i believe it is, it is perpetually existing, intangible though. Well, if we so believe in an intangible, imperceptible, can never be seen, heard, smelled, or touch god, then what would be if we just believe in another intangible? Imagination is broad, if anything, even god belongs to our imagination; a collective one though, one of which convened by society, coerced in our easily-persuaded minds, and dictated constantly to induce conformity. What is it with me and society? I seem to castigate its salient effects and influence on an individual. Who could blame me? Convention has made man a prisoner in his own world.


Let me end with telling you that i just cannot stop myself from being addicted to mango chips! As long as my memories take me, it has showed me that i loved dried mango, and up til' now, i still do. What is it about them that i do not seem to get full of? Well, we all have something that we are addicted to, it just so happens that i am addicted to dried mangoes. Hurrah for the Philippines for making such a palatable snack. I just hope that i won't diagnose myself upon waking up with a severe sore throat. I hate sore throat. It domino effect's every aspect of my physicality. From my cough to my sinusitis, one ailment leads to another. So let me ask to those who are holy to at least spare me my healthy throat. Pretty please!

A lightless night,
where only flickers of candles
burn in lethargy.
The rain is in an uproar
sky shattered by thunder
every after ephemeric flashes.

I look above
to try to see
where the rain would end.
But from the last of my sight
i still see rain.

I look below
the road opposite the sky
There's nothing.
But as beams of light
flash the abhorred darkness
I see the rain
shatter as it hits the road.
Like thousands of dandelions,
they are.
Scattering with every gentle breeze.
One sprouts,
as one disappears.

My almost numb skin,
dripping and shriveled
As i carelessly walk
against the rain.
I realized i'm lucky.
For I have been one
with the sky.

The rain as it falls,
connects the sky
from the ground.
Whatever the rain touches,
has been touched
by the sky.

Only the rain
connects heaven from earth.
As a gift or a curse,
it falls.
Only the rain
makes equals of men
For it reminds us
that we're here below
as it is from above.
Only the rain
sends the message of heaven
as it falls.



©deluterio2010

Here i am again finding myself breaking my promise of activeness. I have tons of meticulous cat muscle parts to memorize, and what am i doing? You got it right. Procrastinating. It's like a suppressed disease treated momentarily. Then in an unexpected aggravation, the once latent viral infection, came back with a new strand of chromosomal dna. Blah! Health jargons. But you get my point. I thought i have alleviated this disease, i may have thought wrong and may have jumped unto my bandwagon too early. Have i retrogressed? I think so not for i do not believe in retrogression in any way it is defined and elaborated. Nobody retrogresses, for one will never be the person he was in the past. The past will always remain within the realm of rememberings, never to be lived again, never tangible. A person can imagine himself being what he used to be, but it's just all that: mere imagining, never to be realized into a perceptible entity. Let's retrogress (not the person-type of retrogression, but more like a topic retrogression)! I have to once again find that pill that could have, may have, cured my procrastination. And i may have an idea as to what was it. Effort!


I think zoology21 can wait. It won't go anywhere as it is stagnant and is fixed under the foundations from which it was built upon. As of now, let me grieve on the first day since forever that i have not seen the love of my life. She, if it is not confidential, has gone to Cagayan de Oro. Of gold! Would we ever see glittering bars of tantalizing gold in that place? If so then i think every money-whores would flock that place, strip it with it's wealth, then leave as if the purpose of that place is for them to benefit from it. Ayn Rand emphasized the virtue of selfishness. Man is selfish and would seek and move forward with the thing that they think can contribute to their attainment of pleasure. And since pleasure is innately good, whatever we may do to attain it, the means to its end, is good. So is man ultimately a selfish creature? I believe so that we are. And just by denying that fact is in itself a selfish mode of defending the person. We seek everything that can, consciously or unconsciously, bestow us with pleasure. But then again, as Thomas Hobbes insinuated, not as a retaliation or a rebuttal, but as a supplement, that nothing in this world is in itself good or in itself bad. It's just the way we label the things we desire or detest. Man makes himself or others good or bad. It is how he label the things he desires or detests, therefore every code of conduct or morals and laws are mere subjections of what men thinks ought to be done and ought not to be done. And whatever is subjective does not apply to the totality of the human race, hence the relativitistic relationship of what is good and what is bad.


In an ineffacacious conviction trying to expunge my procrastination infection, i must study zoo21 after i have placed this on my self-gratifying blog. Since i was just a highschool student, i used to like to have my own blog, and it is only now that i have myself one that would cage the nomad in me. As i am an expedient person, and as was vindicated in my 16pf test, i do not stick to one thing for periods of time. I must do something different after a few days if lucky. And since i have been practicing awareness for myself, it is a start. Knowing your flaws, you may have a better chance on working on these, either going beyond it or just simply avoiding it. I'm more of the former. I am not an avoidant person, so much so that i tend to clash everything head on. If i have to, i will have to face it alone. Alone-ness is the predicament we will be in when our journeys are long since overdue. All that we will have is ourselves, except for those schizophrenic people and those with the dilemma of multiplicity, they'll never be alone. Man's struggle for living is only to himself and no one else. We cannot struggle for someone else's life. Our essentials may be the same, as a gradually rotting entity, but the meaning we imbue our own lives are up to us.


Suddenly strucked by somnolence, so i must now move away from this scintillating quasi-smoothed rectangular box. With its glaring glow, i have to squint a bit, which can, for a fact, induce drowsiness, which tonight, is not an option for me. I'm considering sleeping and wake up at dawn then study. I must go, and weigh the things which really matter to me. Not that it matters, i am just made to believe that it does matter. Free will, you will have to wait til' tomorrow! I will myself that! =]

Was suddenly struck with sinusitis. So sudden there was no caveat or whatsoever. It happened like a breeze happens for the trees. It started with a facile sneeze that complicated into a series of more sneezing and tearing. From the constant achoo-ing,came the consequent swelling of my eyes. My eyes tinted with red like squeezed tomatoes. After the seemingly uncontrollable parching of my eyes, i had a difficult time opening them, well not difficult in the sense that i cannot open them, difficult in the sense that when i do open them i get glared then i squint in discomfort from light that is not even there. And then, the moment of could-not-open-eyes-anymore comes. I closed my eyes hoping for a apacing remedy. I kept thinking that every ailment is a product of the mind; whatever the mind conceives, the body achieves(Pharmaton!). But in my deep (deep enough for the likes of me) and quasi-solacing meditation, nothing happened to my sinusitis. I opened my eyes, and unsurprisingly the symptoms never did get away. If anything, it got worse. At that moment i thought, i have to at least take my medication; though modicum, it could at least assuage me temporarily, enough for me to have walked my love home.But sadly, the effects of my medication took about 2hours to partake, and it was just too late. But, better late than never, as they say!


Right now, the more atrocious symptoms have slowly dissipated away. Where to? I hope far away from here, never to be disturbing me in my slumber. Traces of the footprints the nefarious sinusitits still remains though, but not much, just enough to make me breath uncomfortably with my mouth. Mouth breathing requires effort. Breathing is supposed to be effortless and subconscious, and i am, nonce, not privileged with it. I am also feeling the soporific after-effects of the medications i took. I don't want to be visiting the realm of dreams so early as i may wake up unexpectedly in the middle of dawn, finding myself unable to sleep again. I am already acquianted with 5-6 hours of sleep already, and if i am not in rote to it, i find myself, more often than not, very tired. The odium towards the despised sinusitis doesn't just stop there. The one thing, and the most ominous thing that i fear about this is when it complicates into asthma. Yep! My asthma has returned. I have had asthma since time immemorial, but i haven't had it since 1st year highschool. I had it back after 9 years of asthma-liberated life, and believe me, i have forgotten how it felt like and i think it came back packing a more stronger kick. That is the one thing i fear tonight when i go to sleep; being awakened by a wheezing, cat-like exhalation. An indubitable sign of asthma. I don't want to be going through the same ordeal as i had last December, i hope not. Well, if i do, again, what else could i do but prepare? How can i be prepared enough over something i cannot expect when its occurence will be? Then again, we can never be prepared enough of life, or death. We are students of life, and blatantly, we can never be masters of it. We harness the adversities life endows us with, but we cannot manipulate it or whatsoever to our own benefit. We can use the wind to hasten our journey, but we cannot ever redirect where it should blow.


My aimless verbiage, no matter how scathing, always leads me to life. It only goes to show one thing: that i am a punctual and diligent student of life. I learn new things from it, simply from inquiring and living. But inasmuch as my excessive learnings from life, i need to practice control. It is something i am not very good at, but i do hope i will manage. I am a master of my own self. We all are. Tonight, i want to end in something voluminously debated about. Are we really privileged with "Free Will"? Personally, i believe in a will, but not a free one. How that is, i still am not sure, but i'll try to expound on it tomorrow. Meander until i get to something insightful and serendipitous. And i think i should start praying already. To whom? I don't know. Or maybe i should not. The time spent on praying is wasteful. I should just introspect more so i may know something new about myself every night. Man continually grows! We should.

I woke up to a sun-less morning
the gray and white sky beckons a crack
to let a shimmer of light
peep momentarily.


It started to pour
with no caveat, so sudden.
Now my scene is curtained
by countless strings of rain.


I head outside,
to see what raucous it has made.
Twist the knob of my creaky door-
this door where no one
but the wind has opened.


The ground is smoking
When dust meet rain
The trees raise their branches.
The stone darkened from color,
to where it was once pale.


But what stuck my eyes the most
is a man running.
His hair heavy and damped.
With every trudge he made
a splurge is sure to follow.
In haste he ran
Against the breeze,
against the road,
against the rain
Hoping he'd save a dry spot.


I followed him in sight
to where i wished he'd stop.
If only i headed outside a little sooner
I would have said to him to just walk
For no matter how much he sped,
it will still be raining up ahead.


©deluterio2010

First day of February, the supposed love-month of the year. Not that we only get love during this month, the all-hailed, sugar-coated Valentines day is celebrated and reveled during this month. Hence, love month. But the start of this month is not of love, but of disappointment and devastation, if i may exaggerate. But hey! As i always say to those who are in dismay (pardon the rhythmic swag), Sh*t happens! Inasmuch as valentines day is sugar-coated, so is every sh*t in our lives coated with everything bitter and unpalatable. We cannot undo sh*ts, but what we can do is, go beyond it. Transcend! Grow! Learn! Prove! and Live! Life may be sh*tful of cumbersome happenings, but not all the time. Not all the time. It is
alright to be grief-stricken, it is after all a normal and primal human emotion. But let it not make you think that the world ceases to revolve around the sun just because you have encountered an anticipated but unwanted detour. Get up! And move on! Use the feelings you are currently imbued with, and use it as an impetus, let it drive you towards the achievement of your life goals, don't let it down you. If anything, those things may draw you back, but once it releases you, like a slingshot, you will be propelled as far as you can imagine.


I myself am going through the same ordeal as any of the people who have failed (i don't want to use such term, but i want to be frank about it), i feel their sentiments, but what more could i have done? No matter how much i wanted to help, the only thing, the best thing that i could do is sympathize with them. I may not totally feel what they are feeling, but at least in their schlepping, i may offer myself as a temporary walking aid. REBT dispute of the day: "How could one major exam ever end your life as a student?" Whatever these people are going through right now, i hope they remember that the clock still ticks, and the sun still perfunctoriously follow the same path. And as long the day keeps on turning into night, the night will also keep on turning to day. Hope should be the last thing you must lose, for it is the mana with which everyone must imbibe so as to keep up with the struggles and adversities of life. Quoting Nietzsche: "What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger!" After hearing or seeing the much-anticipated, much-prayed for news, and you are still breathing, kicking, and well, feeling devastated, you are still alive! And that in itself is worth the celebration. Revel in the downtimes of life, for they are only the appetizers (notwithstanding the fact that they may taste bitter). The best things in life are not given nor bargained to us, they are achieved solely by us. Bask under these trying times, think of it as something that can benefit you, and you will benefit from them. Life is too beautiful to be wasted on mere failing grades! Let us not start limiting the grandiosity of life by petty numbers, it'll lose its sense. Live through it! Live!


On a less downing note, i have decided that form now on i will be trying to control the things that are overflowing as i type my diary. Moderation is always the key, and too much of everything is, obviously, too much. I just can't be jumping from topic to another random topic as i go along and i press the keys of my keyboard. I just love the sound of clacking keyboards, it's music to my ears. And mind you, i can type without looking at the keyboard! Modesty aside. Time to put off the faucet now, and finish this day's peregrinating. I want to end in a hopeful note though. Hmmmmm. Bob Marley's Three Little Birds: "Don't worry about a thing! Coz' every little thing is gonna be alright. Rise up this morning, smile with the rising sun!" Last thing that all of us should lose is hope. Let it be inculcated in us that hope is the mother of all values. When we wake up after our sleeps, it is a sign that we should continue moving. So for tonight, let's try sleeping, and once we wake up, let's start it with a smile. Aja! Our name is hope, and we will be here to stay! =]

The day of reckoning has arrived for the most important person in my life, and sadly (that word doesn't even fit the pulsating thuds of my heart) she didn't pass. I cannot feel, or may insufficiently feel what she is feeling right now. If i'm already destroyed here, what would she be going through? After all the hardworks she put, the stressful month of November of reviewing, the gaining of nuisant weight, and the hundreds of pages of institutionalized books read, what would she be feeling right now? I have an idea of what it may be, but i cannot near comprehend the devastation of it. All i have is a view above, and i am not in the crossfire of the array of feelings she may be experiencing right this moment. I like to feel helpless, but honestly i am not in any way feeling impotent. Sh*t happens! All the time. If you are not strong enough to even accept that a priori/a posteriori fact, then you will not be strong enough when you will be bombarded with this shits! As i say, reviewing or not reviewing, everyone has got a 50-50 chance of passing or not passing; visited 10+/- churches, against someone who hasn't even visited one, still the same chances of passing--50-50. Hence, the world is turning with a 50-50 chance of ceasing.


Inasmuch as i want to be happy with the 37,527 out of the 94,462 takers, something is just holding me back. Wicked as it may seem, i'd bargain my soul (if it is even worthy of being bargained) for all those passers to fail in exchange for my life to pass. Another jawdropping, not in a good jawdropping way, result would be that only 39.7% had passed. Again, inasmuch as i want their standards be raised considerately inorder to screen the worthy from the un-worthy, i just can't imagine how few had passed. Numerically, 37thousand is no small number, but juxtaposed to the total takers, it just doesn't graze the surface. I don't know if i'm being too empathetic, but i really do comprehend what they are going through right this instance as they find their names skipped by another name. Or slightly i feel what they feel, because it is just too different when you are the one actually searching for your name. The devastation you may feel. I want to tap them all on their backs, tell them that life doesn't actually rotate around a license. REBT disputes: Never think that one exam can encompass the totality of your life. How can one exam (no matter how grand the stage) actually make you a dumb person already? If you are not too lazy,you can actually research on people who didn't have a spontaneously successful youth, and still became successful. Don't be a conformist and adhere to the seemingly rigid and grandiose institutional quagmires. Work your own life away from the blatant dictates of control-freaks.


If only i can reverberate my thoughts into each and every one who has failed the board exam, i would tell them that it is not totally their mishaps and incompetencies and lack of knowledge and skills, that resulted to their failing, but other variables which they do not consciously consider. AND! If i may opine, it is not god's will whatsoever. Those irating nonsense that keeps on replaying over and over again as an external mechanism for ego-defense is grounded on spongy bones. It may not also be your will, and i assure you that it is nobody's will. You fail because of your own limitations and current capabilities. But hey! Do not slouch and depreciate yourselves! For we are an evolving species and we continue to grow and learn. As Frazier in Walder Two, a book written by B.F. Skinner once said: "We are the causes of ourselves!" We cause ourselves to be, and by that assertion, we make our own lives by the choices we make, the responsibilities we take, the impedimentas we leave behind, and by the life we live. Remember! We are the causes of ourselves.


Frazier has thrown the gauntlet, and let us follow through! Let us cause ourselves. We may be influence by the copious array of external factors, it is still insubstantial as to our influence on ourselves. Let us cause ourselves! We may be catalyzed and proselytized by extraneous factors, this is nothing compared to how we catalyze and proselytize ourselves.


So, to truncate the pedestrian withdrawing of nonsense from my mind, i would like to advice the failers, "the race is not to those who run fast, but to those who continue to run!" Run! Stack up on breathes, gather your stamina, you will eventually get there! As to the color of my painting, the flavor to my water, the life of my life, the love of my life, i will always be here for you! Always has, always will. I know you are capable, this is just not your time to shine yet. Always remember that everything, shit or otherwise, happens for a reason. Let us together, and i will assure you that i will continually be by your side, find that reason. As for the two of us, our reason has long been known, and it is to live each other's lives in each other's company. You are my reason! And we'll live through this like we always do! Aja! =]