I have decided to use “Word” for my daily diary. There’s nothing odd about it, I just thought it’s an interesting thing to point out. But then again, even interest is relative; what may be interesting for me may not be for everybody else. The world is governed and powered by relativism. ¬People can never agree on a common quagmire-like ground, and even this adage is no exemption. Why have I decided to use “Word” as the victim for my nonsensical and nonchalant reminiscence? That I do not have a satisfactory answer. All I know is that I have been using “Notepad” since I began this vice, for lack of a better term, and when I repost it on my blog, countless typos surge up as I re-read. Not that I do not reread them before posting it officially (I do not know if official is the correct term), I just do not notice them. I get lost when I read. When I read, it’s like I’m being put in a labyrinth of words and thoughts that I indulge so much with it I tend to deviate from what seems to be real. And that doesn’t happen when I happen to read school books. I’m just not too inclined on reading them heartily. Though I too get lost reading them, but not because of them. I hate reading, believe me, I really do hate it. But because of a lack of sensible things to do during my wan and tedium times, I usually decide to just scan some pages, and end up scanning more than I pre-decided.

Let’s cut off to the chase. I just noticed I have been swimming on shallow waters. And I don’t want to be too high-flown either. I have been staring my glaring monitor, the effect of which is squinting my lachrymose eyes as an after-effect of a retaliating sinusitis, and nothing, has visited or even knocked my mind. I’m in a predicament of nil, of emptiness, of nothingness. But then again, the world is governed by relativism; what is nothing to one, may be something to another one. Relativity! My friend for the night.

Let’s talk about expectation. For the most part of my life, or the most part of my life where I am now able to think expansively (I’d like to think that I have an expansive thinking), I have been plagued, thwarted, and bullied by it. Sometimes, it fuels you to achieve what you are capable of. Sometimes, it brittles the bones, dries up your blood, and atrophies your muscles. Too much of it is no longer fit for living. It not only puts you in an ordeal of confusion as to who is the rightful owner of your life, it also forces you to attain what you do not want to attain. Expectation, if anything is virulent (biology jargon). But like any diseases, it too has a mend. And it is within us. It is either we get eaten up by these expectations, or we get to deflect it. The latter is easier said than done. But just like living, it is doable. We have been living for so long our own lives, why let anything get in that way? Sometimes in our measly and insignificant lives, we get to passionately assert ownership to our lives, and it is only then do we realize that no one but us owns what we have been calling as our lives.

The next million dollar question is then, are we really living? People haphazardly think they are, but to the precise extent to which their way of life is showing, they are only surviving. Not that it is a bad thing or anything. For if we do not first survive, we won’t be able to live. Then again, surviving is an instinct of man. While living, is an instinct of the man who wants to discover the world. At this current point in my life, I’d like to think I’m still in the process of asserting life. I have just recently wanted to live again, not survive, for I have always fought for survival all my life. Life is precious to me, and I will not waste it even in simple qualms and self-destroying ideations.

Life is precious! How can I ever accentuate on that to make it glow, glimmer, and shimmer? It is too precious to be wasted on hesitations. No one but us owns us. We have nothing in this world but ourselves, and it is in that realization that you get to live life with potence, passion, and conviction. I can’t say I’m already racing, but I do know that I’m warming up behind the starting line, waiting for my turn to run.

The soporific murmurs of the AC has brought solace to my turmoiled sinus. I have been able to get by the recurring tickling sensation inside my nose, thanks to the songs of Jack Johnson, the quiet night, and someone who has always, though recently never fails to make me smile. I am en rapport with the night’s betrothal to me for sleep. I’ll heed your proposal later, wait for my response.

While i was going home, riding an outdated, though considered-to-be-a-modern jinriksha, i was relieved to see signs of pity from the heavens. Rainclouds where abundant. And they were not just any other rainclouds, some of them are as dark as the asphalted road. The once scorching time of afternoon a while ago, was put off by a mob of rainclouds. Though the wind was still blowing sizzlingly grazing my earth colored skin, i was profusely thinking of what-if's. What if the rain falls? Would it, even a measly, assuage the predicament of our fellow earth-tilling Filipinos? Thinking of their predicament, juxtaposing it to the bickerings of the highly supplanted with relieving chill-producing, grumbling machines, they are on the far side of the suffering scale. What would they have to retaliate back at the mischievous nature? What do we have? When nature drops the gauntlet, nothing we have today will slow down its havoc. Having introspected, or at least an effort to do so, made me think of the beauty of a cyclic weather. Come rain, come shine. We are too dependent on nature. Sadly enough, we tend to disregard that dependence and pompously regal ourselves. Humans.


Keeping my head up, i started to feel disappointed. Dispappointed of the hundreds of rainclouds, some of them in a paroxysmic ordeal. Even in numbers they failed to pour the ever-anticipated rain. I notice them, although being many, they are quite scattered, they can't seem to decide a rendezvous point for all of them to gather and make a large clump of raincloud. Nothing is ever accomplished when eventhough your goals are congruent, but when your disperse and unorganized, nothing will ever be done. Dissipated rainclouds is never adequate enough to produce a large enough downpour to relieve the suffering of the landdwellers. They should collaborate, in that way they would be able to establish a stable enough ground to implement their goals.


Night has come, and the day, albeit plethoric with hope, has been done away. The one scorching zephyr has now been replaced by a quasi-chilling moan. I stopped to look at the sky once again before i enter my entrapment (an entrapment where i hide myself in shaky anonymity, all the while efface myself from my scathing inhibitions). The scattered rainclouds awhile ago that had sparked a little flicker of hope within me, were gone. All i see atop the canvass of the night were stars glowing in monochromatic scintillations. Some stars were red, and you won't miss its glimmer. Some are blue, some are plainly white. But amidst their diversity, they never fail to beautify the sky. If the night could express gratitude, it would thank the stars first for its effort of catching the attention of unconscious people. Why do people no longer stop to look at the sky? It may not have the answer to life (nothing is actually), but it does have a panacea-effect. It doesn't take alot to retract your neck up, stare at the wondrous sky. If you are patient enough, you may count the stars. But i suggest you don't. You'll go insane even after reaching a thousand.


Well, forgive my unimaginativeness tonight. With chuck-a-block of school stuffs to think about, the things that paints my thought with diversely waved refraction of light are pushed and set asunder to the darkest basement of my mind. I'm pretty sure that after this week and the week after, my mind will be free once again of a wan imagination. As of this moment, let me just continue to hope for rain to pour down the heavens. It is one of those days that rain is free of odium. We love the rain, don't we? Even a modicum of it is already a gift. So the rainclouds awhile ago, i hope when you do come again, be sure to gather around a rendezvous for no one is effective alone. A dispersed mob, is but an unaware crowd walking their own walks, living their own lives (if there'd be one), thinking their own blank thoughts. Think as one!=]

shame kills. And it does so by suffocating the inner vitality within us. Whatever life that is proliferating inside the realms of our being, is suppressed by a resilient murderer. Whatever glimmering talent we have, which a divine architecture has bestowed to us, is corralled by an iron-clad jail. Shame is resilient and does no one good. Watching the story from someone in the Philippine's talent competition "Pilipinas Got Talent", succinctly PGT, it really drained my heart from all its juices of primordial emotions. When i heard her sing, it permeated out. With such a voice, a voice that can shake the very foundations of Philippine talent world, and only to be jailed by shame, it is painful. While she was singing, a hodgepodge of emotions filled up to the brim the dram that catches my feelings. I felt happiness for her effort of at least sharing her talent to the world. I felt excitement for her future as a famous belter. I felt sorrow for her sorrow. I felt anger for her chickening out and hiding in the dark for so long. With such a voice, she could have lit up the dim faces of many. An amalgam of emotions i have not obviated. Nonetheless, it was during her singing that i truly felt again the genuine pride of being akin to her.


shame does no one good, and it certainly should never be considered as an alternative to protect one's ego. Our ego is easily chagrined and is too brittle. It certainly is selfish too. All the things it wishes is aimed for self-preservation, if not totally, mostly. As living, sentient beings who wishes nothing less than living, we should have a robust gumption of willingness to live life, show what it is that we are gifted with, and explicitly announce to the world of our pride for it. Going back to the woman in PGT, she was a diamond amongst a bar of gold. It glitters all by itself, and it will not fail to make you notice of its glamour and prismic emanation of 7 wavelength-ed light. She was too amazing to be passed by. I do hope she makes, not only in the show, but also straight to where celebrities are accomodated; tv screens.


Let's askew a bit (not a bit actually, if anything, let us askew sharply). Forever is never attainable. It is like something only found at the limit of your sight, that as you draw near, it draws far simultaneously. Take this analogically fabricated scenario: a piece of carrot tied to the head to be in front of the rabbit's head, and the more the rabbit runs to grab a bite of the carrot, the carrot moves with it. They are in a never ending push-push predicament. Forever moves farther back as we try to move towards it. I do believe, and i do hold strongly to this tenet that forever is just a frame of mind fabricated by those who are fearful of living what is actually now. Since they are still undecided as to whether today will turn out worthwhile, they resort to using forever as an excuse to have to circumvent the ordeal they are facing for "now". And since no man has ever reach the point of forever, then they can evade the blame of the flaws of today promised to be repaired in forever, since again, let me emphasize on this, forever is unreachable. Good for stars, that even though no one has ever reach even a kilometer close, they exude light which signals and vindicates their existence.


We should live for now and for tomorrow. And since tomorrow itself, like forever, unattainable, let it just be a lighthouse to our ships. We are veered towards tomorrow, and whatever it is that we are facing, we are perpetually flowing downstream. The momentum that tomorrow has left is so strong that it sucks in an invisible vortex everything that is behind it, that is of course with the inclusion of now and everything else before "now". Tomorrow is like a freight train moving unhesitantly towards an unset goal, living behind it a cyclone sucking whatever it passes by. But no matter how fast we run, how convicted we may be, we can never ever be inside the train of tomorrow. We can visualize it, whim for it, hope it to be, but that is all there is to it. Everything is just a resilient thought in our minds. In zombieland, only now exists. Everything else is non-extant. Yesterday may have been, but we could never be in it again. We deceive ourselves hoping that we could turn back the ticks of time, go forward the tocs of time, but if we open our eyes, grasp whatever it is that we can grasp, all we have in life is today. Our mistakes are done today, after it has been, it could never be again and all there is left to do is set it right directly or otherwise, after it. Our wishes for tomorrow remains a wish, and when it does come to be today, it would have lost its being a tomorrow's wish.


The bottomline of my incessant bafflegabbing is that all we have, the only arsenal we have in our disposal is today. It is "now" that is important, but not essential, for everything is essential: past, present, future. We get to live life today, right this very instance. We try to equivocate the burden of having only one day to live the totality of our lives, failing to comprehend that the totality of our lives is just impedimented in a day. We are only alive for one day, and that is now! Why waste now, when tomorrow is promised to no one, Leo Buscaglia once insinuated. And let me add to that beautiful tenet: yesterdays are never assured to anyone that it existed, tomorrow is never promised to anyone, today is a privilege for everyone to prove to themselves and to anybody else that they are living. I am here today! Ask me again tomorrow if i still am..=]

Chagrined by the lack of conviction for living. Lately, i have been like a walking zombie in the land of the semi-alive people. The bubble in which i placed myself into, to bounce of any contagious nuisances, has become my own corral. I have involuntarily enclosed myself just by being haphazard in the methods of my living. I need to grasp that conviction which i have been clamouring for so long. I am no longer living, but merely in a state of constant surviving. Living is not a tantamount to surviving. The latter is bereft of an urgency of making my living experience worthwhile. The former on the other hand is what i am aiming for. It has been elusive thus far, and has eluded even my greatest whim. I want to live! Not the living sense of just plainly breathing, walking, thinking; I want to live like everyday is with a thought that tomorrow will never be. I want to live indifferently of other's dictates and comments. Live like everything is a first, and everything is an end. But my hands are tied behind my back, and my legs crossed uncomfortably. I am left with no alternative to life but to survive. And that in and of itself is not a bar below living. Everyday we are in a predicament of life-threats, we continually install ourselves in situations that has an innate ability to break the twig of our lives and effortlessly remove us in this living world. We put ourselves everyday in risks we are not aware of. But if you really widen the array of your perception, you will see just how many culprits with murderous intent there are. We should be happy we are surviving, it's the least we could do even though surviving is the most rudimentary form of experiencing life.


Living. Are there certain rules of thumb for living? How one must live their lives guidebook? I have been, these past few days, plagued by doldrum. There are times where i wish that everything sensible is just a figment of my imagination. Something that in a simple will of my consciousness becomes something i wish it to be. A while ago, while i was in a solitary walking, effortfully pulling my back to at least slow my pace down, i realized how life is so limited by whatever there is surrounding us. I walked towards the shadow of trees to at least assuage the burning heat of the sun, thinking that maybe even the trees that roofed me is also complaining of the sun. It has been very hot this past few days, hot is an understatement. Waters from dams have been draining in an unstoppable pace. It's very paradoxical to think that water is slowly in paucity, when the earth of composed of 70% water. Just goes to show how contingent we are to whatever it is that is surrounding us.


Amidst the solitary walking, and bathing the UV-filled atmosphere, i thought of something, the answer of which may be already obvious, but it is worth the inquiry nonetheless. Why are we, if we are all equal and stand on the same platform, not privileged with the same opportunities? Are opportunities slowly diminishing of its naturalness and is in continual flux towards the edge of inheritability? With my own two subjective eyes, i have seen that opportunities are now inherited, if not all, a great chunk of it. In an 8-sliced pie, 4 slices are already promised to one specific person, and the 4 remaining pieces are still debated as to who must have it. Sometimes it turns out to random persons. We work for our opportunities to be given to us. Like respect, it is not given but gained. We have to work hard for opportunities to be given to us. And once we have obtained an opportunity, the process of materialization is still a long way to go. From the continuous effort of grasping it, to the labyrinth journey we must undertake to reach what that opportunity has in store for us.


But you see, amidst that constant struggle to attain what we desire, we are no longer only surviving, we are also living. As we were given the most wondrous, yet the largest mistake, of putting us into this world, we must not only learn how to survive, but also learn how to live. We are in this incessant push-pull struggle of have's and have-not's. But it is only because of that struggle are we assured that we are living. We may not have everything we want, and not attaining every goals we set though is an archetypal human characteristic, we are still within the fine margins of a conviction laced life.


I am once again left to wonder of methods to put my feet on hot coal so i may not only walk lifelessly, but also feel everything i step unto. The best things in life are the things done in conviction. Opportunities may be abundant to the privileged, but happiness is not promised to anyone. Life is never assured of happiness though we are all assured of life. I am once again begotten with a promise to all the deities there are, that tomorrow will be less different than today! Less! After all, less is more..=]

I have been staring at my glaring monitor screen for many hours it seems, and i still don't know what i would do. I feel like i am now beginning to be dependent on organizers and to-list's. But no matter how i think of things to do, i just can't seem to focus my mind on one thing. And the bombardment of so many things i wanted to do has kept me fastened in my already-broken rolling chair, which by the way, is not comforting to the aching back brought about by age. There was a time when i wanted to just gorge on a book, read thoroughly from cover to cover, and just wait until the Sandman comes visiting me with his bag of dizzying sand. But, hours have passed since that commitment of task, and i still haven't opened a book. There came a time also when i wanted to just freely write whatever it is that comes to mind(like the one i'm doing as of the moment), but that too has diminished in motivation, and i still haven't started to write anything. Not that nothing is in my mind, believe me, so many things is in my mind, most of them are plainly inane and preposterous. Some are too inane to be even given the slightest attention. And awhile ago, i wanted to just lay down, wait for a poem to come to mind, control my hand to write the words as i describe the panoramic vision i see inside my bubble of imagination, but that too crumbled by laziness. And here i am now, spontaneously sensing the boxed keys of my keyboard, read the things my thought has plagued my mind. As John Dewey posited, "Act first, think later!" In my case, type first, think of whatever it is i am typing later. Such a motivating piece of advice by John Dewey.


It has been 3 days, 4 days to be exact, since 2 hours are just a fleeting of time, after our training in SACS, and i still haven't been able to go down cloud 9. I have been so elated by that experience that i am still as happy as i was right after that event. That day was not only successful, but it has been one of my best experience thus far. I have met so many people that have contributed to the sculpting of my new self, and i hope i have also contributed as much to the sculpting of theirs. Life is linear. Our lives are highways. And somewhere down the coils of life's roads, comes an intersection of highways. I am glad that at that day, mine has come across many. We have made crossroads out of straight highways. And deep in my heart of hearts, i do hope that one day, we'd go back to that crossroad, take a much needed stop within the junction of our crossroads, and share the things we weren't able to share.


Once in our lives, we'll be able to meet someone who will have touched our lives significantly that even the tone of their voices will have etched in our hearts. Within the shortness of our lives, we will meet people who actually made a difference in our lives, and sadly enough, even they chose not to stay. People come, and people go. No one ever does stay and watch us rot into non-existence. But that is the beauty of our journey through the white waters of life. We get to realize that we are dependent, and we are alone. Everyone is dependent of something or someone. And the worry of losing that something or someone we are dependent upon constantly teaches us the beauty of savoring every moment with that something or someone. It is only in the realization that nobody stays with us and watch us as our skin shrivels, as our bone curves, as our muscles flap, as our hair silvers, and as our memories diminish into mere darkness, that makes life wonderfully blessed. As of this moment in time, when we have the things and people that matters most to us, makes our lives worthwhile, for someday as the road on which we trudge decays, we realize that we are alone; placed into this world with no one, removed from this world with no one. Life is cruel! But what a wonderful time it is to have met people who, even though momentarily, has made your life a bar above cruelty.


Someday, the people we love we'd have to lose, the people closes to us will part ways with us, and that is inevitable. There are just certain things in our life that are too sad to just accept nonchalantly. We'd have to be proven of its inevitableness to slightly believe it, and even that will not completely persuade an individual whose outlook in life is as rosy as their wishful thinkings. Tonight has rained. It has been so long ago since the last water that fell from the sky, and this is shaping to be a melancholic night. The rain never failed to plant seeds for my imagination to sow, and this certainly is no exemption. The scorching heat of the sun has been angrily bouncing its fieriness. Water supplies has been slowly diminishing, but that is another issue. Come rain! Shower our lives with more of your grandiose. Life is cruel! But a wonderful privilege to have met everyone even though someday they'd depart the runway of life's airport. Enjoy the cruelty of life! =]

From the moment of awakening up to the time when i am typing this was hectic and filled with things that is baggaged in my mind. When i woke up at around 5:30am this morning to prepare the things which are essential in our activity today, i really do not know how things would go. I almost resorted to praying this day being successful, but i didn't. Surprisingly, i like the feeling of having to think of things to do rather than blandily wait for your day to greet the next. I checked my checklist of things that are already prepared, fetched the things that aren't, go through nonchalantly the happenings of today. Since me and my groupmates finished the flow of our activities, i have been steadfastly running through all of it imaginatively. From the things to say in front, to the things to ask in front, to how i should interact with them, and how i should present myself. I have also been imagining what their expressions would be, the things i would say i have scripted. I only gave up doing so the day before the reckoning day. The nuances i have thought,from the minute details to the gargantuan ones. Before they became sensible was once a part of the construct of my ideation.


Back to the exhaustingly elating events: I arrived at SACS at around 7am, +/-2minutes, waited for my groupmates to arrive all the while a little worried that whether or not they would get lost. The road to SACS is like a coiling roll of thread, if you do not know the way, getting lost is as easy as blinking. But 5minutes or so, they arrived. It was not only relieving but also thankful that they did not get lost. We took a seat at SACS waiting for the participants and for Ms.Cindy. Our active training started late than the expected time which was 8am. We started at around 8:30am, and all the things which have been in my mind, sequenced by the constant imagining since days before came crumbling down like a little snowball falling downhill. It was as if the things i was holding on was suddenly ripped from me. I came close to rattling, but i kept my cool, thought it over, and realized:"The best things in life are those that happen spontaneously!" Aren't they? I keep telling myself that whatever happens, happens. One can never expect that everything happens according to plan. I re-established my cool, thought that given this wonderful opportunity to be with people who is also willing to reveal themselves, strip themselves of limiting inhibitions, and possibly grow to be better persons, and only to waste it on a simple worry that can easily be wiped clean.


Honestly, and i hope sir Gerry won't be able to read this, but we did not actually follow religiously the planned flow for the day. So many things have been omitted and changed. But overall, i think it was all worth the modifications. At the end of it all, i felt that they really enjoyed their day with us. As much as we want to enjoy our first training ever, our first priority was always their enjoyment. Not just ordinary enjoyment, but learning something while enjoying. A fun heart could never be tamed by clear cut instructions. Our lectures were changed into games with learnings, we added ice breakers in between to, obviously, break the ice. But like any other things in life, their were down moments i thought. I saw some who were bored, so much so that they already wanted to get out. But they stuck with us,waited for the climax of the day, and i wished their emotions of boredom shifted 360degrees. Reading their comments in our evaluation sheets were touching and if anything, inspiring. Thanks to them we felt we did a good job, not just any good job,but a successful job. We felt we have accomplished our sole purpose, though dual, which is to inculcate learnings through fun and smiles.


This day is shaping to be one of my best day so far, and even though another one will come in the near future, this day will still be considered to be the best. I wasn't contented because we did a good job, i was contented because they were happy. After this day, i will look forward to more activities such as these. I'm willing to contribute my time to have another one of this again. This is a very memorable day that i called this day, fittingly, Feb27! The people who were a part of Feb27, may you savor the time we had as we will savor it. May memories be mutually shared between us and i hope that we have contributed to each other's smiles! Me, and my groupmates, will assure everyone in Feb27 that we will never forget you, if anything we would hope to see you again, in another miliue. Looking forward to that day sends shiver to my spines. Feb27 has made a burgeouis day extraordinary. We will meet again! That is inevitable! =]

All in a day's work! As the conventional cliche goes. A day burdened by aimless walks and child-like meanderings. Amidst the fatigued legs, and a realization of a childhood that never was, this day was ultimately productive. Almost checked everything in the check-list of unorganized to-do's and to-buy's. Who then can blame the aimlessness of this day? If not for the unorganization of tasks written on a crude, almost crumpled to nonextantness paper. Then again, destination is a sure end, but the journey is hidden with a plethora of surprises.


Do you know that i hate surprises? Notwithstanding the fact that it induces elating hormones to be secreted and distributed all around the nooks and crannies of my fatigued body, i just couldn't seem to grasp of the feeling i should feel. In plain and simple terms, i do not know how to react when being surprised. That is the primordial reason why i hate them. But over all, it makes one feel good. I'm no exemption! Life, as been said a thousand times, is full of surprises. The only thing we can expect is that we cannot expect anything. Life's non-sequential nature is prominent. We don't merely go to point C from a perspective of point A. We sometimes get lost and manage to reach the point of our goals from another point. In life, we always get lost. Be it literally or figuratively, we remain strangers to the jumbled streets of life. No map has ever been created for life, no one just can. And this may sound absurd, but, we should at least lose our way to discover new and amazing sceneries where we could not have seen if we continue to trudge to the laiden path for us. We sometimes should go against the grain of conventionality to realize what we are meant for in life. Sometimes getting lost can lead to us finding our true selves.


Before the subconscious, "where i was following you and you were following me" walks, i took a glance of a chance to read a snippet of Ayn Rand's: Philosophy: Who Needs it? book, and read somewhere there that how sure are we really of reality. Is the reality we perceived to be as one, really real or is it just a product of us making our own reality, hence an illusion fabricated by the mind? For a simple line, it really struck me. Really, what if everything we see around us, everything we feel, smell, hear, taste, and everything sensible around us is just something we thought would be as we think they should be? If that would be the case, then we are all alone in this world, no one else exists. We live in our little dimensional bubble where whoever, whatever else is in is just an illusion tangibly constructed by the mind to prove to itself that it can provide for itself amidst the solitude. But in a simple snap of a finger, all we think is unreal we somehow know to be real. Because if they aren't then how sure can we be that we are real? For one, humans are selfish beings, and we would likely and innately think that we are the only one capable of unlocking the secrets to life, what more for us to think that we are all alone and we are the only one who exists?


By the way, this has been my first diary entry. I had an involuntary 4-days hiatus. Reasons i do not intend to disclose, but it includes the down-days where imagination is half-dead. And another farfetching announcement: my 2 months hiatus on poem writing has just ended on the 20th, and it has been 2 days after since i wrote my first poem in months. Poesy is my escape, literally. In a world of social dictatorship and misleading politics, this is the only alternative of which i know, or think i know i am capable of. We are victims of conformity. Since we were tiny siblings, incapable of practicing freewill, we were already taught to comport to society. To adhere to its nonchalantly legistlated laws and agreements, many of which we, the supposed target of such laws know nothing about. A sad awakening! The government in which we are the foundations, are eating away the pillars with tempting greed and palatable offers of greed. Politics has lost its essence.


In my other blog, i wrote my abovementioned and above-introduced poem. I hope you enjoy! And i was tackling about the duality of a man. We cannot deny that we are different people in different contexts! Nobody is consistent. Just consistently inconsistent. People! We are dynamic. That's permanent!=]

While i was heading home riding a crude yet historically-significant vehicle, sitting directly next to where the exit is, and when i intuitively turned my head to my right as the jeepney started to roll up the inclined start of the "old bridge" i happen to catch a glimpse of an astonishing site. The moon, seemingly incomplete and devoured by darkness, begets a smile. The smooth edges of the curvature of its smile, scintillating in borrowed luster, seems to be too pretentious. Actually, its smile is more of a twitch of the lips. The kind of smile that is used to shroud feelings of sorrow. But that is just me. And the moon may just be showing what the sun wanted it to show.


Do you know that we are constantly seeing only the one side of the moon? We never get to see what is behind the exhausted moon. And i believe that we are like that. We only show to people, close or otherwise, one side of our selves. There remains in us an insurmountable inhibition where even if we are aware of such chasm between what to show and what not to show, we still pull ourselves back and refuse to show the totality of ourselves. We are different people when we are alone to when we are outside the comfort of solitude. But this doesn't make us pretentious. For we are not pretending to be anybody different, and it certainly does not misguide the people with whom we interact. We as humans are an amalgam of selves. We have this colation of different selves, and each of them are what constitutes the totality of our being. I am many, and so are you. We are distinct persons in distinct contexts, but we are still those persons. Water changes physical properties contingent to varying temperatures. Water can be ice when temperature falls down below the freezing point of water which is 0 degrees celsius, and water can also be vapor above the boiling point of it. We are like the water, we are amorphous, we continually, though sometimes unconsciously adapt to the surroundings in order for congruence to occur. We are an adaptive specie, we strive for homeostasis.


I have so many things that i wished to share to the people around me, so much so that i do not know where to start. But beneath the intention of self-disclosing there belongs a leash of plaguing inhibition. I believe we all have that certain dilemma where we just cannot show to the people around us what we truly feel, who we truly are, and where we truly want to go. We inefficaciously place ourselves inside the shoes of our observers and think of how they might react or think when they found out that i am this, i am that, whatnot. We already have a conclusion as to how they might think about us even before we showed ourselves to them. Talk about making a stereotype against ourselves. And i thought emotional self-inflicting of wounds via cutting the wrist reluctantly with seemingly every sharp object one can find is the most nefarious form of self-gratification via self-infliction of wounds. I have nothing against this specific type of group, as they have their own right towards unique way of self-expression. If anything, all i have for them is respect, but more on apathy.


Have you ever contemplated as to who among our friends can best describe us comprehensively who we are? I believe that even among the closest of my close friends, there still remains a room where i can comfortably breathe and move. We are just too reluctant in disclosing every information about us. We should be like the moon. Though we are only showing half of who we are, might as well show to every person an overview of what they may expect of us.


The moon is very dependent to the sun, not only as a source of luster, but as a source of almost anything. Like us, we persons are dependent to many things in life that is relative to everything. Live life relatively! And we may sometimes see ourselves behind the line labeled as conventionality. Life is relative! =]

I started my day with a thought-provoking, though rudimentary question: "What is at the edge of darkness?". Or perhaps, "What is at the edge of light?". The moment i opened my eyes to the still fresh lights of early morning, i was startled by such question. The obvious answer to the former question is of course light. At the edge of darkness is light, and subsequently, at the edge of light is darkness. But the provoking did not sprout from there. I started to generalize, and i think it is a good thing, that question to everything else in life: what is at the edge of love? at the edge of hate? at the edge of compassion? at the edge of apathy? at the edge of dreams? of hopes? of frustration? And so on. I promise i could go on forever, but then again, what is at the edge of forever? Questions after questions, and it can go on beyond the mind can comprehend. But i am more interested in the general outlook of darkness and light. Darkness being the negativities of life, and light, the contrast of darkness of course, the positivities of life.


Beyond our perceived reality, what exists? Beyond the the island on which we tread, what exists? Beyond the box in which we are placed unto, what exists? I think what constitutes and defines life is way bigger than what we truly think of it. Reality is never tantamounted to life, though it constitutes much of it, it's just isn't life. There is more to life than what actually meets the senses. Cliche as it may seem, it rings true wherever, whenever. Imagine if life is everything we see, how lethargic it would be.


If you did imagine, then you have installed yourself away from reality. I love that word, "installed". Sounds very mechanical. Reverting back to the topic: when we human persons are deprived of imagination, steadfastly holding only to what is tangible, then aren't we living a very monotonous life? As Opportunism purported, humans live one day at a time. We are capable of living without any guiding principles, without looking forward to anything, consciously! Aren't we always looking forward to something? Good or bad, for as long as it has not happened yet, and we suppose it to happen, then aren't we looking ahead? I do think it is impossible for us persons to not look what has not happened yet. C.D. Broads asserted that the future does not exist, only the past and the present do. It makes sense if you refuse to delve deeper. It sounds specious, so much so that it almost persuaded me into believing it. But if we look forward to something, imagine it almost at the verge of happening, then doesn't it exist? It may not be tangible, sensible, and outward, but it happened though only within the constructs of our mind, it existed. If we take into account the properties of memories, though it happened, it was once tangible, but along with the looking-forward-to's, it belongs within our mind. The only difference would be that one happened and one is supposed by us to happen. The future exists! For we will it to.


But not everything we will to happen, happens. As the simple, yet unequivocal adage goes ( i'm not too sure if it qualifies as an adage though) "Sh*t happens!". And it does! Things happen to us even if we do not will it to, even if we do not deliberately want to. It only goes to show that we cannot control everything in our lives. We may be the captains of our souls, but we aren't controlling the weather in which we are sailing. We are still determined by the things that are continually happening around us, good or bad. Then again, everything happens for a reason, sh*ts included. That also vindicates the deterministic nature of life. But i do not agree on the universality of the deterministic nature of everything. Some things just happens randomly, out of thin air. Spontaneity is still an admirable trait of life. Life therefore is spontaneous and determined.


What is at the edge of darkness? Is it light or is it still darkness? If we represent darkness as the opposite of love, what is at its edge? I believe, and i have so long ago held on to this tenet, that the opposite of love is not hate. For before you hate, you love. And hate is never the total and absolute absence of love. Love is omnipresent! The absence of it is the absence of feelings, therefore apathy. Leo Buscaglia once asserted that the opposite of love is apathy, and i believe so that it is. Not to care, not to consider, not to love at all is the other end of the paradigm. Does it therefore apply that at the edge of love is apathy? I hope so, but i also hope that beyond love is more love, and apathy is just a human failing that is unattainable and remains only within the realm of pessimistic thinking.


What is at the edge of darkness? That after every night comes day, beyond every shadow is the source of light with which it came to be. Beyond every failure, and at the edge of its every paremeter is the agent and the wanted end of the intention of succeeding. If you think of it within the context of shadow at noon, you can see clearly the paucity of shadows in relation to the plethora of the sun-lit road and whatnots. Analogically, if there'd be such a word, shadows can be represented as the shortcomings of our lives, and the sun-lit roads our successes. We should not dwell too much on these shadows, comforting as it may seem on their nature of shielding us from the scorching sun, it limits us only to one spot, and we won't be able to grow to the farthest reach of what we are capable of. Go out of that comfort zone. Bathe under the incessant source of life-giving rays of the sun. We are very much capable of anything, not everything though.


Darkness is always at the edge of light, and light at the edge of darkness. At the edge of love is apathy, at the edge of success are failures, at the edge of wishes is content, at the edge of passion is pity, at the edge of hope is helplessness. The edges of things in life always connects to another edge of life. Nothing ends if not beyond death! Live pleasantly on!

This day is beginning to look like below ordinary. If boredom could kill i would be the first casualty. And i think many will compete for the first person ever killed by boredom. The recurring rain-swelter-rain is making my head spin in confusion and headache. And i just don't understand the weather nowadays. Well, in the first place "weather" is described as a quick-changing phenomena. As is reported over and over again in news on television, the Philippines is being tormented by the despised El Niño. The phenomena where the never-ending scorch of the sun continually devastates the hopes of many of producing a lucrative supply of agriculture. Talk about helplessness. We humans think so highly of ourselves, but when nature starts to destroy what we humans are dependent to, we cannot do anything about it. What have we humans got compared to what nature already have? But then again, even though we do not have control over nature and its destructive, sometimes constructive path, we should go back in controlling what we can control: our lives!


30 minutes to go before the day of reckoning for lovers and for those who are feeling love. I'm pretty sure many are excited! I for one am. But what am i excited for? When one is excited over something, it means that he/she is looking forward to something. What are we anticipating this Valentine's day? To receive love? Why would one even expect to receive love when one could not even give it out? You see, the greatest gift we can ever give to every person in this world is love. Though we cannot love every bit of breathing, walking, sentient being on this tectonic plate-cursed earth, we can at least love those who we think is worthy of our love. Then again, everyone is worthy of love. Strangers, close friends, family, enemy, so on and so forth. They are all worthy to be loved by us. Consequently, we are also worthy ourselves of love by others. There is no human being walking on the 30% land is ever unworthy of love. It is the single best gift we can gift to the people around us. Indubitably, it can change lives. Sad enough though, we don't get love too often and as deserved.


The world will be celebrating the all-hailed Valentine's day in about 24 minutes and counting down. But what is really the essence of valentine's day? Is it the showing of love? The pride one "must" have in having someone special in one's life? Or is it the reveling over having someone to share your life with? What is the essence of valentine's day, really? What is?Valentine's day is a microcosm of life. It is a celebration for love, not just one type of love, but all of the types. But nowadays, the connotation tagged to this day has been slowly narrowing. Those who doesn't have anyone (i think it is bogus to think that we don't have anyone, we just have to open our eyes!), complain and grieves because of the lack of company. Valentine's day is becoming the day for lovers. Then again, nothing is wrong with that. We are all lovers: our family is our lover, our friends are our lovers, ourselves are our lovers. We have a plethora of loved ones, we just deny and deceive ourselves
that we don't.


Valentine's day is slowly losing its sense. It has become very materialistic, and yeah! It has become too narrow. Love is an unlimited emotion. Valentine's day has limited it. We have all the people that love us, and we turn a blind eye to them because as society dictates, they are not the people we should be celebrating valentine's day with. Who are we deceiving? Who do you expect should we celebrate our valentines with? Our special someone? We have limited relationships into mere boy-girl intimacy. Which is by the way not only insulting, but also verging on desperation. No one can blame anybody. We are biological creatures, and procreation is innate in us. But really! We have a myriad of relationships all around us, all we have to do is embrace them as relationships, and delimit them. We have our family, our friends, ourselves! We love them, don't we? Then if we do, then they are not exempted in our celebration. Let's celebrate it with them and go against conventionality. In the first place, convention is dynamic. We should be the catalysts for its change. And its change will be worthwhile, as the current position it is in is absurd.


Valentine's day may be losing its sense and is slowly narrowing, love on the other hand is still love as love was. It hasn't change a bit, if anything it has even grown. Love should not be celebrated and acoladed once a year! It is too broad and too wonderful for just a day. Even 365 days are insufficient. Imagine a world where each and everyone of us, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 31 days a month, 365 days a year, shows love, celebrate love, display our love to the people around us, what a joyous life it would be. Then again, it is ideal! I'm more clinging into what is real and attainable. But you see i am not limiting reality into something tangible, something empirical, or something scientifically grounded. Reality for me is anything, everything the mind can embrace. What i am ranting about is no exemption. Valentines day=nonsensical! Love=continuously wonderful.


If you may ask why i am criticizing and elaborating the nonsensicality of the modern time valentine's day? This is all thanks to s3 for giving a chance to introspect, think, and organize my thoughts. Think! Is love really that puny just being celebrated for one day? Valentine's day has limited it something which when placed in a box, destroys the box without even trying. Love is so much more than what is thought about, no thanks to V-day!


Love should be! And it is a should, celebrated every day of our insignificant lives. Everyday should be love day! =]