Farewell To You

I want you to know that I'm getting by. I want you to know that as time flies by, the wounds are now turning into scars. The first few days were hard and it was definitely a blow that caught me off guard. I was in an adamant refusal that it was the end of the road. To me, it felt like I was a kid again and I'm being deprived of something that I'm already used to having. I was so attached at what short and limited bond that we had that I was beginning to weave a basket full of dreams. It's funny how as I've looked back at what happened; I could now smile bitterly at my own foolishness. I was so busy looking up at the stars and too preoccupied with their beautiful promises that I forgot the stones at my feet. Please do not feel sorry for me. I've had enough of that for myself. It's true, I stumbled and fell; bruises and cuts bled and I can hardly say I'm okay back then. I was mad and frustrated not at you but at what you did. But I think that you should know that I do not blame you for what has transpired. I brought it upon myself without any inhibition and I didn't even care for precautionary measures.

It's been quite a while now; quite a span of time to allow recuperation. I wanted to ask you so many questions and I wanted to yell and nag but I could never bring myself to do such things; fearing that those might estrange us more. I never knew that I could be ever glad for the departing silence we both allow to further the long and distant gap between us. For in this dead air; I have understood quite a handful of ambiguities in life and for that, I could not thank you enough. Do not worry about me and go on; chase your dreams. I will be okay. What happened was just a setback that I haven't anticipated and from this, I have grown and learned a few things. It is still a long road for me and I think I can manage to find my way around.

This might be the last time that you will hear from me. Know that despite all the things said and done, I'm happy that I've had the chance to encounter someone like you. Do not get me wrong; I do not intend to end this with a bitter remark. In fact, I wanted this to be my final adieu to you. The one that we're both entitled to. There was a time when I so desperately seek out the reasons; your reasons as to why things has to end that way, but I failed to see that even now I'm still too weak to face the truth so, I'll be leaving things the way that I think it should be. Reasons are no longer as essential for whatever those could be; I do not think that in my current state, I have the ability to comprehend them. My reluctance to talk to you does not mean I don't care. I do. It's just that I still cannot battle my inner demons. I do not mean to offend you with what seem like an impersonal goodbye; much less a very public array of farewell. I'm sorry that my lack of brevity and courage has brought me down to this. You deserve a lot more. Sadly, I cannot give you that much. But for all that it was and for all that it's worth; for me, it felt real. To me, it was real. Goodbye.

Not Just For The Sake of Writing

I do not fancy being called a writer simply because I believe I am a novice at this craft. I may have written a mishmash of passing thoughts and a jumble of chronicled emotional outbursts but then again, those might not qualify me as a writer. And although there exist a contrast between being a writer and being a blogger somewhere along a fine line; it is however, not a pressing issue for me since I know that the distinction of both is something that I shouldn't be much paying attention to. For both allows the freedom of expression in ways that I see no difference at all. All I could ever precisely comprehend is that words are created base on the need to communicate. A lexicon, a jargon, layman's terms and highfalutin words; all of it generated from the need to deliver a message. A message that does not guarantee understanding and enlightenment for all but nonetheless, a message in itself.

In this world of chaotic and confusing misunderstanding and misinterpretation, words are my peaceful sanctuary; my little piece of heaven. They have become an integral part of my being and my most efficient way of making concrete ideas and tangible feelings. Writing has become my strongest voice in which I can never be dumbfounded. It has become an invaluable compendium of my reflections and realizations in this bizarre way of life. Most of all, writing is a good desolate friend that lets me share the ups and downs of living.

I should have done this before I provided my e-mail address and password to create a Blogspot account. That was a long time ago and I cannot recall why I haven't thought of this back then. Maybe it's the eagerness to start pouring my heart out through an abysmal slew of words or maybe the blabbermouth in me that hindered me to think about giving a forewarning to those who will be coming across this part of the World Wide Web. In the days that passed after the decision to put up my own egocentric online fib, I have written less and less given the demands of school and the struggles of keeping up with the pace of life that made me ignore my solitary companion; writing. It even came to a point where stagnation was crystal clear. And in that stagnant disregard, I lost touch with my inner voice.

Until recently, I have decided to resurrect my blog and seek refuge to the comfort that it once provided me. It felt awkward getting my reigns back and being in-charge again of my wild perspectives. But I'm glad for having to get by just fine. I do not plan to justify my freedom to use writing as my medium to convey and communicate. I'm not even sure if I'm writing for an audience or for posterity's sake or for the mere satisfaction of my need to rant. Hey, I’m not great at this, probably not even close to being fair. But in this eureka moment of mine, what is clear to me now amid my ever constant cluttered mind is that I will blabber about anything and everything. This is what I'm good at. I tittle-tattle and these are my boisterous thoughts.

Thoughts On Mother's Day

My most formidable foe these days is sloth basking in a glow of nothingness. I don't know why for the love of god I feel this obscure laziness these past few days making me stall on something I look forward in doing. Maybe it's the bummer in me saying I have an infinite supply of time to bother making an effort. And so for days, I've procrastinated and delayed my purpose. It's already 7:17 pm on my screen and I'm still uninspired. I've thought ahead of this but the blank, wasted days behind me deprived me of the right things to say. 

7:30 pm. I still have nothing on my mind. I'm getting frustrated now. I feel like I'm going to fail yet again this year. See, I've always wanted to write something about my mom. She may not be perfect but she's entirely the best at least in mine and my sibling's point of view and that should count. It's the only thing that should and other people's opinion of her and her parenting couldn't matter more. I wouldn't care less about how people see her. For me, she's the epitome of all things good. All moms are regardless of their mistakes, flaws and weaknesses. 

7:38 pm. Thank God I'm getting somewhere. I thought about having kids of my own someday. Little ones I could call my own but the trail begins and ends there. As to how I'm going to have kids? I'll think of ways. If no options are available, I'll improvise. Don't get me wrong. I'm not desperate. I'm not in the position to be but, I just don't see myself as a wife. A mom? Absolutely. A wife? I don't think so as of the moment. Why? Well, I don't think this is the time to discuss about it. Anyway, I'm not going to venture on that uncharted lands now. Maybe some other time will do. Perhaps by then I'm finally enlightened. Besides, the spotlight is on my mom and all the moms out there today. It's this time of the year again where prodigal sons and daughters like me remember how special and wonderful those women who braved life and death only for us to breathe and have the best that life could offer. 

8:09 pm. Wow. That previous paragraph took time. But at least I'm halfway there. Going back to my line of thought, I've seen how life is conceived from day one until that aggravating period of bringing forth life on earth. I mean bringing forth literally as I've been in a front row seat of excruciating labor pains and agonizing deliveries a number of times in the past. Not that I've been pregnant but my field of profession gave me VIP access during birthing and mind you; as much as it is amazing to see how life came out of another person's body, it isn't a very appetizing and appealing flick. Not just that. Let's not forget the 9 month-period of mood swings, food cravings, blues and weight gain. 

8:24 pm. No. Things do not end there for a mother. In fact, it's just the beginning of that extraordinary odyssey. You and I would probably not remember those sleepless nights where a wailing infant rattles an entire household because he's hungry or his diaper needs changing. It's also not in our memories how we steered to pull heartbreaking stunts and managed to break mom's favorite porcelain, create a mess out of her makeup and upset her because we just got bumps and bruises from reckless playing. Those times when mama wanted to buy that beautiful shoes or bag but wouldn't because her daughter wanted so much that dress at an unbelievably expensive boutique or that her son would need the extra cash for school would escape our notice too. What we probably would remember are those times when we argue with her just because she said we're too young to party, too immature to date, too messy in our rooms and too childish to earn their trust. Yeah. Those moments will surely be remembered specially those times when we got grounded and those when we got spanked out of our naughtiness and hardheadedness. Those times have been bad and hard on our part and we'd think mommy's being too nosy and too protective that she gets a hold of our freedom with vise grips. Little did we know how it actually hurts nanay too when she hears us talk back, break curfew rules and fall down hard from our mistakes that shouldn't have happened in the first place if only we've listened to her. 

8:45 pm. I have to end this now. It's getting too long and I'm running out of words. The whole point of this is, motherhood isn't an easy task. Others would agree with me on this specially those who've been there and done that. I am no expert and certainly I do not have a firsthand experience but, I would dare say that to be a mother, one needs to have and exert a herculean effort to go about the commitment. Yes. Motherhood is a lifetime commitment and a lasting responsibility. It isn't a benign and monotonous task. It's a conquest of great efforts and sacrifices. My mom's ways maybe esoteric and sometimes misunderstood but when the time comes and it's going to be my turn, I know things will unfold little by little for me and until then, I'll strive hard to be the daughter she's going to be proud of. 

9:05 pm. Seriously. I should end this before I choke on my tears. To you, mom and to all the mothers out there, thank you so much for the selfless and unrelenting love, patience and kindness. I salute you for the everyday sacrifices that you've made just so we could be the best and we could have the best. 

9:23 pm.

I love you Ma.

Quarter-life Ruminations

"Growing old is mandatory. Growing up is optional." 

-Cindy Gerard 

I woke up this morning and stared at the ceiling for the longest time. It's a habit I've developed over the years and a habit I just couldn't break. My mind is at its clearest at this time of the day allowing me to think of all sorts of things from random thoughts to nostalgic memories to list of things-to-do for the day. Today; however, was different. As I lay there on my bed with eyes wide open, I suddenly felt a wave of triteness out of nowhere and then like a rocket flying at the speed of light, it hit me. It's been two decades now, two decennia of sharp and blunt mementos of a life lived in flowing waters. Like a floating leaf, I have been going where the currents and tides take me. No compass, no maps, no directions or whatsoever. I'm not sure if this is a good thing or if this will lead me somewhere but as of now, it's just me and the winds and the waves cruising together. 

Oh boy. I'm getting old am I? And dependence is taking its toll on me. I've always thought of myself as someone who can stand the test of time; someone who can stand her ground. Alas! I had it all wrong. Notwithstanding this mask of denial, I have now realized that I have been complacent in relying unto others in almost everything that I do. Almost. Since human basic needs are granted by primitive instincts, these are the only close-ended questions I answer with free will. The rest? I can only say, “Ask them” or “It depends”. I abhor the fact that decisions have to be made in accordance to what others will think and feel about the specific matter. I despise how words are uttered in subtle variations as to not harm or hurt people even if it means covering the grave and harsh truths. I detest how special considerations are done so as to attain the approval of those you've considered the wise even if it means sacrificing your own principles, beliefs and happiness. 

Oh the frivolities of life can sometimes be very sarcastic. It's ironic how when I was young, I wanted to grow up and be an adult in no time to relish that strange kind of freedom and self actualization but now that I can already consider myself one, there is not a single day that I wish I could turn back time and savor the innocence of being a kid again. Time flies by so fast that it seems to me it was just yesterday when I made that silly wish of becoming a grown up in the soonest possible time. Be careful what you wish for. It might just come true. I guess this is the point where a genie would have said; "I hate to say this but, I told you so."

Everything is easy and carefree in the eyes of the young. It's something I wish could have highly regarded when I was kid instead of hurrying to grow old and grow up. Gone are the days of childhood, my childhood. Gone are the days of naïveté and playhouse games, of rhymes and fairy tale endings and it's upsetting how the world is very capable of corrupting the candor and the impeccable outlook of a person who was once a child. Someone should have warned me about how life gets so chaotic and complicated when you have come of age but unfortunately for me, nobody did. Ergo, I wasn't prepared to face the realities of life as I know it. And I continuously tread the waters one slow yet, phlegmatic step at a time for an agitated and hurried stride could send me drowning in the pool of man's selfish endeavors. 

I've grown old but I'm afraid that I am not yet ready to grow up. Something tells me that I still cannot carry the burdens of the responsibilities passed on to me. I fear that my lack of preparedness and hindsight will eventually be the cause of my downfall. I find the uptight and required maturity that comes with age further complicates a simple mathematical equation of 1+1 into an intricate x ² + (a+b)x + AB = (x + a)(x + b) and so why bother? I do not want to worry about the future as much as I wanted to enjoy the present and forget the past for learning from what has transpired could wait for another day. You can call it procrastination but I call it giving a rest from what seem to be a pandemonium and disarray way of life. And just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, I was shunned to this optimistic approach. There is no way for me to turn back now. It isn't scientifically possible. So, I guess my only option now is to go forth and live a life that is expected of me. Whatever it is.