A Look Back: 2001 (Con't.)

Last Sunday I went to Victory Church with Lei and Bey. The lecture was great. It was about prosperity, about the true meaning of 2 Corinthians 9:11. I’ve always prayed before for God to let me be a blessing to others just as He has always blessed me. And now more than ever, I see His hand having worked through every person in my life. To all those who have so kindly opened their hearts in helping me, thank you so much. And to the rest whom I am lending help to and trying to be a good factor in their lives, I hope I would be able to serve God’s purpose better and show each one of you how truly great God’s heart is.

God’s love is my light through the dark clouds… I hope to always have His face shining down on me… ABC… I welcome His blessing and prosperity in my life.

August 20, 2001 – Monday
Birthday.
Dad gave me this computer for my birthday. Thanks po. He also sent me eighteen red roses. Thanks very much.

My family on the father’s side and some on the mother side surprised me with tokens of kindness, food, etc. I felt their sincerity and was overwhelmed with gratitude. But I was not happy. I couldn’t feel happiness. I’ve succeeded in turning myself into an unfeeling entity. Now there’s nothing to feel. A gust of dust. A poignant speck.

Dad called and greeted me. I was…grateful.

I was talking to one of my cousins. He asked me if I was happy. I said I was. Then I averted my eyes. I shielded myself from being so easily read from the Achilles’ heel of my being. I guess life batters a spirit.

Weak, but soon the soul feeds on the pain. Of every trial that comes to meet its way. From pain, it grows. I told him that pain was just a state of mind. He paused and then slowly nodded.

‘He’ didn’t greet me. What I’ve lost is knowledge. Awareness. I think I’ve forgotten that when pain is inflicted, it should hurt. I am not merry by choice or by chance. I am devoid and complete at the same time. There is a future so ripe, ready to be taken by the reins. I see a fruitful future. A successful heirloom in the mind.

Life is life. It is always the same. To experience pain and delight in the truth that feeling is essential in distinguishing what is an illusion from what is real. But now, I still cannot feel.

August 23, 2001 – Thursday
It’s the usual night. I want more than what I’ve planned.
What is the truth in Nephilim?

September 3, 2001 – Monday
I’ve been busy lately, writing a story about a prophecy. It isn’t a vision although it seems like one. And it’s most absolutely not heresy because I do not bring dishonor on God’s name. There is a great ending to it. I think I can enlighten a lot of people through this work.

I was inspired by many brilliant works, one being The Famished Road. And lately, I’ve been reading the Bible. In just one night, I’ve become a changed person. I’ve read the most beautiful proverbs. The words touched my heart that I’ve gone straight into writing. I’ve found my way. The way to the Lord is the path I’ve been missing. I’m not a messenger. I do not have the conviction that I am a chosen instrument in His plans.

But in my heart, I know how much I love Him. And as human as I am, inevitably going through so many trials and making many mistakes in confusion, I’m still rewarded. Because He gave me life...

The most wonderful friends to make me feel complete…
The most agonizing pain to better appreciate my healing…
The most unpredictable family to make me feel welcomed in the most comfortable place in the world.

Now I see in the dark with eyes that were not blinded but merely closed by a long time of being distant.

Poet texted me the other day. He was really sweet and I’ve been missing him so much. I miss Enigma, too.

He has forgotten who I used to be in his life…
…Just when I remembered who I am.

September 9, 2001 – Sunday
How does it feel to work so hard and so long for something and suddenly lose it?

I’m wallowing in the guilt of my sin. I thought I’ve already built a foundation with my faith. But with on stupid decision, I’ve fallen into the pits. My heaving heart!

I’m weeping because I know I’ve disappointed Him. I’ve failed to do what is right. I deserve to be condemned. Why can I not let go of my past self, the past which I abhor so much. It is like acid to the stomach. I’ve seen the world and I’ve realized it is such a beautiful place. A place made more stunning by the people who live in it. Because of one root. One cause. God.

I’ve gazed at the earth and seen its life, its philosophy. The poetry that makes it graceful in solemnity. I’ve looked in the mirror and seen the person in it.

A person who has what he’s looking for but is a fool for continuing his search for it.
A person who does not deserve to be respected and honored because he disrespects the Lord and dishonors his faith.
A person who does not do what is right because he dwells in the pain of his wrong.
A person with no beauty because he does not see the beauty that follows sadness.
A person who wishes to fly but has always grazed his knees, falling because of failure to learn from mistakes.
A person who tells the most wonderful stories because his life has become too real to believe.
A person who belittle himself because he cannot see the great heart God gifted him with.
A person who has mourned about isolation because he cannot feel the others, isolated but coping, around him.
A person who does not deserve to live because he is too stupid to make life worthwhile.

How many more words shall I string together to summarize how undeserving I am of love and compassion, of truth and justice, of family and friends…? How long shall I roam the earth on calloused heels and battered hands to live for the cause of such wounds?

I grow weary of myself…of the hard work in making myself a better person. How many more spaces in the Lord’s heart shall I ask for since I’ve wasted all the chance to live in His core? How many more wrongs will it take to savor the fulfillment of one right? There are so many questions in my mind. All answered justly by my conscience.

But hope dies a little each day. And with each time, my heart dies the same way.

What is my worth?

How do I redeem myself?

September 12, 2001 – Wednesday
September 11 Entry:
Today is a sad day, not only for the Americans, but also for all those who are aware of the unjust and horrifying change in the human nature. Someone once said that man was naturally good. This is true until we cite our beliefs and discover disagreements. I’ve been watching the news today. And my heart felt as if it could not any more bleed enough for the innocent people who’ve lost their lives. The world was alarmed at the sight of the most powerful country being successfully penetrated by those who have ambitious dreams/misdirected beliefs. I’ve prayed, not only for those who’ve passed away, but for the safety of those still battling their way against death, for the brave who’ve sworn to make an endless effort in rescuing (be it specially-trained men or the kindly people who’ve helped so much by volunteering to be blood donors), for the world leaders to finally crush the most influential and destructive form of plague, for the people to take this tragedy as the beginning of awakening and unity. I believe the people who were behind the terrorists and the terrorists themselves have a worse plan and this is only the beginning. And I hope everyone would vow to stand up unyielding in the face of future fatalities and only become stronger and wiser until the end. There is no assurance that we would win unless we pray for the Lord to fight with us in eliminating a growing worldwide nuisance. For all of us who wish for world peace, we will stand firm until this battle is over. Only until then can we truly live again.

More
I was supposed to go with my Grandmother to my Grandfather’s grave but unfortunately I couldn’t leave Mom in her condition. I asked Lola to excuse me and she readily agreed but word reached me that she felt bad about us having postponed, especially me being absent.

Later
As I texted Dad for advice, he was supportive at first because he replied for the first few times. But suddenly, he texted me “Kayo nalang ng Lola mo mag-usap. Can I rest now?”

Sigh…One day I’ll fly away…Leave my world to yesterday.

September 16, 2001 – Sunday
It’s a nice day. I’ve finished my novel. I don’t think it’s a good novel but I think it’s a good try. Anyway, I think I’ll let Choco be the first to read it. She’ll be my critic.

September 17, 2001 – Sunday
K got through her labor! It’s a healthy baby boy! His name is Gian Clarke Raphael. Aunt D thought of the name Gian while I contributed Clarke (variation of Clark which of course is Superman) and Raphael (one of the Archangels).

September 18, 2001 – Tuesday
I feel empty again. Once more I have broken my promise. I do not feel anything… I just feel barren. I feel alone. The Lord hasn’t left me. My sin has made me so shameful that I have turned my back against Him. And after so many familiar times, I’ve regretted afterwards. I wish I were a better person. One who knows how to keep promises and perform what’s been vowed to be done. But I’m not as strong as I thought I would be. I am weak…a coward…instead of the lionheart I’ve promised I’d try to be. Man has become very understanding. To the point that he excuses the smallest faults as something that simply passes by. As something that could easily be forgotten and vowed to be never done again.

But it isn’t the same when it happens again. And again. And again. And again. Until finally, he realizes he’s become part of the sin and the sin has become the person in him.

I’m not obsessed in religion. I just want to know the right path to follow so that I would serve my purpose in being born. I want to make the Lord proud of having created me.

Like a father proud of his daughter. But I was wrong. The only thing I’ve made Him feel for me is shame.

I wish I could ask for forgiveness and be forgiven. But I am not made of a very strong spirit. I am still in the process of honing my spirit so that when an opportunity to do wrong comes, I’d be able to laugh in its face and turn away. If I for reprieve now, it will happen again sooner or later. I want to make this promise an everlasting vow. An unbreakable reminder that some men might do things that please the Lord for the purpose of the salvation He brings…

But my main reason is to simply make my Father proud with my love for Him.

How do I love? If I am a person who will always strive to be right, why do I have so many questions?

Is it right to ask many questions? Or right to have many conclusions?

Someday, the world will understand that I’m not crazy. I’m just being real. Only God knows.

September 23, 2001 – Sunday
I just realized that God is everywhere and IS in everyone. I think it’s time that I change. Sometimes I’ve stopped believing and trusting people…because they always turn out to be fooling me all the time. But I guess there’s a reason for everything; same as there’s a reason for every dark cloud and enlightenment. I was texting Beautiful Clouds awhile ago. And she said that WB has already reserved tickets for herself, ‘him’ and Signorina. What I’m afraid of showing is the fact that I’m not over him. I don’t know if she knows. I don’t see my future. I only see what’s for today and for the next day. But I can’t see as far as weeks, months, years.

Maybe I really don’t have a future. That’s why I’m doing all I can to leave a legacy.

So that even if I die early, people won’t forget me easily.

My only wish is not to die a violent death.

A Look Back: 2001 (Con’t.)

11AM. Mom staring into nothingness. My fierce heart cold and empty. Enzo bright and bouncy as usual. Love elusive and unpredictable. The battle to be financially well still ongoing.

Certain things in my life took place without me even planning them. Sometimes I think I might have regrets in the future. But how can I when this is a journey, like every other journey I have been on. It’s funny how when I’m going through something and need people around to hang on to, they end up being even more depressed than I am. And at the end of the day, I end up being the one to cheer them.

It’s tiring to be so strong all the time. Sometimes I just need someone to depend on.

July 20, 2001 – Friday
As I slowly watched the moon’s face turn pale, the wind bringing the dark clouds to caress her, I was more disturbed than at peace. There is no tranquility where nightmares lie, ready to engulf me as soon as I weaken and yield. There is stillness that breaks and loves the wicked…who are plagued by their guilt and endless transition into wildflowers of an all-too-soon morning. The more tears form in my tormented soul, the more he is made ubiquitous.

Clinging to hope is impossible when I still feel the warmth of his smile, his radiant eyes that laughed with the sun, the dewdrops trickle and there is but one reality in the morning. Another day has passed. I have not found him,

Wherever I look, I see. His spirit makes up for the soul that everything lacks. Then I am in a trance, mesmerized. A silent voice pierces the night, sweet and gentle, passionate and treacherous.

He wounds the wounded. No mercy for those who are awake but continue to dream.
And as my fate turns in its axis, happening once, twice, thrice…

I will only remember how soft melodies change the heart…

How gripping fire and molten chill…
How dust evolves in winterkills…
How dances reel and swift embrace…
How parting chance the coldly graves.

July 21, 2001 – Saturday
Remembering the first night of when I thought the world was a safe place…same night I was stolen without a trace.

Distance proves both wise and dumb. For every moment that we are apart, memories lead me to succumb. Moments, standing in weeping rain chooses, not one, but all in exchange for pain. To gain the heart I lost, a babe in swaddles of hail. Laughing at nothing funny, pray. We are but a crumbling troop. No one in his right state can force himself to become someone different and same. My weight is burrowed in the depths of your thoughts. Where we share only one dream, time flowing by stones in empty streams. Hiding from nothing shameful or baseless, but just one barricade between two earths…two seeming births…

The birth of a newness…of an empty start.
The birth of a familiarity…of a trampled heart.

July 24, 2001 – Tuesday
I went to Glorietta to meet Poet. I ditched my story about love and life. I have neither.

Push forward, Shai. Don’t look back. You’ll only fall apart.
And find so many blank faces.
…All of them, yours.
And find so many twisted souls.
…All you have met.
And find so many sharp minds.
…All you have honed.
And find a badly broken heart.
…All that broke it.

July 25, 2001 – Wednesday
I can’t believe my relatives’ growing interest in me. Not because they think I have great potential or because they think I am a good person. Simply because they say I speak good English. What standards are there to be worthy of love…? It’s not worth it.

July 26, 2001 – Thursday
I went to the Mall and bought Ben Okri’s The Famished Road. I like the book. It’s enigmatic. It’s sort of the world everyone’s living in. Only not everyone’s aware. It’s touching a part of me that’s always been so lonely.

Months ago, John was telling about this story. I’m glad I bought it. Hmm. But it wasn’t easy because I spent an entire hour trying to decide which book seemed worthwhile. I don’t exactly trust book reviews or rely on flashy covers and neat illustrations.

It was a simply hunch. I think I have a good story in mind. I’m going to write it down.

July 29, 2001 – Sunday
I’m hurt because I made an unwise decision. But even if it is my own fault that something bad happened, I’m standing my ground. I don’t have any regrets. I wanted some time alone with numbness. I’m just disappointed.

A friend did something to me. It’s very uncomfortable to talk about nevertheless I will say it because I must confront it with as much bravery as I can. All of us were drinking and although some of them were already getting tipsy, my senses were sharp and I was aware the entire time. The friend tried to do something. I was frightened and worse, I didn’t confront my fear right away because I was afraid that my voicing out would lead to further trouble.

I moved, pretending to have just woken up and he immediately stopped. Then the rest of the group stirred, waking up as well. I rushed to the restroom and I cried. When I came out, I asked Poet to accompany me to the place where Mama would pick me up. Then I told him along the way what had happened.

The spirit cannot bear the truth. I trusted a friend, I loved a friend as I would a brother and I’ve been badly mistaken.

He apologized and I forgave because I’m sure that’s what the Lord would want me to do. Although things will never be the same again, I trust his word enough to try. Try to forgive. And hopefully, with the Lord’s help, forget.

August 1, 2001 – Wednesday
I tried to look beyond the incessant pain. And I failed to see anything.
Today is August 1st.
The start of my month.

Soon.

August 4, 2001 – Saturday
I’ve just finished reading Ben Okri’s The Famished Road. It’s a very inspirational book. August 4. A few days and I will celebrate my eighteenth birthday. I half want to spend it amidst friends. I half want to spend it alone on hills and by lakes.

We might live today and die in continuance. But one can never truly say if the alignment of chapters is correct.

Where we go is how the brave live.

I no longer feel alone.

A Look Back: 2001 (Con't.)

June 16, 2001 – Saturday

I went to Sunshine Mall with my cousins. I don’t have hatred during moments temptation pushes me to feeling it. I’m very lonely. The loneliness is breaking me. I cannot escape it because it always comes. Whether I surpass the melancholy tomorrow, it is useless. Everything will happen again. Unhappiness drowns me and instead of memories uplifting me, they push me deeper that I waddle through the bitter taste of gleaming concealed teardrops.

Everything around me is turning. I’m the only that’s still.

Like time when it stood still as I had a glimpse of the most heartwarming smile. Have you ever embraced the clinging breeze? It was like that. I was aware of the gentle wind coming. My eyes proved they were real, humiliating my doubting mind. I reached out and my arms closed around nothingness, humiliating my eyes.My mind conquered the illusion of loving someone who was as sporadic as the wind.


June 20, 2001 – Wednesday

I was supposed to go to BF today. To see the people who continue to inspire me. Instead, I’m sick with the flu. Sigh.

Aunt L wrote me a letter. She was very supportive. She gives the impression that she’s very open-minded. I feel grateful for the moral support she gives me. Pretty soon, we’ll finally be able to see her. Mom’s been so excited to see her. So excited that she’s even giving our share of the stuff Aunt L sent us.

I’ve been experiencing a weird feeling. I think it’s because I’m sick. The pain. A steady throbbing in my temples. The churning fluids of my body flowing in rhythm with the continuous drops of the rain...

June 21, 2001 – Thursday

“In your eyes, I can see my dreams’ reflections.

In your eyes, found the answers to my questions.

In your eyes, I can see the reason why our love’s alive.

In your eyes…we’ve drifted safely back to shore. And I think I’ve finally learned to love you more.”

June 22, 2001 – Friday

Sometimes I feel a certain fear inside me. I am not afraid of myself. I’m only afraid that I might not live up to the expectations my loved-ones have for me.

June 30, 2001 – Saturday

I find it really ironic that I wrote about my fear of failing people and find Dickens’ novel Great Expectations, a few days after. It is a bewitching work of art and thought I should always have a dictionary beside me, I can relate to the general mood of the story.

Furthermore, I have realized that I do not have the makings of a great writer. I cannot, in my mind’s eye, picture a place or a person vividly like Charles Dickens. Being seventeen years old, I am likened to the chameleon because I adapt the style of the writer whose work I currently read.

In a while, Mom and I would be sleeping on our sleeping bag spread out on the floor while Aunt D and her daughters would be sleeping on a straw mat atop newspapers, painstakingly stapled together by Mom. We don’t have anything else to contribute. We’re destitute ourselves.

I cannot sleep at all. No matter how tired I may be, my mind refuses to yield.

Morpheus, I scorn you! How you give them sleep, those who should not stop thinking…and how you show the world in its most unimaginable form at night to me, a commoner…

Dear God above, please let me cease to find him everywhere. Where my broken heart lies, his ghost pays homage. Ah, sadness would fill my heart if only my heart had remained and had not been stolen.

Ate N texted me yesterday. She said she saw Ate O and Ate L in Glo. They’ve arrived from Egypt.

Later…

The house of my Grandmother, which we currently live in, is now nearly empty. Thanks to my Uncle F, Aunt D’s husband. He thought it was a just punishment for Aunt D, K and Ate A to strip the house of their things, furniture and appliances. I am devastated that my cousin is experiencing such a hard time when she should be enjoying her young life. She endlessly pounded her stomach awhile ago, the baby near extinguished, him ignorant of the fact that the hands that beat upon him are those of his own bearer.

Isn’t it ironic? Always the innocent should suffer.

And they welcome suffering as if nothing else would make them merrier.

July 3, 2001 – Tuesday

Sleep fails to come. When my ears come in harmony with the ticking of the clock above my head…I start to tremble.

He is my Estella.

July 7, 2001 – Saturday

I’ve just finished reading Great Expectations. How to describe it…

I try to comprehend but all I have come to realize is how little I know and how much I feel. John Irving was right about the accomplishment of the novel. It is able to move readers yet even this is an understatement.

The book’s aim was not to challenge the readers’ logic but more of to appear as an ethereal painting. The colours are the sentiments.

I feel as if I had been Pip all throughout his life. That I, too, became eternally haunted by Estella. I feel as though I can never transcend the mediocrity of my mind’s expression. The more I try to find the road to enlightenment, the more I realize I am living an ephemeral life.

As long as the conscience is alive and the wit sharp…the end is a long way off.

I cannot fade and die. Death is slow and agonizing...

…And soon common to me like a long-awaited friend.

Night is aberration.

He humiliates me with a needless display of power only to prove that I cannot sleep until he wills me to.

July 11, 2001 – Wednesday

I went to Camp Crame with Lola, Tita V and Mom. I kept trying to make them laugh and they seemed to enjoy my stunts. Everything’s filed with the PVAO…except they need certification for the old documents. The guy at the desk was a real pain in the ass.

Good thing the other attorney was more polite. He was sort of impressed by my card. Geez. The next time I go there, I’ll bring G with me. He’ll probably faint.

July 16, 2001 – Monday

The events last night were incredible. Two weeks ago, Uncle F took K and Ate A to live with him at his house. He said he is better suited to take care of them and give them a better future compared to what they’ve come to under Aunt D’s care.

Yesterday, K appeared out of nowhere, wailing, “Mama!”

Her face was wet with tears. She was trembling and was hanging on to Aunt D as if her life depended on it. Soon as she calmed down, she started telling us about the ordeal she went through. She had a bruise on her upper lip, saying that it was because Uncle F shoved her on the table. According to her, he even pointed a knife. She escaped out of fear and determination to warn her sister that Uncle F swore that if they met, he’d kill her sister. All because Ate A asked Uncle F is she could leave for a while with a friend to attend a certain function and he agreed but since she didn’t return, even on the following day, he became angry.

Kuya C, and I texted since he still refuses to help them with expenses. I think it’s something he should work out on his own with his family because he seemed resolved to take a break from helping them.

Anyway I went to Las Pinas and spent time with the posse. After that, Beautiful Clouds was kind enough to let me spend the night at her house. I only wish we had more time to talk and bond. She had class the following day.

I didn’t even get to talk to Poet.

I’ve made a list of the books I’ve read so far.

Jurassic Park, Eaters of the Dead           = Michael Crichton

Little Women, Little Men                         = Louisa May Alcott

Dracula                                                 = Bram Stoker

Great Expectations, David Copperfield     = Charles Dickens

The Wanderer                                        = Fritz Lieber

Wuthering Heights                                 = Emily Bronte

20,000 Leagues Under the Sea               = Jules Verne

July 19, 2001 – Thursday

I rushed Mom yesterday to the hospital. She has a stone in her kidney. We thought she didn’t have any stones anymore. Hopefully, since the best medications are too costly, we’ll just crush it with medicine instead of the recommended shockwave. I can’t stop worrying about her. All I can do to help her is pray for the Lord to intervene.

Surprise.

Contemplation.

A few months back, there was a need to find reasons to go on.

Little by little, I did. I left work, taking with me more treasures than I could have hoped to walk away with. God provides the best things in life without hesitation.

A family has welcomed me better than I could have expected. Days of laughter, and shared meals. Of stories in the past and future aspirations. Invitations to return, introductions to extended family, teaching class, more invitations to return by New Year's Day and to participate in a summer workshop...I'm overwhelmed with happiness. Though doubts flicker at the back of my mind, pursuing one's happiness involves consciously eliminating doubts and trusting God would make things work above all.

To God be the glory.

A Look Back: 2001 (Con't.)

I'm still up though, blogging, when I'm supposed to be creating 20 paragraphs, each with its own set of answers on what the main idea/topic of each paragraph is. I'm still up, blogging, when I should be resting for an early day tomorrow. Am I gypsy? A Bohemian? I feel restless... I just want to keep writing...

...

May 7, 2001 - Monday
There are so many things I’ve realized. Ever noticed how the personalities of cars can be read through their headlights? Not the brightness of the beam but by the position of the lights. That’s why some cars look stupid, others sexy, others smart and others cute. Then when you look at their rear lights during heavy traffic at night, they look like they all share a wicked conspiracy...like they exist in a twilight zone of their own.

Because their lights all look like red gleaming eyes. Be they smart, sexy, funny...they all look like they’re plain mad.

Or maybe I’m mad.

I’ve been noticing the slightest thing of no importance.

Just the other day, I've given Signorina the interpretation about a certain dream she had. I'm grateful that she trusted me. Someone once quoted Jock for saying I give good dream interpretations. It marvels me to find out they recognize me as being good at something.

We’re still here in 402, at Aunt D’s place sharing it with her two daughters. And already, we're not welcome. Imagine. We didn’t even last a week. I don’t care if we end up on the streets. What’s important is we find some peace of mind. I need space for venting. I need to find some kind of sanctuary within the walls of my imagination. Probably the lack of it is the reason why I’m completely out of coordination. In music, I find solace.

‘Send someone to love me. I need to rest in arms. Keep me safe from harm in the pouring rain. Give me endless summer. Lord, I feel the cold. Feel I’m getting old...before my time. Coz my soul...feels the shame. I will grow through this pain. Lord, I’m doing all I can...to be a better man.’

May 9, 2001 - Wednesday
Confirmation day today at UST. I didn’t get Communication Arts.    Sir Aldryn hired Ex's GF for soprano in our ‘Wedding-Singers’ group. The world changes every minute. It rained while I was in a cab with Mom awhile ago. We came from Ate N’s and Kuya J’s place. They invited us over. Aunt J accompanied us. The lampposts were towering over us, as their light seemed a skyway for aircrafts. Glowing in the rain, there was something serene about them. And when the rain started pouring harder...the shadow the drops caused was like a gentle flowing waterfall upon the cab’s windows. Truly captivating.

Smoky-colored streets with filthy spit-covered pavements. The pungent odor of urine upon the walls of the corridor. Bits of wrappers and plastic littered all over the once-clean crossway. But to others, they are the dignified design of ages past. They are proof that plastic does not decompose. A reminder of the careless mistakes of their origin.

This is Tenement.

What’s the purpose of sacrifice? Is its cause always selfless? Love grows over time if the will is overpowered by feeling. True, sometimes we have to really let go of all feeling and take matters objectively. But when fiery passion gets ahold of us and a persistent force keeps pounding us what we feel is the right thing to do, the conscience cannot bear the weight of the burden. And we leap, oblivious of the fall.

Expression is not wit. It’s ventilation. The story goes on...

Oh. I almost forgot. I called him up. And for one flitting moment, nothing else in the whole world mattered.

May 10, 2001 - Thursday
Ate A, K and I went to a nearby mall. Sunshine Mall. It seemed okay. I’ve just finished watching Jackie Chan’s movie. The stunts were really good.

Lord knows I’m lonely. And when I tell someone that I am, their initial reaction would be to give me advices. It’s really not what I need...

I just need someone willing to share the truth with me...willing to share the truth that loneliness brings a person to the point that he forgets he’s alive and that there’s supposed to be a certain direction that he should be following in life.

From there I already gain comfort. At least I know someone has a vague idea of what I’m going through.

May 12, 2001 - Saturday
Last night was a very overwhelming one. Everyone was so nice and they were all happy...And I spent the night wondering. As choking gasping noises merge with the swirling mist and fog, one man’s mind floats through miles of endless longing. Only to find arms embracing no one. Doe-eyed  texted him and asked him where he was. He said he was in Batangas. Realizations.

One man’s misery is another man’s joke. Alcohol can take you to a time travel. The soft ringing laughter caresses your battered soul. The more we disregard simplicity, the more logical it becomes. Sometimes I feel as though I’m being robbed of my personality. When good friends have things in common, things that bring them together, they should also have differences that set them apart.

It’s unfair to die before the end. It’s unfair to feel the spirit deteriorate before the body decays.

Wisps of woven windstrings caress the back of my mind where perception lies still. The rest is in a coma.

May 13, 2001 - Sunday
Everything around me is different. Like the world I was born in suddenly vanished and all that’s left is a big pile of dump. I’m slowly returning to my cold self. Like Voldemort. Empty. Not really evil...Just cold.

They complain about mistreatment. Mistrust brings havoc. This is preliminary hell. Sure enough, I don’t feel any lighter. Nobody owns me. I was made without the assurance that I could be owned, mind, soul and heart. Possession is the one thing that is impossible. The only thing that can really bind is devotion.

My heart is alive. Beating. But encased in a thick layer of ice, unyielding to the warmth normality brings. Because such normality...in this place...does not exist.

May 19, 2001 - Saturday
Days have passed. I haven’t had the strength to write what happened. Something very uncanny happened the other day. I was strumming LET IT BE on my guitar as I tried to recall the things I’ve done lately. I glanced at the clock and realized it was 2PM. Today was May 17. And then it struck me! I was supposed to enroll around 11AM!

When I asked my Mom, she sort of had this look, which translated simply to, good thing you forgot because unfortunately, we don’t have enough money for your enrollment, dear.

Mom suggested I attend Theatre School while I wait. And enroll in that with what? Sigh.

I didn’t panic. God meant for it to happen. Now I have time to make poems, novels, etc.

May 23, 2001 - Wednesday
I just woke up, ignorant of the time. I’ve made up my mind to wake up late. But I know it’s still early. The cold is slicing my bones and I’m aching all over.

Yesterday, we went to Camp Crame to process the educational benefit I could use from my Grandfather’s benefits from the war. I’m finally going to school through the use of benefits. I just don’t know when I will start. But all the same, I’ll continue to learn from the best and wisest teacher.

Experience.

Random Thoughts:

You Must Love Me        Tim Rice/Andrew Lloyd Webber

Where do we go from here?
This isn’t where we intend it to be
We had it all...you believed in me...I believed in you.
Certainties disappear...
What do we do for our dream to survive?
How do we keep all our passions alive as we used to do?
Deep in my heart, I’m concealing things that I’m longing to say...
Scared to confess what I’m feeling...
Frightened you’d slip away...
You must love me...you must love me...
Why are you at my side?
How can I be any use to you now?
Give me a chance and I’ll let you see how...
...Nothing has changed.
Deep in my heart, I’m concealing things that I’m longing to say...
Scared to confess what I’m feeling...
Frightened you’d slip away...
You must love me...you must love me...
You must...love me.

Oh, and we were robbed of 3 boxes. It was piled outside the flat when we noticed the pile was kind of lopsided. It paved the way for Aunt D and her kids to make up with Mom.

God works in mysterious ways.

May 24, 2001 - Thursday
I write better during the evening. Something in the stillness motivates me. Kisses empty but real, serenading the sweet moonlight into hiding. Swirling haze unveils the secrets only the ground holds, the blood that gushed through it told. Love comes as a mystery to all. Prevents one from conquer. Life is the sun’s overpowering beauty no one can behold. No one can see but the blind. Friend to all but never to yield for love. Never to be happy with
love. It is travesty so sweet and passion so pure. Raw hatred runs through the mind of one who’s been brave, but in finding the one, failed. Leaving the dancer alone with the enchantment of the night...the music of the twilight...the soft weeping of the moon with two faces. No wonder dreaming is a popular pastime. Because each is a king of his own realm, the ruler of his destiny. Change the world.

May 25, 2001 - Friday
Aunt D and Mom have really made up. Everything is okay again. Hopefully, it stays this way for the longest possible time before Mom gets picked on by the family again.

Random Thoughts
Depth. They said I had so much depth. Sometimes I even wonder if I do exist. In some twisted way, people like me exist. Someday, I’ll prove through expression...I not only exist. I am alive in my existence.

May 26, 2001 - Saturday
We sang at the San Agustin Church. It was a pretty good. And we earned some stash for it. So I bought food for Mom and the family. And I bought a book on how to speak Chinese.

May 27, 2001 - Sunday
This is the real world we’re living in. On the way to Intramuros, a street child tapped the window of the cab we were riding in. Leaning on the glass, I noticed that he was only around five or six years old. He was pleading. A
thousand thoughts occurred through my mind as I thought of what I would’ve done if only I had a little more than the cab fare.

“Sige na, te…palimos po. Pangkain lang po…”

There was a growing lump in my throat as I had the urge to get him off the street and help him live his life that way he’s supposed to be living. Playing. Eating. Studying. Living.

Someday I will have the chance to get all the children off the streets.

By the way, she's now in Egypt. Mom’s been devastated.

May 28, 2001 - Monday
I once read somewhere by the road I always travel on...

‘Ambition never comes to an end.’

May 29, 2001 - Tuesday
I said farewell to Embryo. For the time being. It just gets more and more difficult everyday to hear all those joyous stories and never being able to tell one of my own.

Submission of a Single Mom

I've repeatedly tried to put this off, always rationalizing that the day's full of activities ahead to allot even a few minutes time to blog on what been lingering on my mind.

They say, God is Word. I've practiced this since I encountered it July of this year (2010, in case you're reading this years after). When you think about God being the Word, you realize instantly that what you say is as good as done. Because God IS the word. It's the simplest act of love and faith. It's been what I've applied on my work and affected what I've achieved of my last quarterly EDP score, on my aspirations of being a freelance writer and choreographer, and being a single mother, able to successfully rear a child to become a man after God's own heart.

Yet sometimes, there are certain truths that come to life and no matter how hard we try to ignore them, they are begging to be acknowledged. So I did. With my mind, but not with my lips. I could agree that things were happening that were not under my control, but I never admitted them out loud.

Well, this entry is dedicated to that attempt. Foolish or brave in its core, I'm uncertain. All I know is that this is acknowledgment for what simply is.

Last Sunday, I went to Victory Church. The enemy definitely made himself palpable from Sunday morning up until I successfully finished the service. I got up, waited for my cousin and her boyfriend to wake up, and when they did, I told them I was going to Victory. You're probably thinking, what's so special about that idea? It's as common as people going to church every Sunday. Well, it was extraordinary. Because for the longest time since I left my previous job, I have neglected going to any church, or temple, or any places of worship. It was not because I defied Him. I didn't go because I was ashamed.

So many ups and downs have happened, and He's been true to His word, that He's the Living God. And yet here I was, still feeling lost and small and insignificant in the great currents of life. I found small pieces of happiness and I pursued them, if it means saving my life, extending it a bit more to have a better grasp at things. I would travel for hours, looking for love and acceptance, for a world outside my world that might see me differently, and the worst part of it is, He's been with me the entire time. It only me who's neglected to converse again with Him.

So my cousin and her boyfriend said they couldn't go since they already attended service the day before. That meant I had to go alone. I didn't mind. I was determined. I got ready and rode the jeep without confirming the destination it's bound for. When it stopped in front of SM Bacoor instead of going straight to Zapote, I realized I definitely had a challenger up in my face. So I got off the jeep. And decided to walk to Victory, a good 30 minutes away, and offer the exercise as a simple act of love for Him.

I passed by so many people, so many vehicles, street children who knew ten times as many foul words as the average adult, beggars whose faces were gaunt with hunger, people who seemed covered in coal dust speaking with entities that couldn't be seen, homeless women carrying their infants in tattered clothes...and I wept inwardly. These people are of my own race. I am limited by my own status from helping them. And yet in their eyes, such strong resolve to continue. While here I was, teetering dangerously between life and death with every breath I take.

Victory soon appeared in front of me. I entered, feeling like a man having come from a desert that did not have an oasis, parched for God's word. I listened and was distracted every now and then, but the service was beautiful, the worship ten times as fulfilling for my personal need to praise and thank Him.

I did it. I reached Victory.

...

Peachy if the story ended there.

But it goes on. Being a jobless, single mom with mountains of challenges to overcome on her own on top of trying to constantly put food on the table is no easy task. There's also mom to support. Hunger elongates the face but sharpens the senses. It shatters fantasies and makes you equipped to face life's greatest adversaries. God created this world, rich and teeming with resources, but we've put such a deranged value on everything that only the affluent can truly enjoy the "best" things in life. Or at least the "best man-made" things in life.

I'm a mother of two. My son, and my mom. I don't always have both love and money. But at the end of the day, I will always have faith. Just like what a good friend said once, "We've lived this long, Shai. There must be a reason we've lived this long." I can't trust myself to always make the best decisions or to come out on top. But I always will trust Him, the one who's truly in charge.

Friends of mine who have three children, who are separated, who have been physically, emotionally and psychologically abused, who are mothers trying to struggle along to provide the best kind of life for their young ones...we all are in the same circle. And they have earned my respect tenfold than some friends who have unfairly criticized them. A woman's strength might every now and then falter, but the One hand who made us all never will. And I have faith, that if He is strong for a young woman who is a responsibility all to herself, then He must be much stronger for women like us, with children formed out of love who deserve only the best in life, who would be raised to become men and women worthy of inheriting the earth as God's gift to their parents, and their parents before them.

So I acknowledge this entry as a confirmation. I confirm that I am submitting myself entirely to God's plans. I rest my worries and when they come again upon sunrise, I will fight all 1440 minutes to rest then once more.

In hope and faith and love, for my favorite passage below.

"For your Maker is your husband-the Lord Almighty is his name-the Holy One of Israel is your Redeemer; He is called God of all the earth. The Lord will call you back, as if you were a wife deserted and distressed in spirit-a wife who married young, only to be rejected,' says your God. For a brief moment I abandoned you. But with deep compassion I will bring you back. In a surge of anger, I hid my face from you for a moment, but with everlasting kindness I will have compassion on you,' says the Lord the Redeemer. To me this is like the days of Noah, when I swore that the waters of Noah would never again cover the earth. So now I have sworn not to be angry with you, never to rebuke you again. Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed, yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken nor my covenant of peace be removed,' says the Lord, who has compassion on you."

- Isaiah 54: 5-10

A Look Back: 2001 (Con't)

Ugh. The music from the beerhouse is relentless.


...
...

April 7, 2001 - Saturday
I’ve just finished having my friends’ films developed. I have about a hundred photos of Embryo. Can’t wait to make the scrapbook. I'm reminiscing February 14, 2001. I remember everyone was stressed that day. We were all nervous because we all wanted to make a difference... But as everything slowly fell into place, we knew we were really doing something worth our sweat, blood and tears. I miss everyone... 

 

April 10, 2001 - Tuesday 

I haven’t been myself lately. I honestly admit that the last few days of writing in my journal, my mind was wandering elsewhere. The moon’s been eerie lately. It’s more red than yellow. Empty sky. Devoid of both stars and clouds. Reckon it’s also one of the reasons why I’ve been feeling empty as well. I went to the Seton Notes office because we had a meeting. A friend called him. He’s been there all this time, saying he’s going to Burma next week. Hmmm.

Random Thoughts
I wasn't feeling anything awhile ago. But now, familiar pain is stabbing my heart. I want to escape from the stress. Confusion. To ponder on seclusion... What is it about me that's so difficult to love? I’m embracing the pain because when I’ve absorbed all of it, I’d be too numb to feel the hurting.
   
Loneliness. Darkness. Numbing pain. Tears. Silence. Candle. Zephyr. Night. Eyes that speak. Broken. Tattered Soul. Passion. Love. Searching. Lost. Fire. Death. Immortality.

Sometimes I think it’s better to love you from afar. Then I would be able to protect you from the pain that I’m capable of inflicting.

April 11, 2001 - Wednesday
We went to Lola’s place today at Cavite. I love the No Me Ames video.

April 13, 2001 - Friday
I am here with Mom and Mama at Tito Doc's place. Everything is well except that I have colds. I watched some movies like They Nest, Rush Hour, Gorgeous, Hollow Man, etc.

My Ex texted me yesterday and it made me feel worse. I sent him this text message. 

‘If you’re wondering why I’m grouchy, it’s because I’m going through the hardest time of my life right now. And I just came to realize that friends are not real friends until they prove they are friends when it really counts.’ I asked Choco if it was too harsh and she said that it was just right, at least he’s aware of how I feel. Then she sent me this text message.

‘Don’t worry, we love you and let that be enuf.’

Her message was short but it really hit home. I don’t know if I can ever thank them, Embryology, enough for their loyalty and friendship. I was lost and now, am found.

April 14, 2001 - Saturday
Today was a particularly freaky day. I woke up around 8:30 AM, feeling better than I had been feeling for the past few days. The medicine did its job. My mom is still in agony. Her kidney has been bothering her a lot lately. And she’s been freaking me out by saying all kinds of last wishes like she wants to be cremated, no 40 days, no 9 days. She said she doesn’t want large wreaths or whatever adorning her. She said she wouldn’t be able to appreciate them anymore. She told me to be strong and to handle things with an iron heart and that she puts everything in my hands. It was very unnerving. I don’t think she should say things like that because I know she’s going to be fine. She doesn’t want me to wear black and doesn’t want me to cry. She said I should be happy when she passes away because by then her woes are all over. Sigh.

April 15, 2001 - Sunday
We’ve just returned from Tito Doc's place at Sta. Mesa and now at Kuya's place at Las Piñas. I’m feeling a lot better. I've just received Choco's e-mail. JM’s left for the States. I’ve also finished plotting the layout for the scrapbook. Watching Jesus Christ Superstar. Great music! Powerful story!

Someday, I’d be able to collect all the Jackie Chan movies. And all the Broadway soundtracks. And all the books I’ve been longing to read.

April 17, 2001 - Tuesday
I’ve received the worst news last night. I'm on a waiting list for Communication Arts since all the slots have been taken up. So I had to shift to Behavioral Science, which I don’t have any interest in. Does this mean that I’ll stop for a while and resume when the right time comes? What is God’s plan...?

April 18, 2001 - Wednesday
I went to SM today with Choco. We watched Sweet November. The movie was good and so were Keanu’s lines but his facial expression wasn't able to convince me about how the character felt. I’m very confused. I have to make the right choice at this crucial time in my life. It’s going to be very difficult because I’m choosing between taking a course I’m not fit for or waiting around for the next opportunity to take the course I know I can be good at. I wish I could attend special classes in the meantime.

What makes choosing difficult is the fact that we don’t really know what the end will be like. I don’t want to live these years of my life and finally in the future, look back and realize that I’ve made a wrong turn somewhere. I don’t want to live my life in regret. I do hope that God will see me through. I hope He’ll give some sign as to where I can better serve my purpose in accordance with His plan.

April 19, 2001 - Thursday
10:12 PM
I’m alone in the room, thinking of inspiring words to write in the scrapbook. But my mind’s become blank. Like I never studied. Because I can’t think of a single bloody word. I think it’s because I feel empty inside.
   
April 25, 2001 - Wednesday
I went to Caffé to meet with Embryo because Mom and I would soon be moving to Taguig so it was sort of like a Farewell Party. It felt more like bonding than goodbye. Poet made me feel whole. We talked the entire night. Not even a goodbye from him.

April 26, 2001 - Thursday
Practice of the Wedding Singers. I can’t seem to stop thinking. Cussing Nurse enrolled today (so did some of our other friends etc.). Cussing Nurse said she saw him. He said he’s been busy, has no load and wasn’t aware that I was moving.

April 27, 2001 - Friday
Practice of the Wedding Singers. I was late. We’re starting to sound good. I had goose bumps when we were singing Ikaw. Buffy flattered me by saying I was good. In dancing, singing and acting. The music filled an empty space inside me.

May 1, 2001 - Tuesday
It’s Labor Day today. But it’s also a sad day. It was heartbreaking, seeing people fight against one another. Man is law unto himself. He will strive to do what he thinks is just even if he comes across the most difficult of obstacles to obtain it...

Lord. Save your people...

May 3, 2001 - Thursday
We were moving our things yesterday. But we weren’t allowed to leave the village. Because we weren’t aware of the policy of getting a signature from the president of the homeowners and the head of the security office when you're bringing your OWN things outside. We went through the trouble of loading everything into a 12-seater passenger jeep only to remove everything again. Geez.

 

We arrived at Taguig with only a few clothes and saw Aunt D scolding Ate A. Ate A had been crying. She locked herself in the CR. Aunt D seems cold to us but it doesn’t matter. I don’t know how else we can progress from this kind of life when we have the wrong attitude. Things are very confusing. I wish I could take a vacation. And read as much as I want. And play as much as I want.

I wish I could talk to Michael Jackson for inspiration.

May 4, 2001 - Friday
I spent the entire afternoon playing tong-its with my relatives. I tried writing a letter to her. Somehow everything I wanted to say disappeared because of the sudden demise of my brain cells. Like I have so much to say but nothing to tell.I’m getting very frustrated. I have to keep busy, keep doing something. Otherwise when I let a second fleet without doing anything, thoughts of him linger in my mind. Causing a discomforting ache in my heart...which I’m dying inwardly from.

May 5, 2001 - Saturday
Reflection. What do I normally see when I look into the mirror...? I see thousands of images. But I can’t find my own. Perhaps it’s because I’ve always struggled to be an eye’s delight for many years. Striving to be what they want. But not satisying what they want. Therefore, in the process of finding companions, I’ve worn so many masks. ‘People don’t trust what they can’t explain...’ I grew up as a teacher to my own soul. My spirit has a life of its own. I’ve searched for the happiness complexity lacks. I’m happy with my dog, Mico, whom I left at Las Piñas under the care of the owner of the house we used to rent. I’m happy with beautiful mornings, breathtaking nights and still dawns. I’m happy with the fulfillment that overcomes my solitude, fulfillment brought by the simplest symphony. I’m happy with the artistic, passionate words strung together to make a story that befalls an aching heart. I’m facing this trial even though I took no part of its beginning. I don’t look back because I won’t see anything good. I haven’t lived my life yet. I’m living theirs. Because I’m being their child, the child of my beloved parents and the child of my estranged relatives. Poet, being in a similar situation, and I, have a choice to leave and start our individual lives, making our own decisions, dealing with our own problems. Problems we can make for ourselves because of the desire to feel satisfied in making the right solutions. I’m standing by because I need to. Because I want to.