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.