beyond words

Sometimes, I feel that there are so many things in me I can't communicate to others even though I'd want these expressed. During these times, I get more and more convinced of the Rosseauian concept that language has caused us to be unfree rather than to be free. I try to put down into writing my thoughts and feelings but I always, always fall short. Sometimes it bothers me that I can't share an insight for fear of not doing justice to its depth and mystery. It's the worst feeling. It's like you trying to move your bowels but no shit comes out because, afterall, you're constipated.

Yesterday, I read this piece from the devotional I mentioned a few blog entries back. It somehow told me it was okay to be lost for words. In fact, it is necessary to be so. Because it is in inner silence that we are formed and transformed. It is from this state that we can move toward something we want to be.

Keeping the Flame Alive
Guarding the inner life
Ephesians 1:13-14

We sometimes mistakenly think that every thought should be expressed, every vision proclaimed and every dream explained. We think that everything that takes place in our inner world is ultimately meant for public consumption.

This is clearly not the case. There are things that are sacred and private. We don't usually divulge the intimacies of our love life to others. Similarly, there are intimacies of our interior being that should remain hidden. Henri Nouwen notes that 'silence is the discipline by which the inner life of God is tended and kept alive.' It is in the quietness of our own being that thoughts can be carefully nurtured.

It is there that hopes can be persistently sustained. It is there that dreams can be awakened. In the solitude of our inner life, resolutions can be forged and difficult commitments made. There an uncluttered intimacy can flourish. There the self can be renewed and transformed. There love can grow and that which is sacred can be guarded and protected.

If this interior life is not maintained, we will weaken our inner strength and dissipate our resolve. We will all the more easily run the risk of being swayed by the dominant voices of our time and run the danger of losing ourselves. To keep that which is sacred is not selfishness. It is right to maintain that which guards the self. It is moreover, the seedbed from which courageous actions flow.

dreaming of dreamers

What is it with me and dreamers? I always find myself, though not necessarily in a romantic way, attracted to people who are perennially preoccupied with something. These people are driven and intense. Often, they are masters of their own craft, and mysteriously so hard to reach (in short, autistic)! I find myself foolishly wishing to be able to pry open their world, to be shared their thoughts and feelings. And I always end up disappointed. For my own good, this preoccupation has got to stop.

Lately, another man who caught my admiration is Bob Geldof, the musician who in 1984 brought together starts like Phil Collins, WHAM, Sting, U2, david Bowie and a lot others to form Band Aid. This all-star group recorded an album with the song Do they know it’s Christmas and set up a huge concert as a fund-raising project for the famine-stricken people of Somalia. Then I realize that Geldof also fits my description of a dreamer. His passion tinged with this palpable rage, and his dogged pursuit of raising funds, awareness, and political action for the victims of Somalia excited me utterly that I was glued in front of the TV for two hours watching BBC in which the story of Somalia was featured. The sense of excitement stayed long after but it was tempered by this feeling of nostalgic wishing—-wishing there would be more people like Geldof, wishing there would be someone like him where I am.


Bob Geldof in his earlier years looking rather pensive

Working with UNICEF in Ethiopia
Bob Geldof today

This year, Geldof brought together new pop artists like Jamelia, Sugababes, Robbie Willliams, David Bedingfield, Dido, Blur's Damon Albarn, and others to form Band Aid 20. Although he has aged, the passion and intensity is still there. I sure hope Band Aid 20 will be as successful if not more so than the original one.

endorphins

I haven't blogged in a while for couple of reasons. First, I coudn't get online because our phone line at home got cut. My mom refused to pay the bill which contained erroneous IDD charges we didn't make. Turned out though, those charges could've been internet charges from porn sites. (HULI ang kung sinong nagsurf ng porn sites dito sa bahay. BWHAHAHA!) Second, I didn't feel like writing because I had nothing to say. In my humdrum-sorry-as-I-make-of-it kind of a life, what is there worth sharing?

But then I guess I don't give my life the kind of credit it deserves. Things have been brewing up lately. For five straight days, my parents took off to Manila for their general check-up and left me to manage the drugstore and the house all by myself. Syempre naloka ako! I was thinking , without my dear mother (the pharmacist) who possesses the expertise of disposing medicines to customers, I (a mere political science graduate) and my team of two (both college undergraduates) would have difficulty in locating a products among thousands of classes and in suggesting to customers alternatives products for non-available ones. But I could not afford not to take my staff and and forge ahead in this endeavor. I, at this point was the assigned master and commander.

First, that meant waking up at 6 am to open the store.(Oh nooooo!) It also meant monitoring the salespersons and not dozing off at the cash register in the middle of reading a book (which I normally did). It meant making extra effort in being able to sell more by mainting fast-paced service and friendly assistance to clueless customers. It meant giving out product orders and receiving deliveries. It meant taking care of the money from the sales and depositing it. Whew! I surely had a lot of work to do. Oh and I almost forgot, since we didn't have a CR in the store, it meant holding up having to pee till lunchtime when my brother Kevin would take my place during his lunch break from school, and till closing time at 7:30 pm. Haaaaay nako! Buti nalang di ako pala-ihi.

Surprise of surprises I did manage to wake up early. This reinfores my theory that I can really wake up early of I wanted to (evil me, not being able to do so on normal days). Also, the good thing is that in those 7 months of forced bumming around at the store, I have been familiarized with most of our products, though numerous they were, and therefore have already known their storage locations, uses, and generic names so that I had been able to cope when I was finally in charge. For those times when I didn't know where to look for the goods or which to substitute, I referred to MIMS, the Pharmaceutical Manual available for use in every drugstore. Slowly, I was fitting myself into the role even thinking of things to do in the store in the occassional lulls of the mid-afternoons. My team and I fixed displays and took inventories of products that have run out. I got to admit, I started to like it.

I have said to myself over and over again in the past that I am not a salesperson. I never will be. But I guess it is difficult not to get the sales bug when you are in a family of salespersons. (Both my mother and father's families are in retail and wholesale). But then again maybe it is not the sales job per se that brought out a positive energy in me. Maybe it is just the job period. I find that I am most happy when I am busy and deeply engrossed with work. I haven't been thais busy since I was in school and I loved it.

Turned out, this responsibility didn't do great things for me alone but for the business as well. My mom observed that sales rose to up to 20% when I was in charge. Maybe she's just pulling my leg though---to convince me to stay a little bit longer. Well I don't know. I mean who knows? Maybe i will.

21 and morphing

It was the first time in four years that I got to spend my birthday in Aparri. Although simple, the dinner party graced by the presence of my relatives had been full of warmth. It is in gatherings like this that I feel I’m living up to Wolfgang Puck’s motto: Live, Love, Eat (…and drink a little wine, as my cousin Nicholai adds)! I cooked up simple courses for the occasion, those of my recipes that have withstood the test of time and very discriminate palates, I must say. There were my baked macaroni, cheesy caldereta which I prepared the night before to bring out more flavor, stir-fried vegetables. My aunt gave me much needed help in the kitchen and tossed some jumping shrimps into the wok, seasoned them with sesame oil, chili, salt and pepper, and Tabasco. She topped them with crispy garlic as garnish. I forgot to prepare dessert though and we ended up buying cookies and cream ice cream, which the kids always love anyway. I thought I prepared a lot but it turned out the food was just enough. That there wasn’t much food left after dinner was actually a pat on my shoulder. I realized that this would probably be the last birthday I’m gonna spend sponsored by my parents so I decided I had better enjoy it while it lasted.

If you have been reading my previous blogs or if we have been talking in the past months, you would know that in the first four months that I was in here, I was becoming more opinionated to the point of being combative. I was constantly in mood swings that had to do with my confused state of emotions regarding my stay here in the province which I felt impeded personal growth. Growth that I could only get from working away from home. Now, a month after my “retreat” in Manila (which was spent more actually on talking with friends most of which are not satisfied with their jobs), I find myself being more calm and agreeable without being reticent. I actually even have small chit-chats with my mom now which I realized I missed a lot. Although I haven’t dropped my kontrabida tendencies (I still chastise her for eating too much mayo, and bread, and cheese and a lot more stuff ), I’ve dropped my bugnutin attitude which I acquired during the first part of my stay here. It feels so much better.

Although 21 years sort of mellowed me down, it also brought out the more kikay side of me. I lost five pounds in the initial two weeks of my low-carb dieting (Yes, I’m finally dieting! Haller, like that's long overdue?!) and I am maintaining my current weight. I also plan to lose 10 to fifteen more pounds. Although I don’t see myself as too fat, I am in fact overweight AND obese. With my height deficiency, I’d better shape up lest someone mistake me for a sack of rice! Aside from doing something with my weight, I finally acquired a liking of dressing in bolder colors. My wardrobe has been shouting boring over the years with jeans and shirts without much accessories. Though I haven’t shopped lately, I have ransacked my mom’s cabinet for fab finds and had turned a few items into accessories. This morning I even went to mass with a melon colored blouse, gorgeous jeans, fucshia stilettos, and a fucshia hanky scarf around my neck to match. That’d make some cringe. I cringed myself at these colors a few months back. But not today, baby. No, I was actually digging my outfit. And it did it for me! I’m no Carrie Bradshaw look-alike but I had her spunk rubbing off on me today even if it was only for an hour or two.

insomnia

It is in the middle of the night
That they come
Ugly faces of discontented mothers
Of rape victims who are shocked to be relieved
When they miscarry such hateful babies
In the dark
They moan
Old hags who never marry
But have seen
Penises of all shapes, colors, and sizes
Sometimes
There's just that nice lady
Who adds up her monthly salary to own an apartment
But can never really
Add up
And then
There's the cripple
Who wants to move her big toes but just
Couldn't
It is in the middle of the night
That I get ugly.

adolescence: not sweeter the second time around

I'm a late bloomer. Yes I am. At least on a few things, that is. It is only now that I am beginning to explore what I really want in life. And I think it may be a little bit too late.

I entered college thinking that I wanted an economics degree. My mom thought it was one of the courses that led to getting high-paying jobs. And so she encouraged me to apply for AB Economics. I complied, because what the hell, I enjoyed my economics elective in high school anyway. Also, my aunt who had an economics degree was earning heaps of dough for the longest time. I ventured to Ateneo with high hopes in mind. But everything changed after a year. I shifted to PolSci because I knew economics was not for me. The thing is, I did not even know if PolSci was. It was just the more sensible of choices. I chose the least evil for my personality, I guess.

I liked my new department. I liked my new block. I finally felt that I belong. I've made friends who are definitelty keepers, rushed 20-page individual papers with them overnight (11 font,1.5 sp mind you), laughed about weird teachers who look like they could match profiles of serial killers. I was having a blast. However, no matter how I understood the field of study and no matter how competent I was at it, I never quite truly felt for it. I was never passionate about politics. I had interest in it, sure. This is the result of watching too much news and public affairs TV shows and reading too much of newspapers and news magazines when I was growing up. But I do not really envision myself as a political analyst, a bureaucrat, or a PolSci instructor.

What do I envision myself to be then?

That's just it, because I still don't know. I'm 20 years old. My friends have jobs. Some are going to law school. And I don't know. I think I've spent too many days I my earlier years envisioning myself as having an economics degree that I was not able to explore other options. And now Iâ'm doing the exploring thing all over again. And it sucks that in this age, I feel so unsure of myself, more so perhaps than I did in my adolescence.

I have wide-ranging options. I know my main objective though. I have vowed to myself that no matter profession I land onto, I would be helping other people. But that's as far as it goes. Neat, huh? Not.

I am considering writing and doing some research work. Research, perhaps I can do. In fact, I also see myself doing some research for news and social issue magazines. There is a job opening I think for Intersect magazine and I plan to submit my resume. let's see what happens. Writing, though, is a different thing. I mean who am I kidding? Objectively, my writing is lame and boring and I know it. It's too high school-ish, I realize. It is limp. It lacks the vitality of better vocabulary and witty remarks. No, I have a long way to go before I could start writing publishable material. I'm considering a career in development studies also. Too bad, I did not just shift to the development studies earlier. (Reminder: no regrets. Right...) I am surfing the net for universities that offer an MA in development studies abroad. But there's no way my parents could afford sending me to school abroad right now. I'm only getting some ideas for the future.

Still, I'm stuck and I'm getting nowhere. It' so excruciatingly slow. I get insomnia for thinking and thinking but my thoughts only ferment in my brain and it gets so damn, uh, I don't know...tiring. My face breaks-out, I get mood swings, I get hostile and lash out at my parents for no apparent reason. Aaaaaarggghhhhh! Now, I’m feeling more sympathetic for angsty thirteen year old brother. I mean, this is hell.

more on east asia

I wonder why I get all these news about East Asia. Last night, I happen to watch a report on the AIDS epidemic that's slowly spreading in China. According to the report, there are more than 100,000 poeple infected with the virus which has spread over the decade through the blood-selling business propagated by local officials in the Hunan province. Apparently, these local officials of the provincial health department, encourage peasants to sell their blood. The terrible thing is that used needles are being utilized in the process. An orphanage for children of AIDS victims was set up by a carrier himself. The orphanage was able to raise a million yuan for the 52 children through donations. However, the orphanage was forced to close because it doesn't have a permit. Now the children have been transferred to a new orphanage set up by the province. But others remain skeptical and chide the government. These people suspect that the provoncial government is only putting up an orphanage for show because they realize an orphanage attracts large amounts of money. Many are fearful that because of the local officials corruption and negligence plus the people's lack of awareness, AIDS will spread in China in exponential proportions throughout the next years. (to see CBC's the full report, click here)

***Too bad I dozed off while waiting for the eclipse this morning. I was reading Milan Kundera's The Unbearable Lightness of Being in my bed. I've given up on seeing the meteor shower becasue the skies here in Aparri were really cloudy. I was only banking on seeing the eclipse. I awoke around 4 am to see only less than a quarter portion of the moon though my window, afterwhich I returned to the welcoming arms of my sleep. At least I glimpsed at it. I've never seen a meteor shower or a lunar eclipse before. I kind of wished I was in Katipunan last night. I would have gone to the Manila Observatory with some friends, a good ol' AtSCA mat and some chow. Oh well, next eclipse maybe.

considering hermitage

I'm beggining to discover that in general people bring out the worst in me and I bring out the worst in people. All my life I have never been too much of a social person and I am beginning to understand why. The past month with my family in Aparri and the last three days with my father's relatives in Manila has put me in a roller coaster of emotions.

I've never experienced mood shifts in such short time intervals as I am experiencing now. One moment I am happily chatting the morning away with my brothers then the next comes an outburst from my father on how we all waste our time doing nothing. Some days are uneventful and then my 12-year old brother Paul picks up a fight with my 16-year old brother Kevin and the scenario ends with my mother succesfully making them stop but only through waiiling her heart's disappointment of all of us. She begins to rave on how she works hard at the drugstore and goes on to rant on how ungrateful we are and how unhappy we make her feel. Yesterday, I even had to endure hours of my aunt's wrath on her college kid who got booted out of La Salle and is now enrolling in a computer academy in Makati. We were driving to Tuguegarao from Manila and boy could she go on and on and on. The next two-hour ride with my dad from Tuguegarao to Aparri was more pleasant. I am glad my dad and I are able to talk now comfortably about family matters. I'm happy I'm beggining to be treated as an adult, with my opinions asked and my suggestions taken into account. Albeit pleasant, the talks were about family and families are always rigged with issues. Truly, I mingle with emotional vampires.

I realize that I feel happier when I am alone in the big city cooking my own meals, doing my own laundry, cleaning my own room, doing my own business as usual. I like to move in my own space and time. I hate it when other stuff are mixed with mine but I hate it more when my stuff get lost in others. I don't like waiting but I definitely cannot stand being waited at. I don't like it when people get too nosy regarding my affairs and I'm not the inquisitive type at all. I can only tolerate a few people and now that I think about it, the common thing about them is that they are people who know their boundaries as well as mine. And I am most fine with that.

I do sound like an egoistic bitch who doesn't know how to live life, an escapist who can't accept that life requires having to deal with people and their differing attitudes and characteristics. But I can't help it much if this is how I feel. I'm not much of a people-person but I don't consider mysef a loner either. I think that I'm somewhere in between as I am in most things usually. I used to wonder what makes people just clam up. Now I think I quite understand why introverts do. Can anyone really blame them if in their solitary world and only there can they actually feel good about themselves? Can anyone raise their brows and wrinkle their noses if in their own world and only there can they find their peace?

simple joys

The other day I woke up a lilttle bit earlier than usual to watch the 2004 Tour Pilipinas cyclists ride through the narrow streets of our laidback town. The cyclists reached this near-tip northern municipality with welcoming cheers from the local townspeople who waited about an hour on the streets to be a part of this media-covered hullabaloo. Thus ended the 11th stage of the Tour Pilipinas course. In the evening, a show was set up at the local elementary school but I did not care to watch. I was too tired (and maybe too full) to. I dozed off at around eight thirty in the evening and woke up an hour later when my relatives came back from the show. I was still full.

The afternoon was really the highlight of the day. After mass, my cousin angie, my brother kevin, and I went to the perya near the municipal park to sample street-foods. It was street-food stall hopping for the three of us and boy were we so excited. We devoured skewers of isaw baboy, fishball, squidball, chickenball, kikiam with sago't gulaman. Not yet satisfied, we bought tokneneng, spicy-sweet dilis and brought them home for our other cousins. We nearly even bought hotcakes. Pity though, our 100 pesos could only buy too much. It was a blast. I missed isaw and tokneneng and I missed those days when my friends and i would go to UP to satisfy our street-food cravings. I missed unripe mangoes with bagoong. I missed kwek kwek and sweet corn. Haaay! I'm sure that wherever I am and whenever, I could never ever cut off my love affair with these Pinoy treats.

perils on east asian children
Did you see BBC's feature on fake baby milk formula in China? It's so sickening that ill-minded poeple can even go as far as making fake food-- and for baby's at that. These milk formula are sold in the provinces of China which are mostly populated by uneducated peasants who wouldn't know how to determine a fake from an authentic package. God, even I wouldn't if I were not vigilant about it for crying out loud. The babies' teeth wont grow, their skin were peeling like month-old poatatoes. Their health were totally destroyed and since growth is at its peak from birth to around three years of age, there has been tremendous amount of irreparable damage to thousands of these babies.

Speaking of babies and children, I'm growing more and more curious about that horrifying railway blast in Ryongchang North Korea which killed about 160 and injured 1600 others half of which are children. Of course we don't see footages of the said incident. I don't even expect that figures of deaths and injuries are correct. Trust the North Korean government to try to control information from leaking to the outside world so that they may save face. All I want to hear at this point is for them to finally accept aid from South Korea which the latter is very much willing to provide. North Korea should check the logistics of aid transfer through the border if they must but they can not dally. I presume the victims must be treated immediately and North Korean hospitals can not handle the sitution all by themselves. Food and shelter must also be provided for those whose homes were ravaged by the blast.

life's choices

One day, when you least expect it, a person will come into your life and jolt you our of your comfortable world into a realm of wishing, and wanting, and hoping. He is everything you ever wanted. And your heart does not make that pitter-patter whenever he is around really but it swells like a batter rising into a delectable piece of blueberry muffin too hot to devour and which therefore needs some cooling. Suddenly, the life you've lived doesn't at all seem enough. You begin to wonder what it would be like if this person were truly a part of it. Somehow the space you've set around yourself expands in its own volition and has become a little bit too large, a little too empty. Am I in love?

For more than a month, I have been in my own dream world until..."HOY! Tanghali na! Gumising ka na diyan...diyan...diyan...diyan." Why is it that when you are in the state between wakefulness and dreams every sound seems to get a little bit louder? I rub the sleep from off my eyes and head to the bathroom. A heavy feeling sinks in my gut as I remember this morning's dream. There was so much in it: some futuristic battle with me drenched in sooty rain going in and out of time warps. The only thing worth going into detail I guess is that I am in some sort of trip with around six to seven people. I am staying in a room perhaps in a hotel or a room of a spaceship. As I am drying my hair after a cold shower, lo and behold, the object of my month-old infatuation comes barging in without a word and uses my bathroom with the door wide open. So smug about himself, He finishes off and leaves the room in silence. And I go, "What the hell was that?" It was only now in the middle of the day that I ask myself. Is he really the one I ever wanted to be with or is he the one I wanted to be? When we get attracted to somebody, do we get attracted to the person simply because, or do we get attracted because there is something in him or her that we wished we too possessed?

I've always been a sports buff. I always watched, though. I never played. All through my adolescent years I watched Game Plan in Channel 7 and dreamed of climbing mountains, plying rugged waters in a canoe, scuba diving. I drooled at Ironmen and I wanted to be able to finish even just a marathon. I watched NBA, and every Grand Slam tennis tournament. I always dreamed to be able to ride horses without a freaking guide. But, as I've said, I never was able to live my dreams. Now he...he had these. Not without some bitterness, I can say that he is someone I never had the courage to be. And in my dream, he actually was mocking me. I make it sound like this guy's a monster. In reality he is not. He's not at all smug as in the dream. Well okay he is a little, but he has this boyish aura when he speaks. He also is quite a spiritual person and I find his perspective on things a little amusing but sensible. I can go on.

Still, the point is this: Is it always like this? Do we get attracted to the people we somehow would like to be? When I think about it, I wonder if this also applies to our choosing friends. Sometimes I catch myself wishing I had the same uninhibited spirit a friend of mine has, or another's confidence in dealing with strangers, or yet another's creative streak. Does this principle also work in choosing our place of work (maybe we would want to be more chic so we work in Makati) or even with merely choosing our soaps (perhaps would like to be whiter?). Does this principle apply to everything? In the end, are all our choices geared toward ourselves?

escapism?

Too tired of thinking which path to choose in life, I just let go.

For two weeks now I've been in our northern sleepy town of Aparri. I am slowly settling in. It's difficult when you've been accustomed to city-life and you come back to your hometown. Suddenly the roads seem to get narrower. The priest's sermons seem to get cornier. It gets hotter, dustier, slower. The people even seem to be darker than you remember them to be. (Not that it matters. Just an observation.) It's sad that the town that I have loved all my childhood has turned into a place that gets into my nerves. And I don't understand why. I come home after deciding a lot of things from the retreat and I feel that I am being mocked. I planned to stay for a while in this town, embark on a self-improvement summer program, and catch up with famlily affairs but so far, I've done nothing productive. Our house is a mess. I sleep late and wake up late (to the chagrin of my business people parents). I never exercise, I binge on whatever food lying around the place. I feel terrible.

I think that the excitement and enthusiasm I had before I arrived have been tempered by the all-too real relations I have with my family. It's easy to plan things to do for yourself and for other people when you are not in contact with other people. In your mind you can do what you want without other people telling you to do otherwise or do things this way or that way. In your imagination, nobody will disagree or seem hesitant or look ungrateful. When you plan things it takes a little bit faster to work because you tend to overlook other factors like the heat, the procastination, the unavailability of ingredients, the incessant settling in of dust, the boredom etc. etc. But, I realize that I am in the real world with my family. Although it's easier for me to live alone, for now I can't because I made a promise to myself to stay here for a while and help in the family business. So I guess I'm stuck.

I know. I know. There is a deep-seated issue here I haven't resloved yet. It's not the town I hate nor my family. Somehow I know that there is something in me that makes me irritable. Maybe it is the usual question: What do you want to become in life? See staying here for 6 months or even a year won't matter as long as I already have something to look forward doing in my life. But I have none. And that's sickening. Older friends tell me to take my time. A lot of people still do not know what to do after graduation. And so I try to chill. I've started cooking again. Yesterday I baked butterscotch oatmeal cookies and cooked dinner (pork barbeque and buttered veggies). I'm starting on simple dishes and I plan to gradually try more complicated ones. My goal for the summer: chocolate souffle with to die for icing topped with strawberries. yum yum! I hope I can get hold of those elusive ingredients. (Imagine, in order to buy parmesan cheese you'd have to travel 2 hrs. to Tuguegarao because the groceries do not have it here.)

So far, I'm starting to relax and have fun. Until when? I try not to care.

katas ng walong araw na katahimikan

*On March 10-19, I went with 10 other people to Baguio for an 8-day Silent Retreat. It is amazing how a lot can happen for 8 days of silence. I think I have been "ruined for life" . The following are excerpts from my retreat journal. Some poems were inspired by what I saw, heard, and felt during the retreat.

March 13, 5 pm Journal Entry
My experience of reconciliation

I have made a very important realization today--one that will determine the course of my life. I have discovered that I have not loved anyone at all. I never have loved my family, my friends, all those who I thought held some importance in my life. I think that I am sin personified. Sin I learn is the turning away from whatever it is that makes you who you are. it is the turning away from the will of God for you. All my life, I always tried to keep things balanced. But the Lord speaks to me in Revelations. I am neither cold nor hot. I am lukewarm. It is in this state of lukewarmness that I do sinful actions.And God wishes that I be either cold or hot.

I always wanted to be different: not to be considered as one of the noisy and maaarte girls, someone good, someone my parents would approve of. I did not want to cause heartaches. I wanted to be someone respectable, someone to be looked up to and be proud of. And I have successfully done just that. I grew up a good girl and my parents became proud of me. But, as I grew older, I realized that people accept you more and open themselves to you easily if you are not that seemingly perfect person. They say you are self-righteous, in a high horse, a know-it-all if you are so. So maybe, unconsciously I tried to fit in. I learned to smoke, drink, swear, and I learned to do a whole lot nastier things which I did so that I was able to feel more human. Looking back, I did not even want to do all these. And yet, I did maybe to tell myself that this is as good as I can get. I will never experience true happiness in life. But now I realize that it is not sinfulness that makes one more human. It is even the reverse. It is actually in transcending our sinfulness. It is therefore in loving. Sin is something that keeps me from being who I am. Suppose there is no sin in this world, who am I therefore?

While I was meditating a while ago God said that I am someone whom he made--a CREATurE full of longing for him. Why do I ignore this longing and succumb to the ugliness of worldly affairs? Why am I so eager to please others when I should be only pleasing Him? Yet, I do not endeavor, I have never truly endeavored to please my God. My mom always said to me, "Give your best in everything you do." But sometimes when she sees that it gets difficult for me, she says in a more comforting and assuring tone, "Basta gawin mo lang yung kaya mo. I do not expect anything. Just what you can do." I never realized that the two statements meant the same thing. For everything that you are able to do (yung kaya mo) is always your best and vice versa. I misunderstood her though and I am afraid I may have grown up an underachiever. I never honed my skills and my talents. I never experienced making goals for myself. All achievements I had I am convinced, I have made because of coincidence or luck. I have never worked for anything that I truly wanted. Fact is, I never really wanted anything. I've always been content with what I had. It's funny, now that I think about it, that I even had the nerve to feel that I was better than others--those who hate. Now I know I am definitely not. I realize that in my not responding to God in love, in my not loving, I am lower than those who hate. I am, in fact, nothing. I say, lucky are the trees, the birds, the bench that I was sitting on. They exist for the purpose that they have been made for while I am nothing.

But as I was meditating on my sin fullness, I saw a bird's eye view of myself. It was like I was no longer in my physical body. I could see myself from above, sitting on the grass in front of the grotto, my back all hunched, my face hidden in my arms. The amazing thing is that I did not feel any hate for myself. I felt a certain kind of pity instead, the kind that a parent would feel towards her child who is suffering. Yet that pity comes with knowing that the suffering will bear fruit. That this suffering is a requirement, a must for the child's growth. These are growth wounds. With the pain, I also feel happiness and relief.I still have a lot of questions. Where does sin come from? Why do we even have to sin? Why are we given freedom? Can we not love without it? But I guess that's part of the mystery of sin. All I hope for right now is that because it does not make me who I should be, I better try to transcend my sinful tendencies in any way I can. Everyday I must learn to trust God and his promise of eternal life. I know I cannot learn how to live if I will not learn how to die. And trusting in the Lord is a form of dying in myself. I have the desire to do so. That I know I gained from Him. But sin that undefineable something that hinders me to love God truly is there. I just hope my desire will in the end be greater than all my fears. And so I pray to the Lord to teach me how to love.

In Calm's Torment
Do the cool winds really sting
I thought they'd be refreshing
My stomach is in a grumbling state
Or is that just diarrhea speaking?
In a semi-strange landWhere clouds pass me by
My heart beats steadily
Just like it does when I lie

Remembrance
I strain to smell the scent of youmy dear friend
Reeking of the past
Your perfume lingers andI can almost touch him
He who held my virgin hopes
My young musings and my delight
He who knew me but not completely
For from himMy fears, my anger, my lonely cravings
I had hidden out of sight
You've no right to wear him
I've no right to remember
So go.
Go and wash away his scent
Lest I will be able
To see you no longer

The Politics of Game
Dust rising up
Amid my slippered feet
Sun searing through my flesh
I know victory will be sweet
Sweat against sweat
Skin against skin
He struggles to break free
But the score is mine to keep
As the ball is passed to him
I move my agile limbs
Now the ball is in my hands
Startled, annoyed, defeated is this person--
My confidant.
I lunge forward then,
My body springing to life,
I bend my shaking kneesthe ball flies out of sight.
I guess I overdid it then
Now we're in overtime
My teammates scowl at me
On my bench I whimper
Mystified.

The Invitation
Like a grass defiantly jutting out from a pothole
In the asphalt road of security
You call unto me.
Through a lover's embrace, a friend's neglect
A stranger's smile
You speak to me.
On the busy road, on the mountains
In the emptiness of noise
You make me see.
And in my rebellion, my castle of mammoth
Wantings and desires
You beckon me.
Amidst the tugs of war, you say:Come rest in Me, come rest in
Me.

Still Untitled
A breath escapes me as I look
Into your face of dancing crimson and gold
Your somber expression catapults you from me
To a faraway land you go
And as I shiver in this darkened room
Of shared intimacies and regrets
Your words comfort me
As I grapple with emptiness in your stead
I drink them all in knowing
That this is all that I can get.

The Harmonica
A clutch disturbs my stony silence
the grip steady and stroong
Heat invades my body
Of metal and plastic and holes
You draw your parting lips to me
They blow, slide, and hold
I shudder out sweet music
Of all the love untold.