Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Return + Backtracking



At exactly this moment, I just want to return to the womb. The closest thing I can do, simply because I can never go back, is to let myself go adrift in the water. Be it a pool, a lake, a river, or the ocean, it doesn't matter. I just want to immerse myself in the loving water.


I want to be light because I carry too much weight in me. Isn't it amazing, how water---with its molecule makeup and all--- can carry and caress anything that can fall and break? Collectively, these molecules can support all that can be buoyant. So, my back in the water and my face to the sky, I shall let my arms and legs rest without flailing. I will then look at the sky and wish I could remain this way for the longest time.


There is something sad and euphoric about it that's difficult to explain. I realized this one time at the beach. The horizon was pink, purple, with a tinge of orange and the sea was turning a bluish gray. My littleness was heightened by the awareness by the true scale of things.  It made me want to cry because I was terrified. Terrified of awe if there is such a thing.


The awareness of frailty and power is something the human mind and heart cannot easily reconcile. But that's the beauty of it.




Dear Me,


Please pardon me for my moments of ineptitude. I will be better because I owe you that much.







(Things You Would Never Know: Part of a Series)


Long before you came along, I was already like this. I was afraid to admit it back then because of my fear of you, so I'm saying it now. I don't mirror you nor am I your shadow. What you are to me is a rude awakening, and honestly, many times I wished to go back to sleep. But I have to accept your gift (if it is a gift) graciously.


I do not know where your vanity is from. I do not know what keeps you vain. Why must you look at the eyes of your lover just so you can see yourself?




This is my cue. I walk away.


(September 28, 2010)


Monday, September 27, 2010

I am Sorry for Being Fragmentary (revised)



Oh farewell, Structure! This is what I said to myself for the past week, since I wanted to feel young again. I threw away my schedule and my body clock; I had a grand time. Of course, there were still limits. I couldn't afford to go "la vie boheme" all over again. I won't say that it's past me and it's unattractive. I love the life and the spinning chaos, but I can't bear living that way everyday. A drink or two (more) is enough. Staying up late from time to time is enough. A young person's gotta do what a young person's gotta do. But that excludes the stupid things, of course. But temporary lapses of judgment are forgivable if they don't damage you. You also have to collect things you can laugh about.




It was nice seeing everybody happy and laughing. It was great that everybody loosened up and lived to tell the tale. It was great sharing the night with you guys! :-)




I'm looked after. Thank you. :-)




From living somewhat chaotically, it's now time for me to revert back to being structured. I have to have my priorities aligned because I should be somewhere and I want to get there. I'll still stop to smell the flowers, of course.




Perhaps I have ceased to make sense or I'm getting too cryptic. That's because I'm not really here. The world has become too much to bear. I don't mean this negatively. I just need time to reassess everything: It's time to keep still.




Imagine that you're on a bus and you are the only passenger. You are a few seats away from where the driver is, but you can see the framed view made by the windshield. You see mountains, trees, and a big patch each of greens and blues. Don't forget the feathery white that makes clouds. Light plays on the windshield, and the glare is mesmerizing. This view makes you feel lucky to be breathing.

The bus is open. Your elbow is out the window. The wind is cool and soft on your face. You take mental snapshots: a curved side of the road that's by a cliff, more trees and a few quaint-looking houses, birds perched on electric lines, more birds caught in a glimpse in mid flight before descending, and a glimmering lake or ocean from beyond. Although you are far, you can see how the tiny waves move, how their colors transform as they are hit by light.


The snapshots that you take are many and you wish with all your might to keep them intact in all their accuracy. But the mind isn't enough and it decides to play tricks on you. Your heart sinks and you feel cold. It says that you've seen all you've seen but you have not lived among them. Then you think to yourself "Inertia. Your body is at rest, but the bus is moving. You are in the bus; it separates you from these places that you see. You've seen them but your feet haven't touched the land you have just passed."


After that realization, you then wish to live among what you have seen because you were made aware of your mortality and you want to embrace everything.




Yeah, whatever. Something like that.




Everyone's an iceberg. I said this before about people because I was busy peeling layers after layers of their psyches. (Pardon me for the sudden shift in metaphor.) Now I say this to refer specifically to myself because I keep on getting surprised by what I've been thinking, feeling, and acting.




Somehow I can sense that life is about to get better yet again. I have no idea why. Maybe my intuition is just really out of whack, but right now I just trust what it's telling me.  


(September 26, 2010)




I cannot say thank You enough. I've been callus and neglectful, but even when I'm at my most rash, you remind me to be graceful and so I am able to stand with both feet on the ground.




There is so much to love. Thank you all for making me see this. Thanks for sharing. Hopefully, I am also able to enrich your lives in some way. I may offer so little, but I wish that you gain something from it. All of you are my teachers.


(September 23, 2010)

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

A Letter to Star and Some Other Important Thing



My Star,


By the time you could make sense of what I'm saying, you already have a perception of me that was brought about by the things I do or did not do. Because of my imperfections, there's a possibility that you learn to loathe me. I apologize if I seem to be judging you; I can't help but say this because I learned the same thing about my own mother. I could only hope that you and I don't wind up on that same road.


Right now, I am watching you sleep, admiring you and how beautiful you are. The curve of your cheeks and how light plays at the edges of your eyelashes remind me that the world is good and everything will be alright. You make me feel grateful for being alive. In the future, when I am older, I may forget to tell you this, so I am writing this down now.


I will change as you grow, but I promise that I will strive to be a better version of myself. You deserve no less, Star. But please understand that in order to be my best self, I do have to stay away from you from time to time. Just as I am doing in this season of our lives.


I apologize for being away most of the time. I only see you when I wake and before I sleep. Even on weekends, I am not yours, but I hope that you feel that I am still with you, because I am.


While I am afraid to make promises I cannot keep, let me just say that I will do my best to always, always be there. I am excited to teach you things, and I hope I can teach them well. From holding a pencil properly to riding a  bike. From doing math to making peace with bullies (unless, of course, you turn out to be the bully). From prioritizing what you want to do to making friends with boys. From knowing yourself to wanting to know God. And many other things. Your first sip of beer will come from me, if you do not find it awkward. I promise not to tell you how to live your life if you can promise me that you'll have a good head on your shoulders and a kind heart in your chest.


I will not clip your wings.


There are so many things I'd like to tell you right now, but most of them will be contained in the short sentences I speak such as "That's dirty. Don't touch that," "Get away from there, no, you might fall," and "What's the matter? Why are you crying?" Hopefully, the little things I do carry enough of my presence to help shape you and equip you for this life.


Tonight, before turning in, I somewhat feel helpless, just so you know, because as of now, in your sleep, all I can offer is my warmth.








I can't breathe.


(September 22, 2010)                                                 

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

On Discipline, Will, Appreciation, and Restraint*



So where are my thoughts oscillating right now? Or rather, what's the most dominant thread? I had no idea as I felt that there's nothing new really (This happens when I'm so fixated on something: I miss the bigger picture.). It took a meeting to give me a clearer view from the fence I was on. The most recurring thought is discipline and how I can use it to shape my life the way I want to.


In a scale of one to ten, I'd say I'm a 7.5 on the discipline meter. I get things done, yes. I never veer away from my target, yes (I take long cuts, though.). The missing points account for the effort I put into. There's effort, but I do feel (at times), that I have so much more of myself to give and put into what it is that I have to do. I guess I just tend to be lazy if not preoccupied with many other things. Maybe, I'm also spreading myself too thinly; I end up carrying out my tasks in a haphazard manner. The result of this is a pale show of discipline's fruits.


Where does this leave me now? Knowing I sometimes am off tangent makes me want to just keep still and draw straight lines, so I won't wander off. Sometimes I wish I could just be a horse with blinders, but that won't work either---- I do care too much about the bigger picture.


I guess what I want is an intense discipline that breeds spontaneity, the one that lets you learn by experiencing everything in full. How I get that, I have no idea, but I trust that it will come when I need it the most. I just want to be ablaze with it and let it help me reach my full potential.




A very dear friend (Let us call her The Quintessence.) and I had a conversation over lunch. We barely spend time with each other, but when we do, like today, we end up unearthing many thoughts that resonate with us. This noon, it was about people and how jaded she was. According to her, no one longer impresses her. She thinks it's because she's always around overachievers. She sees them everyday.


It's not an envy issue. She's aware of what she's capable of. It's just that she feels the need to be wowed.


I can relate to this, but I won't pretend to know her kind of jadedness fully. In my case, I

am fond of the little things or quirks that make up a person, so it is much easier for me to love. I blame my new eyes for this—I am in love with most things at the moment, people included. Most times, I am just amazed by them, flaws and all.  


My response to her is that maybe, she needs new things in her life and that she has to just appreciate people, overachievers or not. I said this because I feel/think that no matter where a person is in this life, invisible work (to borrow Rilke's words) is happening. There may not be any visible fruits to speak of, but the toiling is real and that in itself is an accomplishment. As long as a person doesn't stagnate and continues to expand his or her horizons in whatever way, it could be called an accomplishment.


It seemed like she knew this already, but was too tired to remember. It happens to everyone, this kind of forgetting. I wonder when my turn will be, so I'll just keep my eyes open to avoid it.




...*private entry.


(September 20, 2010)

Spontaneity or Lack Thereof



Today, I am out of my element--- I just feel like horrible clockwork. I thought in fragments just as though my entire thought process went down the drain. This fact isn't at all noticeable to onlookers. A friend even told me that I did really well handling work duties. According to him, it was "automatic," proof enough of how I've learned so much in the past few months. It's a bit hard to believe, really. If he thinks it's automatic or effortless, I'd say that I'm just on autopilot, which is very bad. I can't help but feel a tad moody and disjointed.


What bothers me then? There must be something (What?!). Perhaps it's my awareness of what I've neglected for the past week: my illustrations, flats, home life, motherhood, etcetera, etcetera. Plus there are other things I must attend to like writing articles and work-related stuff. Maybe I've been in denial about my plate being full ("I can do it aaaaall!"). (There are other things too which I won't dare discuss here.) The consequence of this is restlessness and the inability to be spontaneous. The whole thing just makes me want to disappear again. I am suffering from a severe sense of wanderlust all over again. I want to escape.  


Well… I have the weekend to get things straight. My personal assignment is to stay true to my center and to find my true north.


(Take a closer look, girl. Don't turn the other way.)




A truth to be faced: You are a hermit and you like it.




Dominant words of the day: "nebulous," "disjointed," and "can't".

Punctuation mark of the day: the interrobang (?!)




Gah. Blergh. Argh. Expletitives, expletitives!


V. (________)


1.)    Work with

2.)    Rest with

3.)    Dream with




Oh clarity, show yourself. I implore you.


(September 18, 2010)

Monday, September 20, 2010

On Proofreading


Wednesday, September 15, 2010




Tonight (I write the saddest lines? Hehe. Gee, how I crack myself up!), I have no idea as to what I want to write about. There are many thoughts in my head, but bringing them out into the world prematurely will just make them sound like fluff. But then again, let me try to pin down these thoughts for posterity's sake. Lest I forget. I know I am forgetful and one of my life projects is to remember what I can the best way possible. A personal history is needed--- how else will one keep learning?


These days, I've somewhat removed myself from solitary confinement. While I see myself mainly as the mother of my child, I am now welcoming the idea of going out into the world.* Everyone gets to live only once. How does one learn if horizon expansion is limited? So here I am, ready for whatever type of exposure.


It makes me feel guilty though. More time out in the world means less time with my daughter. Unfortunately, I'm not that good at balancing things just yet. Although I am steadily learning, a voice at the back of my mind sometimes questions if what I am doing is wrong (Notes: self-sacrifice, self-effacement= outdated upbringing).


This may sound like a rationalization, but I do think that I need to be a well-rounded person in order to be a good mother. Hence, I'm not doing so bad at all even though I spend less time with my child. It's more of the quality of the time I spend with her. If I keep on remembering my center, my purpose, I'd be able to be really present with her in order to fill her---what do you call that?--- developmental needs.



Now, let's get back to going out into the world. There's so much world outside the door and I sometimes don't know where to start (Who does anyway?). I'm just keeping myself pleasantly surprised and grateful for even the littlest of things I learn.


I love life. Which is amazing because I used to think otherwise.


* Recurring issues much?




Oh, Your sense of humor really hits the spot. What do You want me to see this time? I need discernment!


It's great that You always answer. You know my heart better than I know it.





I am very thankful for my job and the people I work with. It feels like home. (On most days at least.)




Make new friends and keep the old. One is silver and the other's gold.

 - A Japanese folksong


(September 15, 2010)

A Few Thoughts Before Sleeping (and forgetting)



I know Somebody up there loves me.  How else will I get to where I am without becoming an embittered person? The thing is, the weight of responsibility still takes a toll on my back and I can't help but feel it in my bones. Let's use another metaphor, shall we? Sometimes I feel like I'm swimming in the ocean, tired but very determined to survive. My muscles are tense and my energy is slowly dissipating; if choose to, I can be carried away by the waves.


My mind has been preoccupied by thoughts of the practical. "I should make more money." "What other sources of income can I tap into?" "What will I do with my fashion career?" "When can I upgrade my lifestyle?" "When can I get a car?" "I need a house or my own place." "I need to make sure that my daughter has the best education." I guess these worries are typical for any struggling parent and professional.


It gets disheartening sometimes, to be honest. What keeps me going is the promise for those who are patient and have pure intentions. Seed-sowing.




Now that my beer goggles are off, I can see that you are too juvenile for my taste. You're just a boy and I am a woman. What was I thinking? Oh, wait. Four years ago, I wasn't thinking at all. Good riddance. I'm so glad to be free of you. I am not as patient as I thought I was or better yet, you do not deserve to be treated patiently as of this moment. What you need is tough love a.k.a. a strong whack in the head. 




I am coming to terms with my inner bitch. Yes, ladies and gentlemen. I'm not that sweet after all. I've got claws and sharp teeth to use if I have to.




I'm thirsty for new discoveries and I hate monotony. Structure is a different story; it doesn't have to be monotonous, but I appreciate its predictability. It's everyone's safety handrail in this topsy-turvy world.




(September 12, 2010)

People I Love + What I Love Doing



Tonight I am a 25 year old girl who is not a single mother, a subteam leader, an aspiring fashion designer, an aspiring writer, or an overall responsible person. I am just myself, raw and open, unafraid of showing humanity. 


I used to be a lot more guarded than this. But thanks to The Princess, The Frog Prince, The Ballerina, The Renaissance Man, The Crazy Cat Lady, The Soupgirl, The Actor, The Cartomancer, The Perky Girl, The Transporter, and The Psychologist, I have returned to who I am without the fear of being unaccepted. I am grateful to all of them. Their company is nourishing. They offer a balance of intellectual talk and playfulness, some of the few things I really need.


So this is what it means to be with other people without expectation. The give-and-take relationship is there, but there's no need to keep tabs. Everything's free-flowing. It's like there's an unspoken understanding of our relationship. We are simply here for each other, aware of each other's differences and existence. It feels nice and I am very thankful for this time.


(One of the lessons I've learned with them is honesty and candidness.)






I miss writing stories, but I do not know what to write. My process has probably changed. Back then, my creativity was fueled by a very passionate rage or a deep-seated mourning. Although I haven't written anything new as of this time, I feel like my process will be more technical. What will fuel it is imagination and mischief---the idea excites me.


I wonder what else I'm capable of as a writer. I wonder what else I can share and if they are worth other people's time. The only thing I'm sure of is that my new work will not resonate with my previous crowd. I have changed as a person, thus the change in perspective. I wonder what types of people will get me at this time.

In these times I don't, in a manner of speaking, know what I want; perhaps I don't want what I know and want what I don't know. -Marsilio Ficino

Fatherthoughts and Afterthoughts


My father has always been emotionally distant. For my daughter's birthday, my mother asked if we could go online to chat. The rest of the family misses the baby terribly and so I obliged. In attendance were my two younger brothers and my mother. Father joined in only for a time; within a few minutes of the family conversation, he was gone.


When I asked mother where he went, she simply said that he was in the next room watching "Marley and Me." "Marley and Me," ladies and gentlemen. What exactly was so great about this film that my own father would choose to forego conversation with me just so he can watch it? I didn't pay attention to this detail all throughout chatting with my siblings and mother only to be bothered by it now.


Let me go back to my first sentence. I can't really be sure when my father became as distant as he is. I also do not know why, although I have a few guesses. First, I think his distance stems from the fact that we were never close. He wasn't present during many milestones in my life: birth, debut, graduations, recognition days, motherhood, and so on. Second is perhaps he chooses to be uninvolved because of our knowledge of each other. He knows that there's an apology owed but can't give (For what reason again, I do not know.). The third reason I attribute to tiredness. He does work for minimum wage now, being a seasoned architect and all. This is damaging to his pride, thus leaving him more exhausted than usual. But then again, many people use exhaustion as an excuse when they wish to avoid confronting the things that matter.


Where am I in this? Where am I standing? Am I hurt? Do I care enough? If yes, how exactly?


I have yet to find the most precise answers for these questions. And maybe there may be no precise answers--- my beliefs will change as I do, thus affecting the way I think and feel. But what I do see clearly at the moment is a parallelism.


My father was absent and he continues to be. He was role model for a time, a long time ago, before I became aware of the irrevocable and damaging things he has done. My child, right now, also doesn't have a father. I also predict that she will be deprived of the "role model phase," given X's current state. This is bound to affect her severely and probably negatively. All I can do right now is to change our reality by doing my best to play the roles of mother and father effectively. I'm doing just that and I feel like I'm finding my way through the dark; I can't afford to have any missteps.


Parenting is a job designed for two, yes. But I now think that I turned out quite alright even with my father's absence and distance. I also turned out fine, given my mother's temperament. Who parented me then?


I used to think my family had little influence over me. I have always been independent. It's a lovely thing, but I sure craved having parents (who were not just physically present) from time to time.* In fact, my acceptance of family relationships is new. It was a hard lesson to learn. I was told that I could crave and mourn all I want, but it won't really get me anywhere.


Amazingly, I was able to vault the fence.  I was able to tear down walls and be a little more at peace with myself in this respect. At first, I couldn't articulate to myself how it happened. I had to come across Ian Mc Ewan's 'Black Dogs,' so I could explain to myself what I could not. The main character says that the best way to retrieve a lost parent is to become one yourself.


I couldn't agree more.  

*The feeling was most intense when I became a single mother. I felt like a kid with a kid.


"Enjoy the little things."


-Tallahassee from 'Zombieland'


(September 9, 2010)  

Thursday, September 9, 2010

Oh, The Freedom!

I no longer feel the need to be an emotional recluse. There is no need for that many walls.
I realize this now that I've spent time with some wonderful people. I have been empty
and now I am ready to be filled. I also have more to offer, too.

So…hello, world. You are my school and playground again.

(Follow up to September 6, 2010)

That Muscle in Your Chest aka Your Heart and What You Wish to Do With It

Earlier today, I was able to talk to a good friend about something I was very eager to
voice out. Amidst all this giggling and flirting is a deep-seated fear that concerns love.
My previous relationship was intense. We were electric. Aside from loving my child
immensely, I have never felt such a deep love for another human being. I fell in love with
X. And although we were extremely different—the chasm between us was so great--- we
found a way to build a solid bridge. Even in all impossibility, a soul connection was built.
That was what made me feel and decide that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with

Clearly, this has changed with all my naïveté gone.  I am terrified by the idea of love. I think I might not be able to love as deeply as I have. The idea of labor of being in a relationship exhausts me. Can I be myself? How will I fit this person into my
life? What roles will we both take? What if I just end up being like the main character in Joyce's "Araby?" What will happen to me after the relationship? I know I am getting ahead of myself, but these questions must be faced. I'll never get answers until I finally agree to let someone into my life.

It's great to finally accept that I am not closing my heart. I am not that eager, though.
It's just that I don't feel the need to be an emotional recluse, so I can work on myself.
There's really no "perfect" time, since we will forever be works in progress. Getting in
a relationship is all about balance and having a level head. With that said, I can look at
myself and say: "Hey, I do not have any major hang-ups." I am responsible enough for
myself that I can be with another person. But of course, the test of the pudding is in the

I'm not saying that I'll proactively seek someone to be with. The point is that I am not
closing myself because of fear and unrealistic expectations. It is true that a first love will
shape you in ways you can never imagine. It leaves indelible marks in your personhood.

But the knowledge of what you learn, good or bad, is at your disposal; you can always
have the option to act the best way possible to make a new relationship grow, so you can
also flourish in it.

(September 6, 2010)


I want to love everything I want to love intensely, so they can all seamlessly weave into
the fiber of my being. I want to know things inside out. I want to be able to talk about
them with depth. I want to be able to not just be awash with enthusiasm, but radiate it. I
want things to come naturally and honestly. I want to find and use the right words all the
time. I want, I want, I want. I want to live with intensity.

The daily grind makes me want to implode. So much of my energies are given elsewhere,
leaving only scraps for my self. I often find that I'm on autopilot, and this shouldn't be
the case. The awareness of this is both refreshing and scary. I remember conversations I
had with old friends. We thought that "artists" live more and therefore have heightened
feelings. Those who are considered plebians (yes, this is a reference joke) supposedly feel
much less. Therefore, this second group is the happier one. "Artists," then, are doomed to
eternal despair.

I now find that this is inaccurate. There is no point in labeling people as "artists"
or "plebians" Some people simply have different priorities. (Continue entry)***

(September 4, 2010)

A Few Things: Loss, Will, and Youth


I do miss leaning on your shoulder. (You shall never find out.)


My disposition as a single mother has brought about a default state of feeling
overwhelmed most of the time. Rewind to the first few months of motherhood when
I thought I'd go mad. I had no self-concept or identity to speak of. I was a nebulous
mess. Running away from everything was a very appealing idea, for I could not wrap
my mind around the thought that I have the potential to ruin something so pure: a child.

This fear, of course, has a long history: broken trust, disillusionment, and betrayal
were all part of the equation. I did not want to replicate that in my daughter's life. Back
then, I was that much of a coward, I thought I'd never get to figuring myself out. I was
overwhelmed by the amount of work I had to do. I feared the invisible battle and the
responsibilities of the real world. Succeeding did not seem possible; I was meant to drag
everybody down.

But that was roughly two years ago, when I was a newly jilted bride, an "almost misus."
Many external changes have happened, and these were brought about by invisible work.
I still find myself overwhelmed, but not disgruntled. Although I still feel scattered most
of the time (primarily because of juggling too many tasks), I now have a clearer grasp of
what I'm doing. Or so I'd like to think.

The fact is I get very tired. Sure, some say I make it look so easy. I do hate to employ
clichés, but most times, I just want to scream my head off, break down, close up shop. I
need to take a break from my life.

It's no longer about escape. This break is about confrontation. I want time and space to
ask myself all the important questions. I want to be more in tune with my rhythm because
at times, I seem to reject it.

I (I use this personal pronoun way too much. See? Ha-ha! Oh, the sarcasm.) dream
of traveling alone. I'd love to go backpaking somewhere far. Without a cell phone.
It's the perfect backdrop for recreation and reinvention. And salvaging lost skills.

This luxury isn't meant for me, so I have to make do with what's there. If I am to
embark on an inward journey, reliance on will, discipline, and focus is essential. I
am doing my best to muster all three, because I want to live and not merely survive.


I am grateful that this life hasn't succeeded in making me hard.

(September 3, 2010)

An Afterthought

Your thoughts are not pretty. Rather, they are not prettier than other people's thoughts.
The only difference is how these ideas are expressed.

My thoughts are important because they are mine, and that's that. They are valued by
others because they know me or they want to know me.

(Follow up for September 2, 2010)

Notes on Alone-ness

I have my own battles with loneliness. It attacks when I am most tired; when I yearn for

nothing more than a warm, trusted, and familiar body to rest with. Strange as it sounds,
I find that I feel more replenished after sleeping beside my beloved, even though I don't
get my staple eight hours of shut eye.

I have learned to live without the warmth of another body, but truth be told, it was a
difficult adjustment. After four years of "practically married" life, I am now forced
by discipline, necessity, and fear to lie in an empty bed. The gaping void used to be
terrifying, but this is no longer the case, so I should be glad.

Unfortunately, I can't lie to myself. I still want to sleep beside a beloved. My patience in
this respect is tested. I should not rely on him (whoever he is) to find rest. It must come
from within, alone or not. Aloneness, right now, is a choice.

I talk about this now because I've been bombarded with sex jokes in which I am the
subject. Some of my friends say that I must get laid. While I acknowledge the fact that
intercourse is a basic human need, I rarely find myself wanting it. I can live without it. I
do not miss it enough to pursue it (At this point, I ask myself, "Why would I?"). Not that
my experiences were bad. It's just that I believe in making love without having sex. It's
all about the soul connection, really.

The idea of joining with a beloved hip to hip and skull to skull during the act of making
love has to do so much more than skin---we are mere shells, making this act is an
additional expression of a stronger bond. It is also wrought by the desire to create and
build a life together.

I have yet to find a person to trust and love. Someone I can fully be myself with.
Someone I can celebrate and will celebrate me. But until that time comes, I shall continue
to grapple with loneliness. I do think I am winning, as I feel less and less alone, even in
the toughest times of feeling really beat.

(September 2, 2010)

In Flux

I am supposed to be at rest, but my breathing is shallow. As I retreat to my home, to
myself, I think, now is not the time to be self-indulgent. But I am confused by the honesty
of acknowledging identity and pretentious blabber, so I write away anyway, wishing that
I am doing the former. Pinning down one's self, as most lucky ones must have already
realized by now, is a very difficult, if not excruciating activity.

I'd like to think that I've grown more observant. Everytime I do something, I imagine
stepping out of myself, so I can watch. They say the "self" is dichotomized. The first one
is the perceived self, which my not always be true, thanks to subjectivity or pessimism,
and the other is the self perceived by others, or what people know about you. More often
than not, this view is more filtered, more accurate, objective. Or, in the worst possible
case where strangers are involved, it is simply a grossly misunderstood take on who you
are. Given this, it is difficult to trust both because of their limits. These days, I simply
attempt to strike a balance by unifying these two. I just want to see things for what they
are. I want to see myself as I really am. The idea is to be consistent as possible. For
self-security's sake or inner self-preservation. (Hah!) [*This is where I begin to scoff.]

It's difficult, for a person is multi-faceted. Of course, one can opt to do away with self-
examination and observation. But I still believe that it is much wiser to trust in the
difficult. Ask yourself all the hard questions, so you can know who you truly are. These
days, it doesn't seem common. Looking at some of the people I know, they seem quite
content with surface things.* Of course, I can be wrong. (I hope I am.) But there is no
such talk of what I'm thinking of right now. It's a rarity.

Unfortunately, as I've seen myself so far, I tend to be sucked into a whirlpool of tasks.
The lines are blurred because of this and tasks become equal to identity. The core of
the self is hard to find, but we all tend to be so brash when we step into the world to go
about our business. It's so much easier to claim that we are this, we are that. Sometimes
I believe it's a trap-slash-safety net, so we all won't go mad. No wonder can't bring
myself to fully love philosophy.

It all boils down to a challenge, I guess. It's all about being honest, even though the
understanding of the self is still in the most premature of stages. It's also tricky since
everything's forever changing. There is no pinning down of the self. Everything is just
as good as it is for now. It's all about the acceptance and the reassuring feeling of having
learned something at the end of the day. That's something you can really claim that is

* Family, relatives

(September 1, 2010)