courage, my friend

From my previous post i touched briefly about the time it took me to write a blog (and have it open to the public) so I can say I definitely identify and know by heart Paulo Coelho's answer.

"What were the greatest difficulties you faced during your career as a writer?

Paulo Coelho : To take the decision itself. It is good to have a dream, but it demands a lot of courage to try to live your dream." (http://paulocoelhoblog.com)

I may not be a great writer (and don't have a career as one), but I was once saddled with indecisions, doubts and a lot of negativity often encountered by writers (come to think of it, all people) toward my own writing. and most of my dreams.

It took a lot of courage to let go of familiar things/feelings that once comforted me but had been, in reality, obstacles in pursuing my dreams. Being a fairly intelligent being, I had all sorts of explanation toward decisions (indecisions) made and the path I chose to travel. But I am slowly breaking free and finally putting all my words into paper (action), though there is always this little bug that tells me to hide and go back. I haven't gotten to that point yet when all I've ever dreamed of cannot be traded for something else, something more "realistic", but I am getting there.

As I continue with my struggles, whether as a writer or just as a person, let me thank all the people who continue to prod, scold, and inspire me to be the best that I can be.

To those who simply believe, I salute you.

To all those who are struggling and praying for courage, know that you are not alone.

tennis bug

as i was surfing (got frustrated and drifted farther and farther in cyberspace) for places to stay in baguio this coming december, i chanced upon a blog that leads to a married woman's blog. since i took an interest in the recent blog, i scanned the title of the posts. the one about tennis and her obsession with roger federer made me think of my own passions (and yes, obsession) toward the game and sports, in general. i've chosen to put a link to her site since the posts i read seemed to come from me.

i don't play tennis. and if you've met me, you'll know it would take all the muscles and everything else i've got just to lift and swing the racket, and that would be done while standing and not running around after the ball!

but, i just plain love the game. close to how i love basketball. however, that's another topic for another day.

back to tennis, and roger federer, and my long-time tennis player of all, andre agassi. i like federer, because he really humbly defies and redefines the game. and agassi, for the whole package - as a player and as a person. the coming of the swiss player cushioned the disappointment i felt due to agassi's retirement. when i was writing down all the things i want to do, people and places i want to see and meet, these two are not far down the list...and yes, that by some miracle i get to see even one wimbledon or french/australian open.

i can vividly remember bantering with Roger, Kuya John and some guys from my former work, and even betting (without money, since i totally agree with my mom on her views about gambling) on every game. and getting so excited when we talk shop. hmm, i miss those fun times. ala na kasi akong kakulitan dito about sports eh!

senti

wishing on the starless sky, crying for the dreams i lost. lookin' out, yearning everyday. when will we meet at last?

do i even have to wait or are you someone i already know? will i then recognize you? and you, me? are you wishing the same thing/s too?

12:12am 02.16.2007

deep

10.27.2006
06:46 pm

i am a lost soul. wandering these streets, once a while i find connection--with people and places. most of th etime, it doesn't last. i enjoy it, treasure it. yet deep within grows the same passions, hunger, emptiness...desperation.

d bestseller

in our lives we don't only have one story. it's like a book, with chapters, different characters and full of twists and turns. some characters might be there from start to finish while others might figure in just a page or two. Much like in real life where there are people who walk with us all throughout the journey, and those who are fleeting presence, yet both leave lasting imprints.

- 09:12 pm 10.20.2006

to all the characters in my book, thank you for having made/making everything wonderful, mad and colorful. fit for a bestseller.

"history of food...and everything"

my eccentricity (read: very particular) with food and intake has been a source of ribbing from friends and relatives. i don't mind those good-natured jokes and sometimes, encountering shocked faces and even more questions when one discovers it for the first time. i've gotten used to it and can now honestly say am at home and have accepted it.

for a time, however, that has not been the case. i can remember a time in high school when i had to pretend to eat (and actually ate bits, with lots of rice and generous gulps of water) vegetable during girl scouts' activities simply because i didn't want to be labeled sosyal and by default, be different. belonging in high school, of course, was very much in every young one's mind then as, by all indications, it is now. i didn't experience nor feel (okay, to be honest, sometimes) inferior and unsure of myself then, yet i still felt the need to be like everyone else at school. amongst family it was totally different. i was me, no pretensions. never felt the need to be a new or different me. and still don't feel the need now.

things changed in college. there i wasn't afraid to be matured. wasn't afraid to be right and wrong. and slowly became me. first, amongst friends, then, to mere acquaintances and strangers.

i didn't care whether they knew i don't eat vegetables and anything with mayonnaise, don't like ketchup (except when it's added in spaghetti and as long as i don't taste it more than the other sauces), don't eat beef (although peculiarly i eat burger patties, stateside corned beef and 1 locally-made corned beef), don't like dishes with vinegar (even the smell oftentimes makes me gag) and yes, if one of these touches my food, i can't eat it already.

unhealthy and limiting, some say, and i agree. but, i am happy and for now i am content.

i miss...

...my huge and soft bed
...my room
...the tricyles that are way much comfy than the ones here, where it's so tiny and designed so low every humps and bumps can be felt by the rider
...guinobatan longaniza, the family's fave way way back and the best that i've tried so far
...dishes (bisteg, adobo, and those dishes with sabaw) cooked as only family knows how.
...barking of dogs, ours, i mean. and playing with them.
...the kurakdings in Camalig, Bicol, Manila and abroad, of course (you know who you are!)
...good cable tv (axn!!star!)
...walking to the mall and chancing upon friends and acquaintances every time without fail
...slow-paced/laidback lifestyle
...the little kurakdings
...easy transportation schemes (read: driven by/hitching a ride w friends or relatives) and shorter travel time
...my dvd component
...the sight of Mayon Volcano
...friendly friends (again, you know who you are)

to dear bebe nika

you are still too young to read this now. i just started my blog and yes, starting to write of things, well, almost everything that i fancy, hold dear and anything that just struck me --good or bad. since i made the commitment to let go of my fears, talk (or write, since it is my passion) and share myself, it wouldn't be complete if i didn't take the time to say a few lines to you.

your coming was a bittersweet moment for me. more sweet than bitter, of course. it's just that your coming underlined the fact that someone was gone and wouldn't be there to welcome you. but, i was oh so glad that in return, before she left, you were given to us. a gift. so tiny...and chinky-eyed. :)

if you weren't there, the passing of time would have been much slower, painful and unbearable. with the help of the people who matter--and you, when you arrived--i felt the hands of time slowly starting to move again. through you, we retraced our steps when we were once young and so energetic. the house is full of laughter again...and you brought so much happiness to your lolo max. i shared to my friends and colleagues almost every antic that you learned as you grew. naturally, i felt sad during those times when i had to correct you. i feared that you would grow spoiled if you were given free rein, you know. i was so proud every time you exhibited signs of an intelligent, inquiring mind. as if i had something to do about it. maybe like most moms or relatives feel, i felt that you were another einstein, a genius-waiting-to-be-discovered...and i still do. i can just imagine how your mom and dad feels.



you still have a long journey ahead of you. and i'm glad to be in most aspects of that journey.

teardrops and love

songs currently on my playlist:

1. teardrops on my guitar- i've always loved sad songs.
2. breathe (2AM) - love the beat. and how it is true to not forget to breathe. everything will pass.
3. way back into love - just as i love sad songs, i will always go back to uplifting ones.

maybe it is not about whether a song is happy or sad, but more on the fact that in particular moments of my life, be it during, before or after, the songs seem to speak and represent my journey.

hmm...the first song can also be my version of a time in my life when tears were all that's left coz of drew. :( it was a time when i wasn't looking for love but it found me..and turned my world upside down. and just as some good things reveal themselves...it also unravels. and you're left to wonder...and feel the pain.

and all you can do after is breathe...and pray you can still hold on. day by day.

then, by some miracle, there comes a time when you really feel satisfied and happy again. when you know who you are again and can be happy without feeling sad.

now the world has turned as it should be.

the beautiful one

yesterday a very important person in my life celebrated her natal day. i couldn't be there to greet her personally but my day was spent thinking and wishing the best for her, as what i do during "v.i.p.'s day's"as i term it.

we share a lot of things -- from clothes, shoes and material things, to ideas, values and those ideals we hold dear. with her, i am me.

i can just doze off without fearing she'll think i was bored by her. i can laugh out loud without caring that she'll think i'm bad. i can bare my innermost thoughts without fear that next day, i'll hear it being repeated in someone's conversation. i can just come home and give her a hug and cry, and everything will be light. with her, i was able to have my quiet moments and didn't feel bound to fill the silences so i'll not appear dull. she shared her family and made my childhood complete that i never felt mine was lacking.

more importantly, she loved the most precious person in my life like i did.. and will always do.

to this beautiful person...thank you. lots of love.

moonlight

if we are lucky we meet and know special people. each unique and unforgettable.

i met several, so i guess, i'm pretty lucky. one such person who came to my life is someone who defied the often saying about anyone with a talent for numbers isn't any or as good in english, and what's more the written word. a certified mathematician yet a talented, astounding writer, poet, pianist and artist. a creative mathematician with a kind heart.

i was, i am and will always be amazed by her. our friendship is something i could never explain, from the start and until now. our connection is one of those rare ones you find. i have grown and learned more because of her. she gets me without a lot of words...or maybe because of the words. and life's lessons and psychobable, which we both love. and yes, our passion for things...music, anything.

some people might say she's too cool, but i say she IS cool. no more no less. but it shouldn't be confused with lack of passion or emotion. because that's definitely not the case.

for a long time, however, she was one of the people in my life that i could never quite bring myself to write about...and sometimes talk about. perhaps it goes back to how i am with people, things and dreams i care for. held closely in my heart. for fear or something else, i don't know.

once, she wrote me that distance or anything that's been going on in our lives ought not to make me feel that i don't know her or know her less. that stuck to me and since then i am of the belief that yes, she will forever be moonlight to me and i will forever be little bee.

unedited

I love the written word. I cannot remember a time when I didn't. Not only was my love for it restricted to reading but I even tried to write, from simple messages in my diary to short stories. But I never had the courage to publish about the things that really interests me. High school life made me more open about this, for yes, I was able to compete in essay writing. but usually done if almost all the class would be competing too. Under the guise of joking or trip lang. My mom was my avid fan...even though most of what i wrote she hadn't even read, since i kept them to myself. She read the college publication where I became a news editor (nobody wanted that post at that time!) and my articles before I submitted them. But those were entirely different than what I am talking about. I never published about the things that I love most...my family, my passions. Even when blogging started, I was very tempted to do so. Sadly, a lot of things prevented me. I prevented ME. Looking back maybe, it is because the things that matter most is either buried deep within or because I convinced myself I was not good enough. but, no more. I don't care if I am not grammatically correct nor even correct, for that matter. This is me, pure...simple. unedited.

destino

"The challenge will not wait. Life does not look back. A week is more than enough time for us to decide whether or not to accept our destiny."

A lot of people asked me why I left the call center world where I've been a part of for such a short time. For the longest time, I couldn't really tell them why, except my closest friends, who, even before I explain already knows more than I might be able to share. So I always give an abridged version, true yet maybe, incomprehensible.

But the reason was very simple. That was not my destiny.

I enjoyed my stay in that world, there is no denying that. I was even able to conquer most of my fears and believe that I am good, regardless of anything...of my self-doubts. There I regained and became more capable of rejoicing, without boasts or false modesty, that I am something. Mostly, in the midst of all the chaos, the busy fast-paced corporate world, everything became clear. Although I made the first step, for how many months after that first step, I retreated, perhaps afraid to face adult life again. Paulo Coelho is right when he mentioned the above quote in his webpage. A week, really, is a long time to decide whether or not one will accept what is destined to be. My decision to leave the call center was one time where it was very clear to me that staying was not for me, there are other things in store for me...i did not yet know at that time, but I knew that I had to get out. For me, I have fulfilled my reason for being there and felt that change is in the air.

on buses and trains

july 31 at around 7:30 pm (gmt+08:00) was the worst ride i had in the mrt (metro railway transit). waited for awhile and had to shove and be pushed towards the train's doors. we were like sardines and i avoided fainting just by the mere thought of how embarrassing it would be afterwards. if only i wasn't in a hurry since i had a lot of things to do, i would have simply waited. by now i am already used to congested trains but most of the time i still long for the simple and leisurely trip of my childhood and growing up years in the province. i am, after all, still a provinciana at heart. but no matter how tedious i find the trip to be (i have to make 4 rides/transfers to get to where i work!), the mrt station is a part of my daily routine simply because of fear that i'll get stuck in traffic (or would have to wake up very early to beat the morning rush!) if i chose the bus instead. lesser of two evils, i guess. oops, gotta go and endure another "mrt-episode". maybe this time, i'll be lucky and won't get pushed in the mrt or maybe i get to sit down for the duration of my ride.