attempting to write

I know, I've been a bad blogger. I never would want to use the word BUSY as a reason. I believe I can always make time if I will. I've had added workloads this year though. Half the time computing and calculating. And when my brains do the math very often, I forget how it is to flirt with words.

One more legit reason?...
How legit is that?... This is taking most of my time in the world wide web. I've been so hooked with my farm! Virtual it may be, but I've taken care of this parcel like for real. But then I guess "farming" makes me a lousy blogger. It wanders me off from weaving and knitting sentences. phrases. paragraphs.

Only lately that I have felt the burning passion to write again. Burning and flaming, I refuse to ignore. In my heart I really love to write. So I hope this burning stays awhile.

ANOTHER HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

This post is a month late.

Last month, I celebrated my birthday. Although I kept silent when it came, it's the most significant of all my birthdays. My brother sent me a text message on my birthday. He wrote: "May this day remind you how much God loves you for allowing you to celebrate another birthday"... Indeed. I've never been this grateful. When I met an accident, I was given a second lease on life. And celebrating another birthday, I consider a milestone.

I re-read the post that I wrote for my b-day last year. Nothing much has changed since then. Still struggling with vanity. Still keeping a tight grip of the remaining youth that is left of me. But there's one noteworthy thing that has happened. I now welcome the gift of old age. When the signs of aging start to manifest in me physically, I wouldn't mind anymore. Because then, that means I'm still alive. Having faced before death has made me value the winter of time.

So, wrinkles and gray hair, bring them on! But still, I hope, not too soon (grin!). But when they come a little sooner, again I say, I really don't mind anymore. Because by then I'll make sure I have the inside beauty flourished over time. And that's what only matters.

CAME THE SMASH

(cont...)

We were smashed right onto the creek. I was in panic of drowning but we were submerged only a little half-way (One more reason to be thankful for. I could have been half-way dead by then) . Blood was everywhere. There was this woman beside me all blooded on her face. Really a scary sight. Apparently, I did not feel any pain and I was not wounded. But as I tried to get up, my left arm did not move. I held it close to me making sure that I still have it. It's clinging in my body, still very much a part of me. Except that it cannot feel anything.

Rescue came. One guy reached out to me and grabbed my arms. Suddenly, a sharp pain in my left arm. Sharp, excruciating pain!

My left arm was fractured. I was operated for an implant. Right now I'm still recuperating from the operation. I will be starting my therapy today. And hopefully soon enough I can do without my arm sling already.

before the operation

after the operation

Yeah, I'm typing with my right hand.

p.s.

Nobody died from the accident. Maybe some of them are okay now. Some are still recuperating like me. But what's important, we're all alive and enjoying our second life. Thank you Lord and cheers to life!

Cute Blogger Award

I got tagged by Tani (Thanks Tani! And sorry, it took me so long!)
As recipient of this award,
1. Each blogger must post these rules.
2. Each blogger starts with ten random facts/habits about themselves.
3. Bloggers that are tagged need to write ten facts about themselves. You need to choose ten people to tag and list their names.


So, here are my ten weird, random, little known facts or habits about myself.

1. In relationships, it's inevitable that people fail me or I fail them, and wish we could shut each other out. But either way, I don't burn bridges. In most cases, I just don't cross the bridge. (this can be another topic for another blog time)

2. I am musophobic.
I have this fear in mice/rats. They get me extremely hysterical, they could kill me! In fact they almost did when I was still in my mother's womb. A rat startled mommy that caused her to bleed quite profusely. The doctor gave my precious life an ultimatum. If wednesday comes that the bleeding still doesn't stop, she has to scrape me out. Tuesday, the bleeding stopped... So yeah, my life is meant to be.

3. My first aspiration was to become a nun.

One day, mommy had a chit chat with the mother superior (in our school). And for whatever reason, she sorta bragged that "oh, my daughter wishes to become a nun. She must be a saint in the making!". Then the mother superior went up to me, encouraged me a little more to pursue this dream. And in front of my adviser, she attested that she's been seeing me frequenting the chapel. She LIED! I barely go to the chapel. Well, that made me change my mind. Not only lawyers are liars. Nuns, too.

4. Speaking of lawyer.. If there's any regret or "if only" in my life, maybe that is, not following my dream to become a lawyer.

5. My first love will always be dancing. And I can say that "first love never dies".

6. I love Rainy days. If you happen to have watched the movie "One Fine Day", the weather in that movie can best describe my perfect day. Windy and drizzling all day.

7. I love Fall.

I live in a tropical place wherein rainy or sunny can only be the choice, and I've never experienced fall (or winter, or spring) in my life. But I love fall! The color of the leaves. Orange, yellow, magenta, purple! Fall affects me in a happy kind of way. Kahit sa picture lang..

8. The saying that "silent water runs deep" isn't true in my case.

You can call me a hyperactive teen-ager/kid (note: I am far from that picture now. I've grown to be so demure .. heheh). I was always in the list of noisy girls in class. I laugh and talk a lot. I run around seemingly restless. And you can hate or love me for this. To those who only know me skin-deep, I may appear shallow-headed. But I am a surprise because I am more than that to those people who really know me inside out. At my young age, my human understanding is already broad. Friends come up to me for advice or simply talk about life (almost dissecting life)... I had a friend/roommate who's twelve years older than me. She said she finds me very mature. I think maturely (daw) than other kids my age... So, in my case, noisy water can run deep, too.

9. I fear to be old, wrinkled, and ugly. I am trying to learn to come in terms with this reality.

10. Motherhood did not come so easy for me. After I gave birth to my first born, I suffered from depression for a long time. Was it the hormones? Or did I find it hard to say goodbye to my youth and freedom? (another topic for another blog time).

For the eleventh...

I break rules. So, instead of ten, I'm tagging everybody. Please feel free to add this to your blog.

TAKE UP YOUR CROSS

photo credit

A mere thought of needle pricking can chicken me out. I cringe at the onset of displeasures. I get tempted to run away from problems. Oh these things we call CROSSES! Disputes, sickness, poverty, traffic jam, bad weather. And if I could choose, I'd rather take up the lightest of the crosses. Or none at all. But more often than not, we don't choose on what crosses we want to carry. They're just thrown at us. Nonetheless, we can decide on how to handle them. And that's what makes the difference.

If I have to be asked about the cross I'm carrying right now, it's this autocratic, power maniac I know. She is my cross (and everybody else's)! I'd rather not go down the list of my grievances. Talking about them would only reap negative feelings but doesn't solve anything. I can just describe how I see her in my own eyes. In my eyes, she is oftentimes a beastly thing with its long curvy pair of horns, sharp, pearly white fangs and a tail. In some occassional instances, she reaches out my distance. Those times, she appears to be a cuddly, harmless puppy with its fluffy ears and wagging tail. But, "oh don't be deceived!", I warn myself...seriously.

It's easy to hate her because she is hateful. But I try to go beyond what I can see. Her inferiority complex hiding behind the arrogance. Her trying to use people to fill up her low self esteem. Beyond what I can see is a pitiful sight of inner struggle and brokenness. Sometimes I try compassion instead of hatred. Well, easier said than done. But I don't stop trying.

To love the loveable is effortless. To love the unloveable is virtue..

Am I being a cross for another person? Am I making life difficult for somebody else? Heck, I'm no saint and I can be bitchy sometimes. So once in awhile I do some double checking. I could be the villain of another person's life story and I might never know. That's scary..

DOES IT RHYME?

I started out writing together with my (two) friends. But the word "together" makes it inaccurate. They write and they share their writings to me, while I write but keep my writings just for myself. I was not sharing, so I was not "together" with them. The thing is, they write in poetry.. I DON'T. And that made me feel insecure. Somehow I felt that my own writings were second best. If words don't rhyme, then they ain't good enough! So I clammed up. I continued writing just for myself. Attempted to write poems but failed many times. Actually, I was able to write a few. But it didn't pass even my very own amateur yardstick. It's either I'm not really good at it or I'm just not into it. It's not a liberating experience for me when my thoughts are confined in rhymes and meters. So I gave up poetry. I just contented myself in reading my friends' writings. Reading their poems was my favorite pastime then. I miss those days... Good memories.

I remained writing free flowingly. Ironically, sometimes, I am able to write poems with no intentions. Just recently, I shared one of my writings to a friend. Then I was so surprised when she uttered "Very nice poem. Beautiful!". What poem? I don't know how to make one! But she insisted it was a poem.

Here's another one that I wrote years back. It was not meant to be a poem but seems that it turned out to be one as well. Funny that I can actually make it when I'm not trying.

SONG

photo credit

IT'S A FAMILIAR SONG THAT I SANG FROM A BROKEN PAST. THEN I STOPPED WHEN SINGING IT HAS BEEN KILLING ME DOWN. I HAVE QUASHED IT SOMEWHERE I WOULD HEAR IT NO MORE. SUBDUED DEEP DOWN THAT NOT A SINGLE MELODY WAS ALLOWED TO STRUM IN MY HEART. I LIVED FAR FROM IT. SERENELY. UNHARMED. AND WENT ON WITH MY DAYS SINGING A DIFFERENT SONG. THEN ONE DAY I HEARD IT ALL BREAKING LOOSE. THE SONG, SO BEAUTIFUL, SO REAL, AND SO PAINFUL. THE OLD FAMILIAR SONG, AGAIN, SINGING THROUGH MY VEINS. REACHING MY HEART WITH ITS POISON CHARM. WEAKENED AND STRANGLED ME WITH ITS SUAVE, KILLING TONE. ENCHAINED AND IMPRISONED ME IN A PLACE FROM MY PAST....

I AM NOT SINGING YOU NOW AND NEVER AGAIN. I AM SINGING ANOTHER TUNE, SO PLEASE LET ME BE..

The year that was.

In 2008, life moved me in different directions and sometimes reckless. At times I was made to ran fast. So fast while everything around me seemed to move in slow motion. At times I was spun around and left dazed. Shoved away from my comfort zone and thrown in a battlefield. It was not an easy battle but thank God it's over now. I was somewhat disoriented, but hey, still alive. Every warrior, good or bad (I was a good one, if I may say), won't leave the battlefield without bruises or scars. I have licked some wounds and I am healing now. I am glad the battle was over before the year ended. Won some and lost some, but definitely still a winner. 2008 was a rough year for me but still full of blessings.

I don't welcome 2009 with a big bang (Oh I've had enough from last year!). Instead, I embrace this new year with much serenity. My spiritual journey continues this 2009.

On with my pilgrimage...

AN OLD MAN REMINDED ME

I was alone in the room while the rest of my officemates were upstairs for a program. A retired BIG BOSS came to pick up his monthly pension. I was taken aback. Trying to figure out what seemed to be wrong with the picture before me. I looked intently at his now very old, worn out face and his unproperly buttoned suit. Oh, he was a heart-rending sight! I can hardly grasp any of his words but I understood that he had a stroke few months ago.... "But sir, the vouchers are not yet processed. But it will surely be done this week." I saw the frustration written all over his face. "But, it is usually out this time of the month", he insisted. "Sir" I tried to explain "there was a little delay in the release of funds. But I assure you it will be released not later than friday". He looked at me, as if waiting for me to announce that everything was a joke. I was trying to find words to suffice his confusion. Words to ease his desperation. But he just stood there as if waiting for my punchline. Hay..If it was a joke, it surely wasn't funny. He was staring at me straight with his tired and weary eyes. And he turned his back. Walked slowly and sadly away from me. Oh my..I guess the old man badly needed his money. For his medication. Therapy, maybe. I don't know..He was tearing me apart.

Life, it is ...

He used to have a bubbly spirit. Such a brilliant mind. A big boss in control of the world. But look at him now, almost losing everything. His youth, health, wealth. His power. And soon, maybe even his brilliant mind. He had everything that the world can offer. And looking at him, he manifests the truth that everything in life indeed is fleeting. And though these lines are commonplace, everything in this world boils down to this reailty. I feel sorry for the old man, but I surely thank him for reminding me how I should live my own life. That I shouldn't be so attached with the world. That at the end of it all, I will be losing everything. And what will be left of me is my soul and how well I was able to nourish it. And at the dusk of my life, I will have nothing but my soul faced before my God.

photo credit: lefion

o LOREN

My JOURNAL. MY SANCTUARY.

The life of every man is a diary in which he means to write one story, and writes another; and his humblest hour is when he compares the volume as it is with what he vowed to make it.—J.M. Barrie, THE LITTLE MINISTER (1891)

I vow to keep track of my life by keeping a diary (yes, this blog). Go back to some significant part of the past, dwell in my present, and look forward to the future if I possibly can. But words are blocked lately. This is the time when the well runs dry. Groping, juggling, quenching for words but nothing can seem to depict my thoughts.. Damn frustration!

Keeping a journal is keeping trail of my Self.. In each words I write down, it’s looking at myself in another person’s eyes . This time, objectively and free from partiality. I can see with much clarity my joy, pain, mistake or a job well done. Outside of myself looking in, I can have a better view if there is a need for a bigger or smaller room in my life. A renovation or maybe an overhauling. Outside looking in, I can have an honest to goodness account of my values or habits and account of the people I have allowed to enter within the premises of my life. If there’s too many people and too much to handle, and if there’s a need to pull out the bad weeds to save the good ones ( Or if I need few, tolerable bad weeds so I can eventually grow and learn from them. In real life, few bad weeds are not bad enough. They give us strength of character. Or compassion. Or simply understanding human nature )… This way, I can understand myself a little each day. And in each day of understanding is an inch by inch closer to my real Self.In this day and age, life can just pass us by so quickly. In a flick, we can lose track of ourselves. What a waste of time. So I slow down and write down my life or simply my thoughts. This is one of the moments that I know I'm living and not just merely existing.For these reasons, I’m keeping a journal. And hey, life is too short. I don’t want to miss a thing.

Photo credit: josh

COCOONED

Credit Image: bluedrakon

When the outside has been giving you more than you can take. When you're pushed and pulled in all directions. When scenes are moving too hastily. And when everything else seems to fail... You always have yourself to go back to. Shut out everything and cocooned in your own protection. For while the outside of you sometimes is not in your full grasp, only in the inside can you be in control.. Until you are ready to face the world again. But until then, you stay in the comfort of your own cocoon. It can be surprisingly too comforting that you wish to stay there for a much longer time... And who knows 'til when..