22nd

For the past three months, I've had a chance to gaze at a possible lifetime partner. I liked his personality when he smartly approached me as a stranger.
We agreed to meet for dinner and know each other more. It was not a very comfortable date. The place was, but how he seemed to observe every little ways of how I am just made me uncomfortable.

The first date wasn't too bad at all if not for the situation after that. He lost interest chatting. It was a slap on my face and I was challenged to know the reason.
Weeks after I initiated chatting with him again. He responded pretty well and the next days we started dating again.
I asked him of the question I have rooted for an answer, "What happened? You were gone after our first date."
He brushed off the question and said, "Let's not talk about it."
My whole being protested for not getting an answer but I was polite enough to accept that the question was set aside.
On the 29th of August, a magical night brought us closer and it felt as if all the indifference few weeks ago were all forgotten. We never agreed on being ON but time and situation did.
I was happy. It seemed he was, too.
Date after date I was in love with the person he is even more. And I felt he liked me too. He's a man I can see myself building a family and growing old with.
Days were fast. And everyday I was wishing we get more comfortable. But it went the other way.

He became cold. Until none of the magic I felt at first was left. I was thinking it
was because I was struggling with career. But not certain. He's always thrifty at words.
I tried to hold on longer but a day came when the cold just froze my heart. It stopped feeling anything. I was unhappy. And so he was.

Then a day came when I made a ridiculous mistake that totally banished any affection (if he really felt it).

I'd like to believe that he was once upon a time. But I never knew if he ever loved me. Maybe the whole time I was just convincing myself that I was loved.

Just a thought of what might be in the future if we ever held on to the feeling of love. I still remember him often. But he will never try to have me back I know. Time will make me forget the regret.

Wishing him a happy birthday and a lucky year.

A BLISSFUL SOLITUDE

New beginnings are usually disguised as painful endings.
How reassuring it is to trust that such disguise will put an end to self-disappointment. How comforting it is to realize that the decent face of beginnings offers peace of mind.

Indeed, it is this novel beginning that should give an impulse to start climbing the ladder again- one careful step at time. Just like how a child gets up when he tumbles down, wanting to walk farther.

How beautiful it is if beginnings don't really bring pain. But it does.

I have been in an unstable state of career for almost a year now. I know, not a good timing for someone like me who has to be minded of the running time. I do not have a miserable state-but I am in this pace of my life when everything just seem to stop working for me.
It feels like I am standing on the same ground at a busy street. And I wanted to keep going but I have no clear vision of a destination. My only option is to be still.
And so I was still. I was typing this post and as I realize my state, I broke down into tears and felt very weak. I immediately uttered this line like some divine power whispered it to me, “I am still. I know you are God”. I covered my face with my hands as if I am ashamed of being so helpless. I few minutes after, I felt better.
So I searched it on Google and found a very comforting scripture.

This psalm encourages us to hope and trust in God, and his power, and providence, and gracious presence with his church in the worst of times, and directs us to give him the glory of what he has done for us and what he will do. 

I just felt that my anxiety has become lighter. Perhaps I should trust HIM more and put HIS NAME above all else.  At least a brighter light for today. 

Calmed.

A Damned Eve

She trembled when she heard his voice and felt his tensed hands. She was so ashamed, she thought, "jumping off the building would be a better exit". He asked her, "why did you eat the forbidden fruit?". And there was nothing she could say coz she was too ashamed of being naked. 

So she ran away from him. From her peace of mind in her totally fucked up world. From the care she always felt, from the love that always made her feel special, from the arms that always made her feel safe. Someone whose name she used to scribble hearts and infinities. And whose hands she thought she would hold for the longest time.

As she drifted away, she was so ashamed coz she knew he didn't deserve any of it. But she also knew that things can't be undone. She knew that none of the many reasons would atone her sin. There was no one to blame but herself. 

She stared blankly at the skyscrapers and looked at the giant canvass above her, and whispered to herself, " I cast my estranged self away". 

She sobbed and wished she stayed sobbing on the pillow where she left him. 

Iloveyou---Really?

Iloveyou always sounds the same but feels different. What's worse
is when iloveyou's become merely a part of vocabulary. It's a statue. Unable to make one feel anything coz it's made out of stone.
It is disappointing to expect love to happen just because iloveyou's are heard. It is better to say something else.
Words can fake it---feelings cannot.
I just feel very unloved. I feel betrayed being told iloveyou when I know that it isn't real. I have lost the faith in an iloveyou.

THE RIDICULOUS UNTOLD

What's with a secret? It generates suspicion.

It can be noticed by a tensed glance. A refrained talk. A delayed response. An altered mood. A sober kiss.
Eyes deliberately closed like it imagine someone else. An intermittent connection. A hidden friends list. A bundle of too-good-to-be-true words. A fake smile. An irritated grin. An unexcited voice.
What's with a secret? A bucket of doubts and a wrap of dismay. A cold shoulder. An aloof stare at  the wall.
Secrets create vulnerability to the existence of genuine love. Secrets should be told as part of respect and care. If one prudently neglects to tell secrets, he doesn't really give a damn about a lasting relationship.
A half-truth does make a lie; Truth is ALL or NOTHING. 

I got time and he's got secrets! Sad.

LOST IN LOVE

I wanted to get lost  in a conversation that pours out all secrecy from the hearts.
I wanted to get lost in an intimate moment that whispers and meant to say ïloveyou with a passionate kiss.
I wanted to get lost in a romantic gaze that brings the feeling of being needed and wanted besides all the silly imperfections.
I wanted to get lost in a touch that chills me to my bones ,esteemed that it will be everything that will ever be desired.
I wanted to get lost in a romantic instant where hearts skip a beat with every intimate glance.
I wanted to get lost in a chance that finds the one who will appreciate me and believe in me more than I do believe in myself.
I wanted to get lost in a DREAM that finds someone meant to be with me forever.

 And if any of these gets me lost, I pray it leads me to a LOVE that longs to hold my hand til the end. By then, I can move mountains to give all the love in the world.

ON BEAUTY VERSUS CHARACTER

          BEAUTY and CHARACTER. It takes both to find and be found by someone special. So close they are that one is sometimes mistaken for the other. Only, some people sees beauty as everything. So disheartening.  

           I've had a few relationships in the past. I should say, i don't recall  paying that much attention to beauty. I may have looked, but to pay attention requires my focus. And focusing on beauty is something fancy for me. I was always impressed with character. And only then will I pay attention to beauty. As far as I recall how the relationships went, all with precious memories. [kilig!] I was talking about years ago. Now, the perspective of being in love on character is a shot-on-the-moon instance.

           It's funny how relationships based on beauty begin and end. But it's the trend. No matter how good your character is, people will see it blurred if beauty is insufficient. Worst, they may just think of lust as reason for taking a chance to date. Distressing, but in most cases, true.

           In these days, it becomes a mind game to figure out intentions of a person you are dating with. The result can be depressive, but one may take risk for  a slim chance of finding someone true. It may somehow be unfair how I anticipate outcomes negatively, but better than to expect much and lose confidence. 

                      

          

LEARNING: AN IMPACT

      A hostess I was--my first post in the food and beverage industry.

     During my second month of stay in Bahrain, I joined a company as a part-time hostess in a luxury buffet in a not-so-busy mall. The experience was something new. I was surprised at how I learned a lot of things from colleagues and guests I get to talk to everyday.
      Speaking with people of different nationalities, aura, and culture was the initial challenge for me. After a few days of grasping how these people respond to each and every greeting, I began to feel accustomed to talking to them. Arabic and Indian cultures, in particular, are not that easy to deal with-but can be rewarding if pleased.
      I met Sir Lito, an experienced hotelier, who was the manager in the buffet. I was amazed with his humble approach on things and situations. He was a working manager who seldom give orders  but initiates orders through good example. I should say I thank him a lot for most of the things I learned and was comfortable at doing when I was in the buffet. I know that his attitude towards work and towards friendship will bring him a long way.
      I worked with several other personalities. So varied were their behaviors that I had to wear a different ear every time The complainer, the arrogant, the nervous, the lazy, the talkative, the naughty, the jolly ones.
I should say that within a short period of time, dealing with differentiated character styles boosted my immunity towards keeping myself away from the negative energy and just focusing on the positive ideas. In the end, only the happy people stays happy in their jobs. Concern or indifference to the helplessness of colleagues can be very easily noticed. Cheerfulness is always noted.

     So learning takes place even at the most coincidental and unexpected workplace. At the end of the day, the level of fulfillment still depends on how much you felt needed- and how people around you seem to have been positively impacted by the care the you give.
   
     

FAITH: A PERSPECTIVE

 


 This is written on the first day of EID, a Muslim festival which marks the end of Ramadan ( the ninth month of the Muslim year, during which strict fasting is observed from dawn to sunset- http://www.muslim.org/islam/ramadan.htm) According to a credible website, it makes the culmination of pilgrimage to Mecca while commemorating the sacrifice of Abraham (aha!).    

           In the Philippines, it has always been that the end of Ramadan is a celebration for both Muslims and Christians. For Muslims- because it's the seizure of their fasting for a month: and for Christians because they get a day off from work. Ramadan and Eid are familiar words to me. Yet, I never really fully realized the significance of these until I get to step foot in Bahrain, one of the highly acclaimed countries in uplifting the Muslim religion. My visit in Bahrain seemed at first as a piece of cake. I didn't realize how the start of Ramadan could make the coming days so grey. At the commencement of Ramadan, I was warned by my sister not to eat or drink anything when am outside. It was horrible for somebody who always loves to go places to be on food trip.    

        Bahrain is so humid that even when am in the car, my throat screams for water every minute. So the first week appeared to me as if everybody was at a procession for Maundy Thursday and Holy Friday. Like everybody needs to be quiet in a meditation. The surrounding was very barren. Food shops are closed, and even boutiques ( though open) are empty. I was completely having boring days. The only extraordinary sound I hear are the singing sirens in prayer times, five times in a day. Something that sounded to me like a signal to sleep and be silent.

        Until about I had one Muslim friend who offered me a tour to the city of Manama at a scorching daytime. While we were mobile, I was aghast with the view I have from the car. A police officer parked in the middle of the road and started kneeling with head bowed and hands on perpetual summon. His eyes closed and uttered prayers on his mind was obvious through his compressed forehead. I asked my friend, "oh my, what is he doing?" My friend replied, " He's praying to Allah". I exclaimed, " At the middle of the street with this extreme heat?!" He said, " Yes, that's his only available time to pray. He has to do it five times a day." With raised browse I asked, " Do you do that also?". He laughed and added, " Sometimes... Wen I  feel like doing it". I promptly whispered a question , "ah...so all Muslims are required to do it?" He hesitantly answered, "Yyyes?...but it depends on the intensity  of faith you have."

        After the conversation, I stared at the vast sky from the glass window and secretly told myself, " Yeah, it's never about religion or tradition- it's all about faith. I may not be fasting like them, but my faith in the Lord is as vast as Universe. HE answers my prayers without any number of prayers required. The spirit of any tradition offered to HIM depends on what sort of faith an individual contained himself of.
·        
 I have always been a believer, not only of his divinity, but also of his faithfulness.

Destitute

Tune in to music
Hang on every word
Shut the eyes

Feel the wind blow
Hear swift wheels
Lift up shoulders

Smell salty water
Hear dropping waves
Press the next song

Open the eyes
Look around
Feast on barren

Lean to the left
Frown at the sun
Shut the eyes

Stretch the right leg
Fold the left leg
Sigh

On Hardwork

     Hardwork is a humble beginning. I've heard success stories of wealthy people who made it to the top, starting at the bottom. I admire how they endured hardships and get to where they are now. Hardwork, indeed, is paid off in the end.
     Most of the time I can do things and people brand me as a hard worker. I can almost say that I am, until this point in my life. I seem to have viewed myself as irresponsible.
      I've waited a while and had let my sister spend so much for me to get a part time job. However, it turned out that I find the job too heavy. I don't mind it being degrading anymore. I just want to be able to survive every day without fainting or getting a serious sprain. I try to think of it as a challenge, but it turns out that my body is responding to it in an abnormal manner. Maybe all of my colleagues feel the same- back and tricep pain, piercing feet, short breath, painful hardened leg muscle. I've only been there for two days, and I was thinking maybe I get used to it one day, like everybody did.
       I'd like to go back to that work and keep convincing myself that what my body feels is temporary. That the pains will disappear eventually. But what I feel after work makes me pity myself so much. I still feel so much pain physically when I get home, in my sleep, and even the next day when I wake up. I'd love to just grab every day's duty without complaining because I know that my hardwork will be paid off in the end. But I'm in pain-physically. That kind of pain that tortures me the whole time. Even when I'm at home. I'd like to quit it--and prefer to just feel an emotional and intellectual pain. And hope that my loving God makes a way to make me feel better really soon.

Hopes and Prayers.

On Being a Woman

     I know lust over material things is not very simple. Some may even say it's not what makes one happy. That one should avoid thinking about what he/she does not have and focus on the more purposive things.
      But to say that you have to wear what you have while everybody else looks fantastic, is, for a woman, an embarrassing thing. Not that I focus on outside appearance to get satisfaction of myself, but majority deal with appeal when they decide to treat you superb, nice, or not so nice.
       I have thoughts of style and comfort if I have all the money and resources. I don't pretty much like the way I look now. Figure can always be worked out as long as extrinsic motivation is present. I am tired of wearing what's available. I want to look good and feel good. But with what I have now, I would only go as far as "try hard to look good". If only I have all the resources. It takes satisfaction of myself as a woman for me to be happy.
       Life looks very easy, but is actually hard on me. I'm blaming it with how I look. I absolutely want  a change for myself. I want to feel like a woman- try out new dresses, shoes, bags, get a new hair-do, get nail art, relax on a spa, exquisite jewelries, impressive fragrant, and so much more.
        I know these wishes won't be easy. Gotta work hard. And if I do, I don't really think I could grant myself's wishes.

Short of cheer.

On Being a Daughter. On Being a sister.

        I'm writing because today is Father's Day and I am grateful to have grown up with a father in the family. There were some not so pleasant memories, but I prefer to recall the best times. The number of mess Papa did proved how he isn't a perfect being- but a being who never ceased to love all of us.          
       He wasn't the coolest. But I remember a humble being in him, staying in the house and taking care of house hold chores. Four of us, ( with the exception of Nang Irene who grew up with Nanay) were lovingly taken cared of by Papa because Mama had been the family provider for the longest.
       Papa would do the dishes, laundry, babysit, even tell us stories on afternoon naps. He has shown no bitter feelings about everything he did.
        My Papa surely has flaws. As a father, especially a spouse. Despite of these, I remain thankful of how he never gave up and kept the family intact. Whatever his shortcomings are were part of his being human. The good thing is, he loved a lot, and he showed it in his small ways.
        Today's Father's Day. I remember how close I was to Papa during my childhood days. I somehow regret the years I spent in Manila that drew apart from Papa in mind and in heart. Though it seemed as if I missed so many years of being with him, I still look up to him as a good father. I thank God of him.

        Today is also my sister's 24th. She has grown very confident and smart. I am just so proud of her. I am happy that we've been given the chance to make up with all the years that we lost track of each other. She's the same. Except that she is no longer a skeptic and does things her own way.
        I find it incredible how she developed very good interpersonal skills. I can see many ways of how she's being blessed, and I admire her for her kindness and ambition.
        Being an elder sister, I feel like there is really nothing more for me to give her as she's been blessed with so much. Nonetheless, I still enjoy showing her love in my little ways. I guess the most I can do is make her feel how proud I am as her sister. We may not be the closest among siblings, but I understand her heart best. And I feel as if she understands me more than anybody else in the family too. I feel blessed being a sister to her, and I wish we stay close till we grow old. I know God blesses her in so many ways so she can be a blessing to everybody. And I know God has prepared for her more happy days in the future.

          Being a daughter and a sister is overwhelming. I will be eternally grateful that God gave me these amazing people. I hope that we will share more love in the days to come.


Happy and loved.

On Being Pretty

              I am not pretty. So what? I can do things other than the way of being pretty. It may be 60% true that a pretty face and body counts! but I can live with the 40% and work the other 60 my way.
             I'm not expecting for a handsome and rich guy to walk in. I can live without men. I know that I won't be liked because I'm awkwardly tall, with a long face, and bulky arms. I don't care about being liked anyway. The only reason why I go to the gym is so I can feel healthy. None of my desires is about hooking a guy. Damn it!
             I perfectly understand how people can be different. I don't get it why people would often compare. After all, am not into a competition of who's better or best. Am contented with feeling good about myself. I don't need destructive criticisms. I'm not the face and body you may like, but I'm certain I know what I'm worth.
            They say beauty lies in the eye of the beholder. I firmly believe in that. So if you have nothing good to say, keep your fucking mouth shut!


Annoyed.

Waiting-- and in between.

Waiting-- wey-ting
 noun. A period of waiting; pause, interval, or delay
 verb. To remain inactive or in a state of repose, as until something expected happens; to look forward to something eagerly.

Waiting as a noun seems very simple. A pause that can be played anytime. An interval that needs a little patience. A delay that requires a bit of understanding. Easy.

As a verb, waiting means more than the simple things. Why not simple?

To remain inactive. It means waking up to a quiet morning, and sobbing up my head underneath the sheets for another hour or two. It means summing up all the positions I can have at the sofa while I try my best to focus on the fifth movie of the day. It's listening to a song on auto repeat for hours. It's sitting at the dining table, chewing slowly, till the food is cold. It's wanting to leave, but the only option is to stay.

It's a state of repose, but the moments in between the waiting is actually agitating. When it's still and quiet, it's the time when my mind can't be at peace. Sometimes, faking a busy mode just makes me feel a little more restless. Thoughts of everybody near and far, of feelings suppressed, of the past, of tomorrow, of the days after today. It's closing the eyes but heavily breathing at worries, expecting of something to happen but not really knowing if it will.

It's looking forward to something eagerly, with a heart not really believing what is to come because it is afraid to be disappointed. It's a risk of anticipating something that might not happen or come. And, of course, the danger of stupid fall if my try becomes a failure.

Waiting is absolutely distressing, inconvenient, and annoying. I hope I don't get used to it, or it will drag me into a kingdom of isolation.


Prayers.

A Letter for You. ;)

    This post is inspired by that romantic movie I have seen. In the movie, the lady saved a letter at a certain website, to be automatically emailed to the recipient at a set time in the future. I don't know you yet, but this one is written for YOU. On the day we face the altar.
     Hi! By the time that I read you this letter, rest assured that I am no longer in doubt of the recipient.
   
So it's true. When you find the one, it's like all the other souls are invisible. I won't question why you are in here just now. I won't say that you are late. I call today the perfect timing of God. Maybe, if we have known each other prior to when we've actually met, then it might not have ended up to the altar.
     After the long wait, I feel blessed to have finally found you. Thank you for finding me. I have so much love in my heart and I promise it will be yours every day of our life time. I'm not the best cook, but I'm sure I can work on it if that would put a smile on your face every day. I hope we live everyday with faith and loyalty to God's providence. I am certain that we can get through rough situations with HIS presence. We will celebrate every blessing from HIM, and share it if we can.
   
     You are someone sent to be with me forever. And I am yours. You can be secure of my loyalty. I can assure you that I'll take time to remind myself everyday to make you feel loved.
    With the long years of waiting, I have always been anxious of the future. Now that you're here, I am excited for every sunrise. And every evening dinner will be a date.
      In time we may be blessed with kids. I want you to play with them, teach them what's right.            We will celebrate monthsaries, like what we do as lovers. Just make sure to save all of my lil somethings. Promise you won't get bored with them.
Thank you for your gift of love. Iloveyou today and I am excited to love you for each and every day of the future.

Crossed fingers. :/ God, I hope I can read this in your time. Thanks.
You hold my hand. I'll be fine. ;)

Hopes and Prayers.

   

The Journey Continues

           "She learned to live gracefully at every stop. And before she knew that it's time to leave, she'd already arrived at a new one."
            It was eleven years ago. I left home with the thought that my life is a journey. Whether the sailing will be smooth or rough was something I had charged to the future. I had one goal in mind- to succeed. How much time was needed for that success was something I did not anticipate. I just knew that I'll be there, no matter how slow, for as long as I don't stop.
           I was seventeen. I completed a year in College and never doubted my ability to live independently. I joined a group of strangers called Top1. It was a sailing full of hopes and frustrations. After over a year, it left me with the latter, and sent me home empty handed. I saw my sail ripping in half that it turned me down. I learned to take caution.
           I was nineteen and I stopped at a place in Manila where I can fix my sail. It was hard work, but entailed less approval from the world. The friends I had mended my heart from frustrations. The experience taught me courage.
           I was twenty when my sail was tossed by a bumpy wave. The providence I have had from the previous stop was lost. I found myself working even harder. It was like being cast away at an island. I had to learn everything that would keep me from sailing again. I made a new sail out persistence; hardy slept, worked until night. After all the difficulty, I had built a new sail and it kept me sailing smoothly for the next five years where blessings shined on me. I learned determination.
           I was twenty-five when I saw a brighter stop. I completed my College Education. I then met people who gave me bigger sails. The wind blew calmly and the waves weren't a bother to my sailing anymore. I became a teacher. I learned self worth.
           I am twenty eight. Some may say that I had been sailing too slow. I don't care. Each stop gives me life's greatest lessons that I keep with me, no matter where this journey leads me to. I am in the perfect care of my Creator. At the end of this stop is another wonderful gift; success is just a consolation.