From my open window, I could hear the neighbor's kids shrieking, playing like it's five in the afternoon. With eyes partly open, I sluggishly reached for my phone on the side of the bed. The digital clock on the main panel flashed 1:48. It's 1:48… in the morning.
"Crap," I muttered (but I might have said something different).
In an attempt to drown out the annoying sounds and resume my sleep, I covered the side of my face with a pillow and closed my eyes. I tried to think of nothing but my mind drifted to thoughts of how my previous day went:
It was a rather ordinary day. I woke up the usual time, had my customary hot pan de sal and coffee for breakfast, did my regular work out routine (notice the redundancy), juggled calls, meetings and tens of deliverables, had lunch at the same old place while discussing the same old topic (which is love and the lack thereof) and worked some more. I went home a few past five, had dinner with mom and slept at around 7:30 PM, which I suppose is the only thing new in my otherwise standard day (sleep time’s around 9 PM).
And which, again, I suppose, is the reason why I'm awake right now.
"Crap," I whispered (though I said a different word, still).
This isn't how it should be. Life shouldn't be ordinary and I shouldn't be satisfied with keeping my head slightly above water just to say that I can get through it.
I am nowhere, and I am a non-entity.
I tell you that survival under this circumstance is a much harder struggle than say, a ride in life's outrageous roller coaster. I miss it. I miss the feeling of being sick with fear and anticipation on the way up, and the exhilarating thrill of screaming while coming down.
I need to wake up from this stupor. I have already wasted enough resources, limited and precious ones to boot. So later when I literally wake up, I need to find something that I can look forward to. Perhaps, some crazy/beautiful because life is too short to be safe; it is too short to be ordinary.
After what felt like an eternity, I opened one eye and checked the time. It was three after two and I haven't made any progress.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Monday, March 29, 2010
Friday, March 26, 2010
less blue, less green
This morning, a friend and I had a forty-seven minute talk on the phone and of the many topics that our initial subject has branched out to, one lingered in my head far longer than it should have:
"He'll always have a special place in my heart."
I remember my friend saying.
While walking along Ayala Avenue to find a good place to eat, I found myself multi-tasking – juggling between having a casual chat with the Prince and replaying that one line.
"He'll always have a special place in my heart."
I remember thinking that it was a very nice thing for my friend to say. Sweet, actually. I hold in high regard those who can express how much they value others who matter, in one way or another, to them.
But for some reason, I felt a pang of envy. Not jealousy, mind you for there's a world of difference between the two.
I envy He for having someone like my friend.
I envy He because really, regardless of the speaker, with that kind of predicate, who wouldn't want to be the subject?
Plus, I have relegated myself to limbo for the time being and that's usually when the yearning is most intense.
My train of thought was cut short by the Prince's sudden statement, "Speaking of Ateneo... Mak, may sasabihin ako sa'yo... since you're one of the few people in the whole world that I really trust..."
Suddenly, everything seemed a little less green. Inside, I smiled. It feels good to be trusted. After all, it's a far greater compliment than to be loved.
"He'll always have a special place in my heart."
I remember my friend saying.
While walking along Ayala Avenue to find a good place to eat, I found myself multi-tasking – juggling between having a casual chat with the Prince and replaying that one line.
"He'll always have a special place in my heart."
I remember thinking that it was a very nice thing for my friend to say. Sweet, actually. I hold in high regard those who can express how much they value others who matter, in one way or another, to them.
But for some reason, I felt a pang of envy. Not jealousy, mind you for there's a world of difference between the two.
I envy He for having someone like my friend.
I envy He because really, regardless of the speaker, with that kind of predicate, who wouldn't want to be the subject?
Plus, I have relegated myself to limbo for the time being and that's usually when the yearning is most intense.
My train of thought was cut short by the Prince's sudden statement, "Speaking of Ateneo... Mak, may sasabihin ako sa'yo... since you're one of the few people in the whole world that I really trust..."
Suddenly, everything seemed a little less green. Inside, I smiled. It feels good to be trusted. After all, it's a far greater compliment than to be loved.
thank you for the heartbreak
So what do you do when somebody you once highly looked upon let out to a clique that there's nothing remotely likeable about you and it seems that he doesn't have a clue of the pain and rejection you'll go through as soon as the news reaches you
(and it will; in this small, small world, it most certainly will)?
A colleague said she'll confront him and say, "How dare you! You don't even know me well enough to make that judgment."
Another remarked that she'll probably break down and cry.
I said that I would banish that person from my life and walk away with my head up high and fully aware that I am very much likeable, rant about it to my best friends until I get tired of hearing my own whining, seek the company of those who make me feel special, and pray not only that I come out of the sad situation a stronger and better person, but be the clear winner between the two of us, should our paths ever cross again
(because it will; the universe is conniving like that).
(and it will; in this small, small world, it most certainly will)?
A colleague said she'll confront him and say, "How dare you! You don't even know me well enough to make that judgment."
Another remarked that she'll probably break down and cry.
I said that I would banish that person from my life and walk away with my head up high and fully aware that I am very much likeable, rant about it to my best friends until I get tired of hearing my own whining, seek the company of those who make me feel special, and pray not only that I come out of the sad situation a stronger and better person, but be the clear winner between the two of us, should our paths ever cross again
(because it will; the universe is conniving like that).
Thursday, March 25, 2010
sila, na perfect
Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me.
Remember this old playground mantra that our elders taught us? Who the heck were they kidding? Obviously, anyone who stands by this could be totally impervious to emotion, has never been verbally abused, or he's just an outright idiot. The truth is words hurt a lot more than those damned sticks and stones.
Considered as one of the most powerful tools at man's disposal, words can heal and uplift when used in the right context. When brandished as a weapon, reckless words are just as efficient as the deadliest gun or as piercing as the sharpest sword. Sans bloodshed, a few syllables can crush a person, scar his spirit, break his esteem and leave him tormented for life. A few well spoken words can annihilate.
This was my take away from last Sunday's homily. It was rather timely as well, to hear of the adulteress and the whole "let-him-who-is-without-sin-cast-the-first-stone" story. Fortunately, by sheer luck, I chanced upon a minister who managed to stir my then idle head. More than the attempt of stoning, the priest emphasized the shame hurled by those righteous Pharisees at the woman.
At a point in time, in some form or another, we have been at the adulteress' footwear. We have been the victim of those who are used to speaking without thinking, or worse, those who hide behind the right of speech to say what they want, without regard to the pain, damage and stigma that they inflict on someone else.
The tongue only speaks what comes from the heart, they say and if it comes from the heart then it must be true. However, it should be clearly understood that honesty is and will never be an excuse for rudeness and cruelty.
It is not okay to intimidate people. It is not okay to make fun of others. It is not okay to threaten, embarrass or attempt to control, manipulate and demean anyone.
It is never okay to just let bullies run around unchecked.
Remember this old playground mantra that our elders taught us? Who the heck were they kidding? Obviously, anyone who stands by this could be totally impervious to emotion, has never been verbally abused, or he's just an outright idiot. The truth is words hurt a lot more than those damned sticks and stones.
Considered as one of the most powerful tools at man's disposal, words can heal and uplift when used in the right context. When brandished as a weapon, reckless words are just as efficient as the deadliest gun or as piercing as the sharpest sword. Sans bloodshed, a few syllables can crush a person, scar his spirit, break his esteem and leave him tormented for life. A few well spoken words can annihilate.
This was my take away from last Sunday's homily. It was rather timely as well, to hear of the adulteress and the whole "let-him-who-is-without-sin-cast-the-first-stone" story. Fortunately, by sheer luck, I chanced upon a minister who managed to stir my then idle head. More than the attempt of stoning, the priest emphasized the shame hurled by those righteous Pharisees at the woman.
At a point in time, in some form or another, we have been at the adulteress' footwear. We have been the victim of those who are used to speaking without thinking, or worse, those who hide behind the right of speech to say what they want, without regard to the pain, damage and stigma that they inflict on someone else.
The tongue only speaks what comes from the heart, they say and if it comes from the heart then it must be true. However, it should be clearly understood that honesty is and will never be an excuse for rudeness and cruelty.
It is not okay to intimidate people. It is not okay to make fun of others. It is not okay to threaten, embarrass or attempt to control, manipulate and demean anyone.
It is never okay to just let bullies run around unchecked.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
what makes a good sermon
Prior to being ordained as full-fledged priests, do seminarians take a subject that teaches them how to give out homilies? I've always wondered. Is it like an English class where they need to speak impromptu about a certain passage? Do they need to achieve a certain standard before they can pass the course? Really, I'm just wondering because it feels like I have been deprived of salvation, or at the very least, a life lesson when priests deliver sermons that fall flat of what should be. Or when it goes on and on and on and on, when in fact a homily, as per Vatican, should only be for at most eight minutes.
A homily is, far and away, the single most important source of information on faith so it should be something that resonates with such, something that will make the congregation want to go a little deeper and connect with the basics with utmost honesty. To achieve that, homilies should be engaging and pretty much, relatable – something that tackles things that are meaningful for everyday life. As its end-all, be-all goal, homilies should make people who are coming out of the church realize that they have just been touched by grace.
To be completely honest, nowadays, good sermons, much like anything else that is preceded by the word good, are hard to come by.
A homily is, far and away, the single most important source of information on faith so it should be something that resonates with such, something that will make the congregation want to go a little deeper and connect with the basics with utmost honesty. To achieve that, homilies should be engaging and pretty much, relatable – something that tackles things that are meaningful for everyday life. As its end-all, be-all goal, homilies should make people who are coming out of the church realize that they have just been touched by grace.
To be completely honest, nowadays, good sermons, much like anything else that is preceded by the word good, are hard to come by.
Monday, March 22, 2010
sweet surrender
i.
My mom and I had an argument Friday morning over Percy Jackson.
After breakfast, I noticed a tattered Titan's Curse inside my brother's bag. While feeling sorry for the book, it suddenly dawned on me to check my stack for my own copy. I raced upstairs and upon rummaging through my pile, I realized that I couldn't find mine. The worn out copy in my brother's bag, the one with slightly folded cover and torn edges, was indeed mine. As I'm still not on speaking terms with my dearest brother, my mom ended up being on the receiving end of my annoyance.
It came to the point when I said, "Don't bother! I'm just going to buy a new one" which triggered a litany from my mom.
"Ganyan kasi kayong lumaking magkapatid," she said referring to the point that I, more often than not, refuse to let my brother use any of my stuff.
I was halfway out the door but I just couldn’t stop myself. I turned around and said, "Ganyan niyo kasi ako pinalaki di ba? Maingat sa gamit. Masinop. Tingnan niyo nga yung mga gamit ko nung bata pa ko, andiyan pa lahat. Eh yung mga dumaan sa kamay niya, asan? Wala na di ba? Nasira na niya lahat."
Then I walked out eager to get away from the mess, oblivious that I'll be in a bigger one before the day ends.
ii.
It was a hot Saturday afternoon. I was in my room, half-asleep on my bed lulled by the droning sound of the television. It was airing a local celebrity talk show that I never really paid attention to as I was keen on getting some shut eye. But it was so hot that my attempt to sleep proved futile. Instead, I turned towards the show and there was Toni Rose Gayda expressing her sentiments about the recent demise of her 27-year-old son.
"Sabi ko nga, sa Panginoon, nagpapasalamat ako na pinahiram niya si James sa akin ng 27 years. Thank you, thank you for the wonderful blessing," she said.
Her words struck a chord in me. Surely, there's nothing more heartbreaking for a mother to bury her own son. That's just not the way it should be. But there she was, speaking before the entire populace, handling the entire situation with utmost grace and composure; it was astounding for a woman who just lost a son of 27 years.
It was an eye opener. Shame on me if I can't show the same kind of bravery and acceptance on my own misfortunes.
iii.
Regardless of the precept that everything we've been bestowed with and everyone that we've been blessed to have should be well taken care of and valued, there come times, in the context of life, that we should learn to let go.
Rather than fight life and its inevitable changes, I should accept that there are variables that are beyond my control. I should be at peace with "what is".
So let me be like the mother to her son.
Let me let go - of that battered book that my brother borrowed without my permission, or those Lego blocks that he lost when he was younger, or generally how he was raised differently by my folks.
Let me let go of all the losses and hurt, and not the people behind it - people whom I have birthed good memories with, people who, in some way, became lessons that I needed to learn - for this surrender is not tantamount to abandonment.
Let me be brave enough to do this; true freedom only comes when you learn to let go.
After all, there's nothing left to try but yearn for my liberty.
My mom and I had an argument Friday morning over Percy Jackson.
After breakfast, I noticed a tattered Titan's Curse inside my brother's bag. While feeling sorry for the book, it suddenly dawned on me to check my stack for my own copy. I raced upstairs and upon rummaging through my pile, I realized that I couldn't find mine. The worn out copy in my brother's bag, the one with slightly folded cover and torn edges, was indeed mine. As I'm still not on speaking terms with my dearest brother, my mom ended up being on the receiving end of my annoyance.
It came to the point when I said, "Don't bother! I'm just going to buy a new one" which triggered a litany from my mom.
"Ganyan kasi kayong lumaking magkapatid," she said referring to the point that I, more often than not, refuse to let my brother use any of my stuff.
I was halfway out the door but I just couldn’t stop myself. I turned around and said, "Ganyan niyo kasi ako pinalaki di ba? Maingat sa gamit. Masinop. Tingnan niyo nga yung mga gamit ko nung bata pa ko, andiyan pa lahat. Eh yung mga dumaan sa kamay niya, asan? Wala na di ba? Nasira na niya lahat."
Then I walked out eager to get away from the mess, oblivious that I'll be in a bigger one before the day ends.
ii.
It was a hot Saturday afternoon. I was in my room, half-asleep on my bed lulled by the droning sound of the television. It was airing a local celebrity talk show that I never really paid attention to as I was keen on getting some shut eye. But it was so hot that my attempt to sleep proved futile. Instead, I turned towards the show and there was Toni Rose Gayda expressing her sentiments about the recent demise of her 27-year-old son.
"Sabi ko nga, sa Panginoon, nagpapasalamat ako na pinahiram niya si James sa akin ng 27 years. Thank you, thank you for the wonderful blessing," she said.
Her words struck a chord in me. Surely, there's nothing more heartbreaking for a mother to bury her own son. That's just not the way it should be. But there she was, speaking before the entire populace, handling the entire situation with utmost grace and composure; it was astounding for a woman who just lost a son of 27 years.
It was an eye opener. Shame on me if I can't show the same kind of bravery and acceptance on my own misfortunes.
iii.
Regardless of the precept that everything we've been bestowed with and everyone that we've been blessed to have should be well taken care of and valued, there come times, in the context of life, that we should learn to let go.
Rather than fight life and its inevitable changes, I should accept that there are variables that are beyond my control. I should be at peace with "what is".
So let me be like the mother to her son.
Let me let go - of that battered book that my brother borrowed without my permission, or those Lego blocks that he lost when he was younger, or generally how he was raised differently by my folks.
Let me let go of all the losses and hurt, and not the people behind it - people whom I have birthed good memories with, people who, in some way, became lessons that I needed to learn - for this surrender is not tantamount to abandonment.
Let me be brave enough to do this; true freedom only comes when you learn to let go.
After all, there's nothing left to try but yearn for my liberty.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
messiah complex
"Come on, tell me."
The dearest officemate kept silent for a moment before saying, "Wala rin eh."
"Me too," I said. "That's what I've been thinking of these past few days."
"Maliban sa'yo," she added with a hint of a smile.
"I know, I know," I shrugged. "But it's true. Nasabi ko naman na sa'yo yun, right? For as long as I can remember, I've always had this... I don't know if it's the right word but, this nagging feeling that I'm meant for greatness. That I'm somehow different. Not above anyone else though. Just different."
The waiter then came to serve our lunch. Per usual, I looked at his name plate before asking, "JR, may we ask for some pepper?" He nodded as he said yes. I smiled. He left and the dearest officemate and I went back to our discussion.
"It's funny because you really don't talk about these things to just about anyone. I mean you wouldn't want to sound delusional, or worse, mentally unstable, right? Sa'yo ko lang nasabi 'to and kay Striker, and that was like years back."
JR came back with the pepper. I thanked him as I handed it to the dearest officemate who prefers her food loaded with pepper. Just like I do, sometimes.
"Anyway, the thing is, hindi lahat ng tao may ganitong nararamdaman. To me, parang na-validate lang yung idea that this desire or notion that you're bound for greater things is what distinguishes the extra special from everyone else. Siyempre, lahat naman tayo special. Pero not everyone can be a scientist. Not everyone can be a rock star. Not everyone can be a hero. Sure, we're all capable of effecting change but maybe those who successfully do have that warm, fuzzy confidence, that prior, unadulterated knowledge that they were meant to do just that."
"I don't know if I'm making any sense," I said as I sprinkled pepper on my lasagna. "But her words got me thinking. It's not so much of what the future holds for me. Hindi ko na nga maalala yung details ng sinabi niya. It's more of her validation of who I am. It kind of gave me a newfound sense of direction. Now I know I'm not delusional. Crazy lang, for believing her. This is your fault," I said chuckling.
"Uy, grabe ka," she said. "Yung mga sinabi niya sa akin hindi naman generalized yun eh kaya nga medyo creepy. She knew things that only I know or kahit yung mga bagay na nakukuwento ko sa'yo about my husband. Impossible talaga, Mak."
I agreed.
"Pero hindi naman niya na-interpret yung tungkol sa panaginip ko no," she added.
"But she did," I objected.
The dearest officemate kept silent for a moment before saying, "Wala rin eh."
"Me too," I said. "That's what I've been thinking of these past few days."
"Maliban sa'yo," she added with a hint of a smile.
"I know, I know," I shrugged. "But it's true. Nasabi ko naman na sa'yo yun, right? For as long as I can remember, I've always had this... I don't know if it's the right word but, this nagging feeling that I'm meant for greatness. That I'm somehow different. Not above anyone else though. Just different."
The waiter then came to serve our lunch. Per usual, I looked at his name plate before asking, "JR, may we ask for some pepper?" He nodded as he said yes. I smiled. He left and the dearest officemate and I went back to our discussion.
"It's funny because you really don't talk about these things to just about anyone. I mean you wouldn't want to sound delusional, or worse, mentally unstable, right? Sa'yo ko lang nasabi 'to and kay Striker, and that was like years back."
JR came back with the pepper. I thanked him as I handed it to the dearest officemate who prefers her food loaded with pepper. Just like I do, sometimes.
"Anyway, the thing is, hindi lahat ng tao may ganitong nararamdaman. To me, parang na-validate lang yung idea that this desire or notion that you're bound for greater things is what distinguishes the extra special from everyone else. Siyempre, lahat naman tayo special. Pero not everyone can be a scientist. Not everyone can be a rock star. Not everyone can be a hero. Sure, we're all capable of effecting change but maybe those who successfully do have that warm, fuzzy confidence, that prior, unadulterated knowledge that they were meant to do just that."
"I don't know if I'm making any sense," I said as I sprinkled pepper on my lasagna. "But her words got me thinking. It's not so much of what the future holds for me. Hindi ko na nga maalala yung details ng sinabi niya. It's more of her validation of who I am. It kind of gave me a newfound sense of direction. Now I know I'm not delusional. Crazy lang, for believing her. This is your fault," I said chuckling.
"Uy, grabe ka," she said. "Yung mga sinabi niya sa akin hindi naman generalized yun eh kaya nga medyo creepy. She knew things that only I know or kahit yung mga bagay na nakukuwento ko sa'yo about my husband. Impossible talaga, Mak."
I agreed.
"Pero hindi naman niya na-interpret yung tungkol sa panaginip ko no," she added.
"But she did," I objected.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
messiah complex: genesis
Tell me, how many people do you know have, in some way, confided in you that they feel like that are meant for greatness?
How about you? Have you ever felt that way? Have you ever, in the most immaculate way, believed that you are meant to do something extraordinary, that you are special?
Let me make it clear though. It should not be a case of egotism, nor of delusion. It's more of a conscious pull to be influential, that righteous knowledge that you are to be more than a footnote or a statistic in the annals of history.
I have been thinking about it an awful lot since Friday. Let me tell you. I came up with none. Can you imagine that? None among my peers! I have to say that zero has never been more bittersweet of a number.
So that's why I would really like to know from your end.
Come on. Tell me.
It'll be our little secret.
How about you? Have you ever felt that way? Have you ever, in the most immaculate way, believed that you are meant to do something extraordinary, that you are special?
Let me make it clear though. It should not be a case of egotism, nor of delusion. It's more of a conscious pull to be influential, that righteous knowledge that you are to be more than a footnote or a statistic in the annals of history.
I have been thinking about it an awful lot since Friday. Let me tell you. I came up with none. Can you imagine that? None among my peers! I have to say that zero has never been more bittersweet of a number.
So that's why I would really like to know from your end.
Come on. Tell me.
It'll be our little secret.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
second coming
"Krus ang nakikita ko sa iyo," the elderly woman said. "More than faith, heart ang sinisimbolo niyan. Damdamin. Emotions."
I listened as she went on.
"Napansin mo ba na lapitin ka ng tao? You are drawn to people who need your help. Ganoon din naman sila. They're drawn to you to seek help in whatever form that you can give. Madali kang makagawa ng connection dahil by nature, empathic ka. It's your gift. You are a healer. A fixer of things, and in this case, mga tao. You uplift spirits, mend relationships, unite groups at kung anu-ano pa. Sige, isipin mo."
She smiled before continuing, "Much as your heart is your most powerful asset, yun din ang greatest weakness mo. Masyado kang mabait."
I tried to suppress my laughter as I stole a quick look at the dearest officemate whom I asked several days ago what, in her opinion, my greatest flaw is. Quickly, she answered, "Masyado kang mabait."
"Binibigay mo lahat-lahat at wala kang tinitira sa sarili mo. Suwerte ang mamahalin mo." This elicited bouts of laughter from our end. It was cut short though as the lady went on, "Hindi lahat ng tao na kilala mo deserve your trust. Iyan ang magiging downfall mo kaya mag-ingat."
"You're already an old soul. Sa lifetime na ito, tulad ng karamihan ng past lives mo, you are to take the high road. It's the path that you will end up choosing. Don't worry, you won't be alone. Magkaka-partner ka. Pihikan ka lang kasi. Madami diyang humahanga sa'yo. Pati nga lalake nagkakagusto eh," she said with a barely noticeable grin. "Basta huwag kang matakot masaktan. Takot ka eh."
"Hindi naman!" I said defensively.
I listened as she went on.
"Napansin mo ba na lapitin ka ng tao? You are drawn to people who need your help. Ganoon din naman sila. They're drawn to you to seek help in whatever form that you can give. Madali kang makagawa ng connection dahil by nature, empathic ka. It's your gift. You are a healer. A fixer of things, and in this case, mga tao. You uplift spirits, mend relationships, unite groups at kung anu-ano pa. Sige, isipin mo."
She smiled before continuing, "Much as your heart is your most powerful asset, yun din ang greatest weakness mo. Masyado kang mabait."
I tried to suppress my laughter as I stole a quick look at the dearest officemate whom I asked several days ago what, in her opinion, my greatest flaw is. Quickly, she answered, "Masyado kang mabait."
"Binibigay mo lahat-lahat at wala kang tinitira sa sarili mo. Suwerte ang mamahalin mo." This elicited bouts of laughter from our end. It was cut short though as the lady went on, "Hindi lahat ng tao na kilala mo deserve your trust. Iyan ang magiging downfall mo kaya mag-ingat."
"You're already an old soul. Sa lifetime na ito, tulad ng karamihan ng past lives mo, you are to take the high road. It's the path that you will end up choosing. Don't worry, you won't be alone. Magkaka-partner ka. Pihikan ka lang kasi. Madami diyang humahanga sa'yo. Pati nga lalake nagkakagusto eh," she said with a barely noticeable grin. "Basta huwag kang matakot masaktan. Takot ka eh."
"Hindi naman!" I said defensively.
She went on to talk about the recent flame and why it didn't work out. Then she asked, "O bakit gusto mong kumuha ng isa pang course?"
Whoa. I am in awe.
"Tuloy mo yung plano mo. Bored ka na sa trabaho mo pero huwag ka munang umalis. Hindi yang ang path mo pero you are where you are needed. Yun mga plano mong byahe, mangyayari yun. Hindi ka mamumuhay sa ibang bansa. Gala ka eh. Madaling pumasok sa'yo ang pera, pero madali ding lumabas. Parte yan nung pagiging sobrang mapagbigay mo. Mabibigay mo lahat ng kailangan ng pamilya mo pero magtira ka rin sa sarili mo. Matagal ka pang mabubuhay. Ingat lang sa lungs. Hindi ka naman naninigarilyo."
"Hindi po." I answered not realizing that I wasn't even asked.
"Pulmonya. Ang daming lamig sa dibdib mo," she said while placing her hand a few inches away from my body.
The dearest officemate shot me a knowing look. For weeks now, she has been nagging me to visit the company clinic to have the doctor check up on my cough and chest pain.
"Maganda ang 2010 mo, pero paghahanda lang yan dahil ang suwerte mo talaga ay sa 2011 pa," she concluded. "Yung hobby mo. Nagsusulat ka. Huwag mong itigil."
Whoa. I am in awe.
"Tuloy mo yung plano mo. Bored ka na sa trabaho mo pero huwag ka munang umalis. Hindi yang ang path mo pero you are where you are needed. Yun mga plano mong byahe, mangyayari yun. Hindi ka mamumuhay sa ibang bansa. Gala ka eh. Madaling pumasok sa'yo ang pera, pero madali ding lumabas. Parte yan nung pagiging sobrang mapagbigay mo. Mabibigay mo lahat ng kailangan ng pamilya mo pero magtira ka rin sa sarili mo. Matagal ka pang mabubuhay. Ingat lang sa lungs. Hindi ka naman naninigarilyo."
"Hindi po." I answered not realizing that I wasn't even asked.
"Pulmonya. Ang daming lamig sa dibdib mo," she said while placing her hand a few inches away from my body.
The dearest officemate shot me a knowing look. For weeks now, she has been nagging me to visit the company clinic to have the doctor check up on my cough and chest pain.
"Maganda ang 2010 mo, pero paghahanda lang yan dahil ang suwerte mo talaga ay sa 2011 pa," she concluded. "Yung hobby mo. Nagsusulat ka. Huwag mong itigil."
I wasn't planning to. I needed a few days down to recuperate. I have broken myself into tiny fragments in the hope that in time, I can put them back together so I can become whole again. Perhaps, stronger, untainted and free.
This time around, I am coming back with guns a blazing.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)