Friday, October 14, 2022

Dear Danie

 Dear Danie, 


I've already stopped asking why. After several deaths in the family, I have stopped asking why. Besides, they have not been helpful - like why would a 24-year old be killed in cold blood under a presumed drug war or a mother who seemed to be recovering from cancer died anyway. See, they do not help. Not even asking God why helps, because when the world does not make sense, the only thing left to make sense is faith. 

So, when I heard of your passing, I did not ask why. I just asked what happened. Your beloved Aya has been born to the world, we were more worried about her than you because you seemed fine, until you weren't and then you were gone. Some things even science can't explain. There is no why to death, it just is. Everyone dies, some earlier than others, some in freak accidents, and some in senseless bloodlust. I have stopped asking why. 

They say all people die, but not everyone lives but girl, YOU LIVED. I don't think I've seen anyone who is as brave (and perhaps, close to reckless) as you. You wanted to surf so you did. You wanted to try new things so you did. You were not afraid to bet your heart and try again when it broke. I think, this above all, makes you you. My heart is the last one I'd put on the betting table - I may even be more willing to bet my life than to bet my heart. But you, my girl, did both and you did it well. 

Look at the lives you've touched, and the lives you've made alive by your presence, and the life you bore. In your short 32 years, the zest of life you exuded made me believe you'd live forever. But it was not to be so. 

We said we'll go on another girl's trip when things settle down and when the money comes, but it looks like, that trip will have to wait until we all meet again at some point in the future. 

I cannot regret nor resent the way you died nor even be greedy of why your life seemed short. For some reason, I was just grateful - grateful to have known you, grateful that before you have moved on to the next chapter, that I got to meet you and got to call you friend. 

Thank you. Thank you for that. 

"The Lord giveth, the Lord taketh away. Blessed be the name of the Lord." 

I have been given you in this life. Blessed be the name of the Lord. God has called you home and one day, we too, will be called home. Blessed be the name of the Lord. And really, I can't help but feel just grateful and blessed that in this lifetime, our lives have intersected. Blessed be the name of the Lord.

It has been an honor and pleasure, Surfer Girl. 

You were always an adventurer, Danie girl. I guess God has better waves for you to catch in heaven. Surf on. 


Love,

Ciara 

Penang, Malaysia 2017


Friday, September 23, 2022

The Things I Used to Be

 I used to have it all. 

Well, not really. 

But I used to think and feel as though everything is achievable and isn't that quite the same as having it all. For a moment in time, all things are possible and if I just put my mind to it, they will be mine. 

But the years and the journey were difficult. I have mourned the loss of past selves, and have tried celebrating the new ones that arose and yet, I missed them. 

When I was in college, I mourned the loss of my bubbly friendly self. It seemed harder to make friends in college than it was in high school, but I also mourned the fizzling of high school friendships. 

When I graduated, I mourned the loss of my bright-eyed self who was ready to conquer the world. 

When I got my Master's degree and started on a new job, I mourned the loss of my secure and intelligent self. To note, I did not feel all that intelligent or secure until my world tumbled then I realized that I used to be intelligent and secure-ish. 

When I was nearing my 30s, I mourned the loss of my fearless laughter. Death has made it cautious. 

When I have reached my 30s, I mourned the loss of my go-getter self - the one who despite all odds, can grit her teeth and bear it and just make it happen. 

I am still mourning. 

With blighted hopes and not-yet dreams, and delays upon delays, I question and doubt if some of the things I held on to are still worth holding - and yet they remain. 

I am not sure if they are meant to be ghosts to haunt me or goal posts to remind me to keep on. 

In the loss of all my past selves, I have thought that they, too, would go away, and sometimes, I had wished them to go away for they ache and ache still. 

Except I do not have the confidence to meet them - not like I used to. I had not feared the costs before, I had been willing to pay, but now, I have paid too much and am in debt. I had been willing to be scarred, and now, I have been scarred too much. I have battle scars on battle scars, and scabs and callouses and yet, I remind my little heart to keep beating, to not let itself be numb for it still has people to love. I remind my little hands to open up and keep working, for they still have people to serve. 

I remind them that there is still beauty in this world. I remind them that some delays are just pullbacks getting ready for that trajectory. I remind them of the Dream Giver who does not set people up for failure. 

I think of my past selves. I, sometimes, mourn them. And yet, I know, that they will not be equipped to meet the challenges I am meeting now. They have led me to this place. They were necessary but I needed to grow out of them too. 

I miss the times of my wide-eyed wonder, can-do attitude, but I appreciate the nuances I know now - the more compassionate, empathetic, and grounded attitude. 

I may mourn still and yet, I still hope.  

Tuesday, August 17, 2021

A conversation

1: There are a few things worse than pain. 

2: Like what?

1: Death

2: Death? But death is a welcomed reprieve from pain and suffering. Death is not worse, death is a comfort. 

1: No, I mean the death of pain. The death of pain is worse than pain when you still exist. 

2: How so?

1: When you feel pain, you know something is not right, and that something must be done, that there must be something more than this. 

2: And you think that's preferable than not feeling pain at all? No one likes pain though. 

1: And yet all growth is painful. And growth is necessary. It is still better to feel pain than none at all. To not feel pain while breathing is to not have lived while living. Is it not so?

2: Then why live at all if all it has is pain? 

1: Oh no. We do not live to feel pain, we feel pain because we live. In a broken world with broken people, it is inevitable that we feel and cause pain. Yet, people are still worth knowing beyond that, aren't they? 

2: I guess. Then why don't we just choose physical death, to just end it all? 

1: Even death does not spare others of pain, even ourselves. There will be those who will mourn us, and we, if after death, can we truly say we do not have regrets? Perhaps, it is better to die, knowing you have tried to live well. 

2: And so you conclude? 

1: I will try again, even if it may possibly be painful. Yes, I will try again.  

Those Days...

There are days when it seems that

the heart beats ever so slow

until it stops.

Breathe.

That the instruments play but

there is 

no music

That you sing but

there is 

no 

song

You want to curl up and wait

Seeing your light, flame, life leave the body

until it is

stone cold

Death seems like a comfort

but death would not come 

And you have to wake up again 

the next day

And hope and pray to God to reignite

the Spark

to keep on living

Better days are ahead

Better days are ahead

Better days will come

They must.


***

Take heart

Let His love lead us through the night

Hold on to hope

Take courage again

- Take Heart, Hillsong 

Sunday, June 6, 2021

Farting Around in the Dark

August 10, 2009 - I turned 20. I was most excited about this birthday because having the tens digit change felt like transitioning to adulthood. Officially, I was no longer  a teen, and in a while, graduating from college. What will the world beyond me look like? Do I have what it takes? So many choices, so many possibilities…


…Until there was none. Graduation day came and I have nothing. No plans. No roadmap. No answer to the question that has pestered me for several weeks, “what will you do?” What now? We were taught to write CVs in college. We were told to attend conferences and workshops so that we can “bulk up” our CV. We were lectured on concepts and laboratory skills, and there I was, a graduate, knowing the central dogma of life and how to manipulate it but entirely clueless on the first thing to do with a job hunt. 


A lot of my peers went to med school, and for the first time, I dearly hoped I succumbed to external pressure of taking the NMAT and applying to med school. At least, I would have an answer to “what will you do now?” I do not have to “think” of what I will do next and feel responsible for ruining the rest of my life. However, that ship has sailed, and for the life of me, it was so clear that I did not want to be a doctor. I wanted to go into research, but how does a career in research look like? Where do you start? Where were the openings, the job fairs, the “research opportunities”? 


I was at point A. I knew my point B. I had a clear picture in my head of what I wanted to become, what I wanted to do. I wanted to do worthwhile research, I wanted to have my own lab, but how does one get there from being a fresh graduate? The chasm seemed so wide and the bridge cannot be found. If I were to build a bridge myself, where do I start? 


As luck or Providence would have it, an opening was posted for a research position at the Marine Science Institute. I’m not into marine research but it did say “drug discovery” so maybe it can work. Besides, the other option was being unemployed, jobless, with low self-esteem, and nothing to show for, so, there I went. At least, it was something sure, right? I was hired in a jiffy because the previous research assistant was leaving soon for graduate school and I found myself shoved into the unknown. Again. 


When a TED speaker said that research was like “farting around in the dark”, I couldn’t agree more. Because there I was, in the dark, both in research and in life, trying to figure out answers to questions that were not clear, devising methods to get to those answers which may or may not work. What must I do, then? I told myself, “Let’s keep moving. Somewhere, there is a tunnel of light, and you are young yet, you will figure things out, and when you’re older, you will have figured them out.”


Hah! What naivety! What idealism! Little did I know I was going to be shoved in the dark for several times more after that - when a project ended and I had to find a new job, when I had to take on a job as an administrative assistant, when I had to do freelance tutoring while waiting for the next thing, when I had to quit a “job abroad,” when I finished graduate school and found no place to take me in, when I went into teaching despite having no background in education, and when I had to have something published otherwise I’m “out.” 


They said disappointment hurts, but that time, during the unknowns, the unsures and in-betweens, having hope hurt more. I asked God, “Is this dream really for me? Because it seems like I’m holding on to some fantasy. If it’s not for me, please take it away and kill it, because it pains and stings and burns. But if it is for me, then grant me hope and strength to push on. You do not set people up for failure. You do not put dreams that cannot be fulfilled. I do not know if there is a place for me out there, but if You say so, then I will go.”


Flashback to my 20th birthday, I remember my cousin telling me, “I wonder if you’ll be as excited when that tens digit changes next.” In my newly minted twenty-year-old brain, I said, “Watch me.” I laugh now at my arrogance, because I dreaded my 30th birthday. It was not about the number, it was about what have I to show for in the years before? What have I achieved? What have I accomplished? And yet, I did not die of trepidation or fear or pressure or snarky comments like “sayang-tist” or “teacher lang”. My 30th birthday came and went and I am still here. 


Have I figured things out yet? No. Not at all. Not even close. But I have learned to be comfortable in the dark - to grope around, to fart around, and to trust that there is light at the end of the tunnel. I have learned to respect time and honor the process. I had wished that I knew then what I know now, and yet, I also know from the depths of my being that I wouldn’t have known what I know if I did not go through the process. Some things you cannot cheat or accelerate or skip. Growth demands time and patience and self-compassion. I will be turning 32 soon, and I look forward to it - another milestone - of exceeding the calendar. And the dream still burns. The hope still lives.


Saturday, October 24, 2020

Doodling Again

Drawing again after the longest time... I like picking up things that took a backseat because of work... I especially like picking up things that brought me joy when I was younger... like coloring, painting, and drawing. I have done these things even after they have been considered past "childhood" and even if I'm not so very good or "professional" at it. And now finally, I am making time to do them again. I think I really am growing up, because I didn't use to share my "outputs" but now I am. #progress

So, here they are: 

Flowers and Butterfly

August 21, 2020 (colored pencils)


The Puppy

August 21, 2020

October 24, 2020 (with watercolor paint)

Final output, with some edits on CamScanner

Monday, August 3, 2020

The Next Right Thing (From Frozen II)

 


In this pandemic, things are hard, and it is difficult to keep pushing on, except all that we can do is the next right thing. So, this is my attempt at singing this difficult song, but we do what we can to cope. 

Saturday, November 14, 2015

The Hidden Picture

This was something I thought of when I saw the KDrama, "She was Beautiful" and they were talking about Renoir's Dance in the Country (look for the hidden character here.)

***

the peeping girl

the blue sky

the distant mountain 

the silent person 

the still whisper

the image you pass by but rarely see


in front of you 


but you don’t register 


someone who acts like a secondary character


in her own story


how unfortunate


when she has so much to give


maybe she’s waiting? 


waiting for someone to see her


behind the curtains


someone to ask her 


to join the dance 


or


maybe 


she decides,


"if he doesn’t see me 

maybe

I should let myself be seen

and if he still doesn’t see

I know 

someone 

somewhere

will...

or will they?"


***

We all desire to be wholly seen, to be fully known, and to be deeply loved. 

To be loved but not known is comforting but superficial. To be known and not loved is our greatest fear. But to be fully known and truly loved is, well, a lot like being loved by God. It is what we need more than anything. It liberates us from pretense, humbles us out of our self-righteousness, and fortifies us for any difficulty life can throw at us. - Timothy Keller 

Thursday, July 2, 2015

The Other Building

 

(Backdated post just to put in a proper timeline, actual posting date is June 6, 2021.)

View from my desk in the lab
The other building with its fire exit staircases

(Internship in Yang Ming Shan University)

Tuesday, March 11, 2014

It's A Very Long Story

Before I knew how to read, my mother would read Bible stories for kids to me and my brother every night. My favorites were the storybooks on Samuel and David. That was the first time I knew that there was a God. 

By the time I knew how to read in Kinder I, there was a book sale in the school gym, and it was called, "The Everyday Bible." Basically, it was a book of Bible stories for each day of the year, from January 1 to December 31. That was the first time I learned of Cain and Abel and murder. 

By Kinder 2, I had a liking towards books, so I read all the Bible-based storybooks my mother used to read to us before, and whatever else I can find at home. I was bored and the TV only had two channels, and none of them showed cartoons. 

It was in Kinder 2 when a classmate asked, "What's your faith?" and I answered, "I'm a Christian." I was Kinder 2, I didn't know what Christian meant but that was what my mother told me. And then the trick question, "Okay, but which one?" I was stumped. My mother did not prepare me for this question, so I said, "I don't know, I'll ask Mama." That was the first time that I learned that there wasn't just one Christian, and it confused me that they had different names. I mean Christian is already a difficult strange term, now I had to learn Roman Catholic, and Protestant, and Baptist, and Evangelical, and so on, and I was told they all meant the same thing - Christian. 

That conversation only happened once in Kinder 2, so all the new other terms I learned I've forgotten about. But it was in Kinder 2 that I first learned to pray. It was a prayer my mother taught me, I did not understand the words, but I echoed them anyway, and it goes like this, "In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. Lord, I thank for this day and for all the blessings that You have given me. Please forgive all my sins and please bless me and my family. In Jesus' name I pray. Amen. In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen." It felt like a really long prayer that time and I had to say that while I was kneeling on the hard floor, it was uncomfortable, but we did it anyway - every single night. 

A few more years, I was in primary school and the books I read became thicker but the thickest book in the house was that black book in the upper shelves - the Bible. In my childish pride, I challenged myself to read it, because I was a reader, so I had to read it. So I climbed the shelves, I took the book and opened it, and there was a list of names. I thought the one that said Revelations would be an interesting read, because Revelations seemed like a magical name. But I didn't get past the dragon and the prostitute because I got really scared.

It was in third grade when my teacher, Teacher Mel, gave me a little prayer book, and a pin with baby Jesus on it. I thought the pin was cute, and I loved the prayer book, because it taught me the words for the things I wanted to pray about when my vocabulary was limited. And that book I read almost every day, and it was 2 x 1 inch in size, so I always had it in my pocket. But one time, I forgot to take it out, so it got laundered and destroyed. I cried. Thankfully, some of the pages were still alive, but it just wasn't the same anymore. 

Fifth grade, my teacher was telling us a story in class, and as an example she shared to us how she prayed, and one of her sentences said, "Lord Jesus, I love you and I want to offer my life to You." When I heard that, I was floored, how could anyone be willing to give their life to someone but at the same time, I had to ask, how do I know that I love God? I mean I knew I had to love Him because that was what I heard from everyone but how do I know? 

One night, I overheard my mother and her friend talking outside church, and they said, "Yes, God loves her (referring to me)." I've seen 'God loves you' stickers and posters before, but when I heard that I suddenly knew that it was true. My heart was bursting, I was on a high. Wow! God loves me! A God loves me! Me? Can you believe that? Me? God loves...me? And I thought, yeah, I could give you my life, because You love me. So I tried saying my teacher's prayer, because I wanted to give my life to this God, this all-powerful God who thought that I was worthy to be loved by Him. But how does one give their life to someone? How do I love God? And if I do, how do I know that I do love? I didn't really know the answers, but, however that is, I'll say it anyway because if I did love and give my life and not know about it, I'll come to know in time. If I said it and thought I gave my life and loved God but weren't really, I would learn how. It was a scary prayer, because I wanted to give my life but I was afraid to die. It was serious, and I knew it was a commitment (though I didn't have a word for it back then) but I said the prayer anyway

Summer time, between fifth and sixth grade. My aunt gave us this Bible, "The Adventure Bible," the cover was sparkly, so I thought this looks cool, I have to read it. So I did, it was an NIV Bible with yellow boxes to explain hard concepts to kids, but it is the full-blown Bible. I avoided Revelations at all costs, and randomly opened a page, and I found myself entranced with its poetic way of telling things. My two younger siblings were still kids that time, and since we slept in the same bed, they wanted their bed time stories from me. And I thought, well, since I'm telling bedtime stories, might as well teach them the prayer my mom taught me. (Of course during this time, I already prayed differently but I thought that the first prayer I knew was the kid's edition.) So as they were following along, I had a eureka moment, this time, I actually understood what the prayer meant. 

Sixth grade, Mama was bringing my brother and I to the parish prayer meeting every Monday. It finished around 10pm, and we'd have Giacomino's pizza after. Mostly, my brother and I would go for the pizza. But the prayer and worship during the prayer meetings were different than the mass, there was a lightness of being. There was (as I've come to know later on) the tangible presence of God and I wanted to be in that presence (though I didn't have the words for it yet). 

First year high school, my first time to have a serious argument. I don't know what we were talking about but I remember where the argument started. It started with this, "No, you Catholics are different" and I said, "How? I don't understand. Don't we both believe in one God? Don't we both believe that God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit are one? Don't we both believe that Jesus died for us and saved us?" "Yes, but there are many many differences between us," was the reply. (I mean yes we are different, but the kind of different that was meant, was a difference that should make us divided). And so an argument ensued along with questions about Mary and the saints, and I would be saying, "But we don't worship them" and they'd disagree until I finally had it. I don't know what else I said, but I remembered walking out the room. And my chest was burning and I was crying and I called my mother, and I asked, "Ma...why? How could they say that? (I don't remember what else was said during the argument but I do remember feeling like I was being accused of something I am not guilty of)" and she simply says, "Do not feel burdened to defend Catholicism." That calmed me down, I returned to the room, we said our apologies to each other, and all was forgotten. 

Then college came, people randomly come up to me and ask "Do you believe in God?" and I'd smile say, "I'm a Christian" and again the trick question comes up, "Where do you go to?" and when I say the Catholic Church, their faces change, and they'd tell me, "That's not Christian," and they'd proceed with doing what they set out to do, and I'd listen and smile patiently. I thought, well, this person really wants to share God so I'll just let him, it won't hurt me anyway. But, I would always feel confused, because the Bible did say that a Christian is a follower of Christ, was there a definition change somewhere along the line and no one notified me of it? But I refused not to be called a Christian, so that was when my answer began to take the form of, "I'm a Christian...but I'm a Catholic." Like I had to put a disclaimer, like I had to apologise for it, like I had to be ashamed of it. Strangely, it annoyed me when Catholics ask, "Are you Catholic or Christian?" and apparently they were referring to the denomination. It annoyed me because so far in all the masses I've been to, the priests would always say Kristiyanong Katoliko, which means there was no definition change, so why this confusion? So again, I wondered, when did Christian = denomination instead of Christian = a follower of Christ? By now, my heart was breaking, I was becoming confused, and I was beginning to doubt. I had a lot of questions which I could not find the answers to but I still went to mass every Sunday. I thought there will be a time when all my questions will be answered. May be because I'm still young that's why I don't understand. 

Then I met different groups of awesome people from different Christian denominations, and they enabled me to grow as a Christian - there were the life meetings, the cell groups (life groups), the Encounter, PEPSOL. It was AMAZING!!! I did not mind whoever was speaking as long as I learned more of the Word, learned more of God, and knew God more, like the song, "take me deeper in love with You". And I still went to mass every Sunday. 

It was during college when I first started to pray, "Lord, I want the freedom to worship You" - that is the freedom to worship God in whatever denomination I choose, in whatever way I know and not be judged or hanged for it.

The only time I did not go to mass every Sunday was when I was in Singapore but I wasn't bothered because I had a Church to go to. I was in the company of amazing Christian Filipinos and they adopted me when I was there. One day, my friend and I were randomly talking about life and she asks, "So what is the vision of the Catholic church?" And to my shame, I did not know the answer to that.

Fast forward, 3-day retreat, here. I was determined to go. Never mind the assignments, I had to go, so I went. And I was surprised to be in the company of young Christian Catholics who understood what the Church is about, what it's founded on, and why the things that I've always known but took for granted were actually important and why they were being done. It was like a brick was thrown at my head. How could I not have known these things? I felt like I missed out because I've grown up with all these things and yet I have never understood them, nor did I try to understand them. I boxed them in this prejudiced paradigm and that box was now shattered. And it was like the song, "For the first time: I've been looking at you forever, but I never saw you before." Like my eyes have been opened to something beautiful. It was a beauty that was not observed, it was a beauty that I just knew. Just like when I knew that God loves me, I knew God was there and I knew that I had to know.                      

So I have determined to learn more about the teachings of Catholicism and its Traditions, about the Mass, the Eucharist, EVERYTHING, because I wanted to know God more. There will always be more of God to know of, and in my heart, this desire to learn about the Catechism, stems from the desire to know God more intimately. A humble heart, God will not despise, and as He promised, if we seek we shall find. May God be with me on this journey.  

"They (the magi) were those who sought not tales but the truth of things; and since their thirst for truth was itself a thirst for God, they also have had their reward." - G.K. Chesterton (as shared by Ate C).

I believe, in God's time, I will find what I seek.

Saturday, November 10, 2012

A Date with Death and Life

Disclaimer: These are all imaginary occurences and therefore I am not yet going crazy, no matter how I look or seem crazy. =p If I became a writer, like a real one, and if I had to publish a book that is a collection of whatever I wrote, I'd name the book, "Table Napkin Scribblings," you now have an idea where this was originally written.

***

So, it was one of those days when I was utterly bored, that I figured I should get out of the house and roam about. I haven't been to too much places so maybe that day was a good day to do just that. I rode a train and got off in one of those parks I keep on hearing about. I honestly do not understand what's so great about plants, but whatever. 

As I was entering, I saw two people, and they seemed friendly enough to say, "Hi." The first one asked, "Is this your first time here?" I said, "Yes, why?" "Well," the second one answered, "not many people come here, so we'd know if a new face came by." "Oh, I see." "And you have that stupid lost look on your face," the first one HAD to quip. The first one's name I got to learn was Death and the other was introduced as Life. I've heard of Death's and Life's before, but it was the first time to see and talk to their kind. 

Death volunteered to show me around, and coaxed the friend to trail along. They had a strange familiarity about them, like I had met them before, but forgot. As we were walking around the gardens, Death was describing to me each plant, each flower, how they grew, what their names were, where they were found, in detail. "Wow! How do you know so much about these things?" I asked.

"Well, you see, I work in hospitals a lot,"

"No, I don't see."

"Wait, let me finish! And I always see people, mourning and weeping, and bodies growing cold, it is quite a depressing sight, you see, so I make an active effort to read about things that are colorful and blooming and beautiful, whenever I get off from work. They just seem to have that certain spark."  

Spark? What spark? I was thinking to myself, I guess some people were just flower people. 

Then Death kept rambling on about leaf patterns, and petal formations, and fruit developments. 

At the back of my mind, I was thinking, what a geekoid! But then I noticed Life being silent, so I tried to make small talk. 

"Hey, are you okay? Aren't you interested in what Death is talking about?"

"Of course I am!" Life replied indignantly. 

"Of course Life is!" Death interjected, "Life is the keeper of these grounds you know. L would be the best person to tell you about everything that grows here! Aren't I right, L?"

"Don't try to act cool and call me L," came the response. 

"So why aren't you doing the tour instead of Death?" I asked.

"Well, you see..."

These people and their Well-you-sees! Just get to the point!

"Yes," I answered as patiently as I could.

"You're one of the few people who actually took interest in my pets."

"Your pets? The plants you mean? But Death is interested in them too..."

"Death doesn't count! D comes around every week asking me about things, and updates and whatever-else about the gardens. D can be considered as part of the gardens already!"

"So, you're now calling Death, D?" I teased.

"Whatever! Point is, I didn't have much practice with speaking tours and stuff..."

"Come on! You just have to tell me what you know!"

"D will do a better job with speaking. D is more sociable and more people are familiar with Death than with me, quite frankly."

"Just ignore Life!" Death interrupted. "You see, L is just in one of those attention-seeking-acting-depressed phases."

"Why? When you're surrounded with the things you care about why would you be 'depressed'?" 

"Well, you see..." Life answered.

"Uh-huh..." I said, rolling my eyes. 

"These plants, I take care of them, I nurse them, make sure they have all they need, and they respond really well to it."

"What's depressing about that?"

"Well, you see..." 

(Why can't they stop with these well-you-sees? As if, it's common sense!)

"My flowers, they would bloom and show off their prettiest colors and their largest petals. They would send out these exhilarating fragrances, that just relaxes and makes you breathe easier, but people just ignore them and walk pass them. And when they have ran their course..."

Death takes over the conversation, "when they have ran their course, and their petals start to turn brown and fall off, that's when people see them. Then, these people would complain that Life is not doing the job well, letting the flowers wilt and go ugly. You see, they forget that these flowers have been in bloom for months and Life has been at work to keep them that way."

"All things have a cycle, you see," Life said, "When the bloom is over, they wilt, giving chance for other plants to bloom. They all have their own seasons and their own time, but in a year, we never run out of flowers that bloom. So I find it strange and depressing that the only ones that get noticed are the flowers that have already finished their time. And my flowers don't even get thanked for a job well done, and a proper send off when it's time to go. Although, when they go, they always leave something to remember them by, like a seed. And then the cycle starts again. So like I said, we never run out of flowers."

"Yup, aren't they a mystery and a beauty?" Death said with admiration. "I wish I could have Life's job and be around flowers all the time."

"Well, I wish I could have your job, and just get to see their beauty without the pain of having to cultivate them," Life answered.

"By the way, we forgot to ask your name," Death said.

"Right! I'm sorry I forgot to introduce myself. I rarely meet new people. My name is Fluke, like a tapeworm or a fluke of nature."

"YOU'RE A WHAT???" they said in unison.

"I thought that Flukes don't exist anymore," Life wondered out loud.

"I am here, aren't I?"

"I heard of your kind," Death said, "You guys, wake up to sleep, go through a day to get through a year, get through a year to finish a lifetime. You guys do not get hungry but then you don't get full either."

"Yup! That's exactly who we are!" I said beaming with pride and these two people looked at me with a funny expression.

"Yeah, you guys avoid trouble but then you also avoid decisions, you refuse to take lifts and stairs sticking to the ground, and you don't like subways, preferring the surface," Life added.

"And what's so wrong with that?" I asked. Although, I was a bit pleased that they omitted the well-you-see phrases in their last sentences.

"Well, we don't know. Well, wait! What's a Fluke doing out of their house today? Isn't this outside your routine?" Life asked.

"I got bored, I guess."

"So a Fluke went out to seek adventure?" Death teased and that was followed by laughter.

At this point, I really do not appreciate where this conversation is heading! 

"Why? What if I was?"

"Then, you'd be the flukiest of all the Flukes if there ever was such a word, because a Fluke seeking adventure is unheard of! Come on!" 

"But seriously, we really thought that Flukes would have been gone by now, what with the surge of self-help books, motivational speakers, purpose-driven life events and stuff like that," Life said.

"Exactly!" Death lunged, "I thought with wars, massacres, 9/11, the Abu Sayyaf, and movies like the Bucket List, people would want to have some sort of forward action. There really is no excuse to be a Fluke anymore you see."

"Excuse me???!!!"

"I thought that I was miserable because of the sorrow surrounding me, but no offense, I think I'm actually better off than you," Death said.

"And I thought I was pathetic because I keep on struggling to keep my flowers in bloom, but you are far worse, my friend," Life added, giving me a "comforting" pat on the shoulder.

I knew they were trying to make a point, but I simply refuse to give them the upper hand. I will have the last say in this conversation!

So I turned to them, put my nose high up in the air, and gave them the best rebuttal EVER,

"CHE!" 

Monday, July 23, 2012

Looking Ahead

words, words, words...

***

tomorrow

is

another day

and i will continue 

to 

look forward 

to 

tomorrow

even though

it just

MIGHT

be the same 

as today

but 

waiting 

and

hoping

has become

some 

of my

most 

precious talents

so i will

look ahead

because there

is MORE

SO MUCH MORE

in store

for me

and my

tomorrows

Friday, July 20, 2012

22 turning 23

22 turning 23 

6 months to go and yet

there's a rush

i can't describe

like i'm running out of time

but they tell me

i'm young

really?

people die

at ten

at twenty

we lament their youth

how much more time?

death does not choose

death just kills

death has no mercy

death does not respect

age or youth

but i don't think

i'll die soon

because if do

what will i tell Him?

i can't face my Maker

just yet

because

my life

has nothing

to tell of Him

just

yet