Dear ME

10:28 AM

I have spent 10 minutes of my important day staring and firing words in front of my laptop. Outside the sky is pitch-black. Earlier it rained and cooled what was once a burning earth.

I cannot ask for the wonderful interplay of elements as my best day approaches. It is like they are soldiers with trumpets announcing this important day of my life.

I can hear them. Brave and sparkling soldiers giving me the best welcome for my best day.

So four decades of existence. I try to figure out right now if I already have answered the greatest ontological question. Am I a year better or a year worst?

I try to fathom right now John Green’s “some lives have better infinities than other’s infinities stuff”.

Yup, I already know me more than 90%. I am pretty darn sure of that. I already concluded that my life is like a changing of seasons. Some moments will be better and some moments will be bad, but I have to be still like the Molave in the deep forest (I hope there is still a Molave in some of our forests);a  Molave that the weather already gave-up festering because its stillness cannot be moved.

Four decades is a short a time when you are so busy flying around doing a lot of things. Four decades is a lot when you try to swim back in the deep and wide ocean of the past.

Right now I am swimming freestyle. My mind is like a time machine trying to check and countercheck all the best and worst moments of my life. The hair in my skin is up. It is like the gift of memory is so powerful that tapping my past and the emotions that goes along with it is so archaic – full of mysteries. In fact, I am now hearing tribal chants in my ears.

I hear Earth songs of a million years.

I now relish past moments of victories that I have: MVP in a Fiesta Basketball Tournament, T.V. talent in Tele-Aralan ng Kakayahan,   Essay Champion defeating Dela Salle and other private schools, Two Years Best Debater in College, Writer in elementary, Sports Editor in High School, Associate Editor and caretaker of the school paper in College, published poem in inquirer, First yes of a girl, first kiss and the lists goes on. They are like sheep in my head; they bounce and make funny sounds I can’t help but smile right now in front of my PC.

I now feel the emptiness of defeat and failure: dumped by a girl, runner-up in the UN Contest, cut as a member in the elementary group oratorical contest, benched in a basketball game, unable to dance my high school crush in the JS Prom, College Suspension, outings and out of town contest I failed to join because I lack money to be there and the lists goes on.

Defeat and failures are like shards of broken glass. They stick to your heart and penetrate slowly and deeply. The pain make you squirm and lose your breath.
But I am still here, alive and kicking, so they say. I am still here. I am enjoying the sadomasochistic ritual of feeling the pains of your past as if it is happening right now.

I love myself and I hate myself.

There are moments that I bask on the greatness of my actions. There are moments that I despise the wrongness of my deeds.

I don’t subscribe to clichés. I am human clichés argggghhh.

However, I guess I am like others cut in the mold of committing rights and wrongs, like humans (sigh).

It is hard to write all the stuff in my mind right now. Four decades cannot be summed up by few pages; most especially, if I am tussling with sleepiness in every click of the keyboard.

The sky is pitch-black. I am alone. Everybody in the house is asleep. It is my birthday. I am happy and I am sad. The two emotions are like a gin and water. I have to drink both to get high. Alas, I am not a drinker so to identify myself with drunkards will be inaccurate.

I guess being inebriated is a romantic approach to life. Albeit sometimes I admit it is also a sign of cowardice.

In my four decades of existence, I just know that I made a mark but I still have to make a mark. In my four decades of existence, I believe that in order to wake-up every day with energy you have to feel LOVE.

LOVE - this word makes life like a hammock that swings back and forth or waves that goes back and forth, both are soothing to the soul.

I know a lot and don’t know a lot. It’s a Faustian Tragedy that I have learned to accept.

I am forty . They say life begins at forty. But this belief is rubbish. Life begins every day. There is no age in beginning and facing life over and over again.

Life for me now is to show others that I love them in small moments like the sachet of shampoos.  Love is an action word that reaching this age and living this long all infinities must subscribe to – I will be one of the torch bearers of Love.

As in L.ove O.thers V.ital to my E.xistence.

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