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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