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| Monday, May 28, 2007 |
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Sad thoughts
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Someone once said: "Our sweetest songs are those of saddest thought."
Those words puzzled me. I wondered why. Why do we seem to like sad stories so much? Sentimental soap operas, sappy love songs, tragic stories, and even dramatic 'reality' shows fill our TV/computer screens, movie theaters, the airwaves and our literature. Why?
I can only guess. Maybe it's because sadness, the capacity to be hurt, to feel pain and to feel for others, are so ingrained into us, they touch the very core of our humanity. It is, I guess, what makes us all-too-human.
Sorrow and joy go together because we would never have known what we'd missed without the other. In the absence of either of the two, we realize the value of what we have and what we've lost. Joy keeps it alive and beating, but it is sadness that makes the human heart tender.
Here's a sad snippet of conversation that struck me. I don't know why. It's 2 o'clock in the morning even as I write this, but the thoughts just came and stuck, wouldn't let me sleep, and I just couldn't keep myself from putting them into words.
"Look at me," he said. " I'm a mess. A wretch if there ever was one. I'm full of issues I can't even sort out, let alone resolve. Somehow, I get the feeling I don't deserve the people God brings into my life. Or the people I want to bring into my life, for that matter. In spite of all their imperfections, they seem to good to be true, and have indeed been such blessings.
How about me? Have I been a blessing to them, too? Or more of a curse?
Hahaha, I'm even laughing at myself. I just wish the sound of my laughter didn't ring so hollow even to my own ears. Or that it didn't leave such a bitter taste in my mouth.
Given a choice, would they even want me in their lives in the first place? Silence.
I'm afraid to hear the answers."
Pathetic, you might say. I had that conversation with a guy I know all too well: myself. Those words are my own. No, I don't think I need professional help just yet. And I'm not even depressed. Just... brooding.
Then why? Because I'm human, too - a sad soul that sometimes wants his sentiments - his story - to be heard. And why am I sad? I don't know. I just am, at times.
Sad thoughts can indeed be sweet. They make me appreciate life's sweetness all the more. Like bitter coffee before a box of chocolates. Or the night's darkness before the glimmer of daybreak. Or cold rain before brilliant bursts of sunshine.Labels: inside the self |
posted by remrick @ 3:45 PM  |
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"Haberdey"
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May 25, 2007 was the first day of my last year as a teenager.
My mind still refuses to take in and process the bitter fact. Yes, I'm a bit bitter about it. But for all my bitterness, reality bites. And man, does it bite. Hard.
Somebody must have shook the sand in the hourglass or something. The years have been a blur. Time truly is passing me by - and fast.
Almost two decades, and I've come to realize that maybe God isn't letting me off that easy. So much for dying young and escaping old age. Haha, pardon the morbid thoughts. I get the feeling God isn't through with me and my life just yet. Undoubtedly, He still has plans for me. And I at least owe it to all the people He's blessed my life with.
Who would've thought? From a sickly kid who had perennial colds, coughs and asthma attacks, and my fair share of maladies and mishaps, you'd think natural selection would've eliminated me out of the survival game early on. And yet, by God's grace I'm still here. Still standing. Hey, I even survived chicken pox when I was just a few months old. Scarred, but still a survivor.
And I realize that it does feel good to alive. Life is beautiful, especially when you know it has meaning. And when you remember there's a purpose behind everything and all that you may go through, however bad, blissful or banal they may be. I think there are still quite a few surprises in store for me. And just like the rest of my 19-year existence, it'll be an undeniably colorful experience.
Speaking of surprises, my sympathies to my high school buddies who had planned a 'surprise' for me on my birthday. The plan was they'd unexpectedly drop by to pick me up so we could go out and eat, among other things. Except that they overlooked one very minor detail. I was already in Surigao and they're still in Manila. In the end, they were the ones who got 'surprised'. Sorry guys, my parents had me packing right after my last exam. But I really do appreciate it. Definitely didn't expect it, and I'm thankful nonetheless.
So, how did my day turn out? Well, there seems to be a high positive correlation between happiness and the number well-wishers and greetings one receives on his birthday. It was, again, unexpected. From ates and kuyas to little bros and sisters, to high school friends and batch mates whom I haven't heard from in a quite some time, the messages filled my inboxes. It was overwhelming and I'm very much indebted and grateful.
It has been a happy day, indeed. Thanks to all those who wished it so. Not a joyful one - there are still some issues I've yet to resolve - but still very happy. Thanks for making it a happy birthday come true.
Labels: rantings |
| posted by remrick @ 3:04 PM |
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| Friday, May 25, 2007 |
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love quotes?!
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"I don't love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz or arrow of carnations
that propagate fire: I love you as one loves certain dark things, secretly, between the shadow and the soul."
-Someone I don't really know
The things that people come up with when writing about such a worn and weathered topic like love. But...
I never quite thought of it that way...
Interesting...Labels: -bleep- |
| posted by remrick @ 1:57 PM |
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| Thursday, May 24, 2007 |
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scenes from the sea
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The trip home wasn't as bad as I expected.
On the contrary, I think it did a lot of good in soothing nerves that have been severely frayed during the past week. And with sights such as these, I just couldn't complain.
Nothing the beats the sight of the tropical sun in the summer sky, shimmering over the sea.Labels: rantings |
| posted by remrick @ 2:34 PM |
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| Monday, May 21, 2007 |
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no pretensions
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The dark days of my soul have come to an end.
They must come to an end. And I must set out again.
I am not alright. But what I do know is that things will eventually turn out right.
In time.
I now have the strength to stand and pick myself up. And I know it isn't just my own.
I can put on the face once more. I can play the part again. Hoping that in so doing, in trying and pretending to be the person I'm supposed be, I'd someday grow into it.
That I'd someday become the person I'm desperately trying and pretending to be.Labels: the walk |
| posted by remrick @ 3:37 PM |
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| Sunday, May 20, 2007 |
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cranky
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Man, this sucks.
I feel all rotten inside.
I'm tired. I'm feel like I'm coming down with a fever or something. And my mind's messed up with worries and what-have-you's .
Sheesh, and I have an exam on Monday. My ship leaves later that night. I have tons of things to pack up for storage and travel. And I don't even know if I'll still have a dorm to return to next semester.
Yeah, right Rem.
Oh, just put a sock in it.Labels: ragings, rantings |
| posted by remrick @ 2:07 AM |
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red skies and flashes of lightning
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The credits roll, and the second movie comes to an end. The lights switch back on and we suddenly find ourselves squinting at each other - at 3 o'clock in the morning. And yes, the call time for my fieldtrip later in the day is at 6:30 am.
Outside, lightning flashes across a night sky tinged with an unnatural, reddish light. And it's been one very balmy night.
The day hasn't been a very good one for me, but the events of the night seem to have made up for it. And the mini-movie marathon capped it off nicely.
The movies were fun, funny and featured the frivolous Fockers and fab femme Lindsay Lohan. Special thanks goes to Kuya Popo for the CD, laptop, and actually, the whole idea. I'm glad that the three of us had fun, especially Kem. Poor kid's been dying of boredom, having nothing to do this past couple of weeks. It was nice to see him entertained and laughing like that.
Anyway, I intend on keeping this post short. I still have a fieldtrip later to worry about. But I'll find a way to make it there on time.
Somehow.
Things always turn out right in the end.
And this night has just refused to be an exception.
3:23 am
May 19, 2007
Labels: rantings |
| posted by remrick @ 1:43 AM |
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| Friday, May 18, 2007 |
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anxious again
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Ugh.
So many worries and concerns are starting to eat me up again.
Should I be troubled? Should I indulge my anxious self again?
After Monday things will start to get better.
I hope.Labels: ragings |
| posted by remrick @ 5:18 PM |
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| Monday, May 14, 2007 |
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'morning
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It's been a long time since I woke up early in the morning. I mean, waking up really early, and not just the usual way I drag myself out of bed everyday for my 7 am class.
I am so not a morning person.
Didn't sleep very well. Dreams. Bad dreams.
Not necessarily nightmares though; no, but definitely unpleasant. Okay, maybe some weren't so unpleasant... they were pleasant, but in a not-so-good way. Now my train of thought and choice of words are getting confusing. Anyway, I'll leave it at that.
Give me a break. I woke up at around 5:30 am, feeling the chill all around me and yet finding myself soaked in sweat at the same time. It's one of those strange summer days again - the weather's been weird lately - when the seasons can't seem to decide on the shift from summer to the wet, rainy season. And my body also can't seem to decide on whether to feel hot, cold, or both.
The first thing I did after getting up was go out to the small balcony at the end of the corridor, just a few steps outside my room.
Typical morning scene greets me: a ball of light burning softly just behind the trees in the east, a blue sky broken by white puffs of fluff, and... brown birds battling each other senseless with their furious squabbling and shrill chattering(?!). I'm serious here, and I'm not making it up. And no, it wasn't just another one of my 'bad dreams'.
And all the while I thought the adage was true... whatever happened to the early birds that went after the worm? Apparently, they were after each other.
Well, maybe it wasn't such a typical morning scene after all. In much the same way that it hasn't been a very typical start of my day either. Oh well, we always find something wrong with our stories.
You know, like the early bird and the worm...Labels: rantings |
| posted by remrick @ 4:58 PM |
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| Saturday, May 12, 2007 |
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sudden bursts of compulsion
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"... almond-shaped eyes widening in mild surprise...
I reply with a startled look of my own.
Averting my eyes, I hurry on.
And secretly, I smile to myself."
Nothing...
Just remembered... something...
Just another one of those times when stray thoughts and memories pop up inside my head, and I feel the urge to write them down.
And strangely, even if I don't want to, I find myself smiling for no apparent reason.Labels: -bleep-, inside the self, rantings |
| posted by remrick @ 8:16 PM |
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| Saturday, May 05, 2007 |
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Under the same skies
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I look up at the full moon nearing its zenith.
In the darkness around me, everything is silent and still. Even the moon shadows seem afraid to betray the slightest hint of movement, and the wind dares not stir even a single leaf. The night is so peaceful.
I remember the summer nights I used to spend frolicking under the moonlight as a child. It was often too hot to play outside during the day, so kids in our neighborhood were often allowed to go out to play at night as long as there was sufficient light, especially when the moon was full. Sometimes, there would be brownouts. The surge in the demand for electricity during the hot summer months inevitably lead to power outages. Caught unaware and having nothing better to do, the family and the next-door neighbors would go out and socialize. Us kids also had our share of socializing, too. Whether it was the aptly named buwan-buwan, habulan (tag and chase), or the ever-exciting taguan (hide and seek), we played to our hearts' content during those clear moonlit nights of summer.
The moon would often rise round and with a golden glow, looming over the rice fields, bamboo groves and coconut trees in the eastern horizon, diminishing in size and taking on a more silvery-bluish light as it made its way up the sky. It was under this magnificent backdrop - the still nightscape bathed in pale silvery moonshine and bottomless shadows - that I spent the summers of my childhood.
Of course, in the provinces back then, the concept of light pollution didn't even exist. There were no glaring city lights that obscured the heavens and the stars. The skies were clear, most especially so during the frequent blackouts in summer and in the 1990's.
For a moment, we caught a timeless glimpse of nature at night... of what nights were like before man discovered fire, and electricity, and eventually flooded his homes and settlements with artificial lights. We saw the heavens as they truly are - in all their undiminished luster - whether it be in the glorious moonlight that carpeted the rice fields with a silvery sheen or shimmered above the waters, the sparkle of the countless stars, or the interplay of light and shadow over the natural landscape.
It is a wondrous sight. An it's during times like these that I remember how I so easily took those times for granted, like my own innocence and carefree childhood.
The heavens are vast, and they are beautiful. Though I can no longer bring back those summer nights of not-so-long-ago, I will look up and take comfort in the fact that it's still the same sky that bore witness to my childhood, the same sky under which the child that I was, used to play and delight in. It does not change.
And I take greater comfort in the equally wonderful truth that the One who created all these - who set the heavens in place - does not change, too. And so does His love for me...
Even in my sin and shame. I'm sorry. Forgive me for all those times...
Though I put on a face of composure, I am broken deep inside. And I can't pick up the bits and pieces. I can't mend the shattered image of You in me.
Heal me and I shall be healed. And I will be whole again.
"The heavens declare the glory of God;
the skies proclaim the work of His hands." (Psalm 19:1)
12 midnight
May 4, 2007
Labels: inside the self, the walk |
| posted by remrick @ 6:01 PM |
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| Friday, May 04, 2007 |
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confessions of a control freak
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If I had the mind of God and the world was at my fingertips, I would neatly order my life, and the lives of everyone in general, exactly the way I want it to be.
In economic parlance, I would seek to maximize everyone's utility and forever eliminate risks, the threat of shocks, and negative externalities. I would abolish pain and suffering, and rid the world of its ills, imperfections and corruptions. Everything would run smoothly, though maybe not as precisely as clockwork.
Of course, that is one big IF. Reality bites, and the sad truth is, life does not conform to our tidy and detailed schedules, and seemingly high and noble ideals. And we could never really know the full implications of our actions.
Not everyone can be rich and famous, because these qualities are relative standards derived from comparisons with others. If everyone was the same - in fame and popularity - then life would simply be boring. And we would always want to be richer and more popular than everyone else. Also, a world without pain and devoid of the capacity to suffer would be a world that does not know how to feel at all. It wouldn't know how to feel for others. Pain seems to be an integral part of human experience. Without it, we would have no point to compare and appreciate all the more life's simple joys and pleasures. Without being hurt, we would not know of and care about hurting others.
In the end, it turns out that I simply do not know what I'm asking for. I could never comprehend the complexities by which the world operates. My conception of what is ideal, turns out to be worse off, and the present reality as we know it, is the best and only option we've got. We are not made to be in control. Man is not his own master.
But why do I persist in the foolish notion of having things 'my way?' Why do I want to be in control of every aspect of my life, even if I can't really know what will be good for me? Because my nature tells me so. 'I' must be in control. 'I' must shape my own destiny. 'I' must have power over the things and events that happen around me. 'I' must be at the center.
In other words, call me a control freak. A self-centered control freak.
Why do I want control? Because everything has to go the way I want it to be. Because I look after my own interests. Whether or not I take into consideration the interests of others, that depends on me.
This is how I am. This is my nature. And I think you see a little of yourself in it, too. For some, maybe more than they're willing to admit.
And so, here I am. When everything goes out of hand, when things fly at my face, I am peeved, frustrated, angered, even enraged...
But I've long since learned the truth, hard to accept as it may be. I know I'm not in control. So when things go out of control, I grin and bear it. Even if my nature rebels at it, I just say: "You know what's best. Have Your way."
Sometimes, it's easy to accept these things. Other times, I find it so hard, bordering on the impossible.
I don't want to be powerless. Being stripped of power and control, even over my own self, exposes me for what I really am: a bundle of self-conscious thoughts and emotions, a tangled mess of hopes, desires, insecurities, and fears. I don't want to be rendered helpless. Let me be anything but helpless.
I detest helplessness. It is, in fact, my greatest fear. Man fears the unknown - death, darkness, the depths of suffering, the uncertainties of the future. But in the end, he fears these unknowns only because he has no power over them. He is helpless before them.
Right now, I hate myself for being helpless. I despise this feeling helplessness, of being unable to make things better.
I stand to lose not just a dorm, but a 'home;' not just dorm mates, but 'family;' completely clueless as to where each of us is headed. And I can't do anything about it.
I've realized that it is useless to rebel and complain or even curse the people behind all this. No amount of endless complaints, no matter how just or fair, and no amount of scalding criticisms, no matter how reasonable or justifiable, can change things. In the end, we are forced to make do with what has been given us.
Is it wrong to want to look after the interests of not just myself, or not even myself, but for the other people who I care about? Can't I be a control freak for a cause?
Apparently not. I can only hope for the best. Meanwhile, it's a bitter struggle with helplessness. And it's killing me.
I just might have to concede defeat.Labels: inside the self, rantings |
| posted by remrick @ 5:30 PM |
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| Tuesday, May 01, 2007 |
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To lose life and hope
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Mention the word "death" and what immediately comes to my mind is the sad image of my paternal grandmother: my lola. She died of bone cancer.
I was about to write: "You could just imagine the pain she went through..." but that wouldn't be quite right. You could never imagine all that she had been through. Even I, who witnessed some of her suffering, could never fully comprehend the literally bone-crushing pain that wracked her thin frame and kept her bed-ridden... that deprived her of sleep at night, and during the elusive times when sleep would come, caused her to cry out and become delirious.
I remember my parents and my aunt recounting how lola would call out the names of some of her long - dead family members and relatives and mumble about them in her sleep, as if they were coming to fetch her, during her last stay at the hospital. She had been in and out of the hospital before that. Her health had already been deteriorating then.
I shivered at hearing those stories. I never was able to muster enough courage (or compassion?) to visit her often during the times she had been admitted. I made excuses for myself, reasoning out that I was a student who had classes to attend everyday. But I knew I was just afraid - afraid to see her in her awful condition, in such pain... afraid of my own helplessness, knowing there was nothing I could do for her. If only there was something I could do, to ease her pain, if just a bit. I prayed for her, but I knew that her condition was beyond cure.
What was I to do? Hope against hope?
To see life deteriorate - literally wasting away - before your very eyes is like having your heart crushed. To see a life lost just tears your heart in two.
I was in my early teens when I was experienced the acrid taste of death in the family I knew. One of the hardest things I had to come to terms with was the fact that death is bitterly irreversible.
The person you knew, lived with, and loved is gone for good. It was then that I understood the unspeakable pain of loss, of losing someone forever. No one could really put words to it. The condolences often sounded empty.
Why do I write about death? I don't know. I just remembered lola.
And I've long wanted to write about her death... to face the ghosts of the past, the feelings (or the lack of it) that I struggled with during those dark times, particularly the feeling that I should have done something more for her... to have release... and closure.
I won't give you the usual platitudes of "treasuring life and loved ones" and "making the most of every second of it... of every moment spent with them."
Rather, I merely long for the day when the irreversible will ultimately be reversed. When death will have no power over us. When sadness and suffering will cease. When God will put an end to all the misery and pain. When all the bad things will be made right.
When the nightmare will finally come to an end.
I look forward to that day. Who wouldn't? I yearn for it because I have trouble in dealing with all the hurt that all people around me have to go through everyday. I want to give them a hope, but I hold back.
And I realize that, in spite of the years that have passed me by, I'm still the same young teenager that was helpless before the sight of someone suffering - of his lola suffering. I guess nothing's changed much.
At least, not yet. But that day of change, however, will indeed come. I refuse to believe that God would allow humanity to suffer in vain. What difference then, is there between hell and earth? No, God is too good to allow that.
Is this another case of "hoping even when there's no hope?" Another one of my foolish notions?
I don't think so. If there was no hope at all, then why go on with the drudgery of existence? Why choose to go on living anymore? Why not end it, and be done with it?
But as for me, I will hold on to that hope. I know that that day of great change will come. God speed its coming. For His own glory. For those who are suffering and in pain. For you. For myself. Even for lola.
Yes, for all of us.Labels: the walk |
| posted by remrick @ 4:25 PM |
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Moving out?
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I'm toying with the idea of getting a new blog.
Somehow, I feel the need to start all over again. To close the chapters of my life captured in these posts. I'm tempted to begin anew. New beginnings are always good. They help you to focus on the future and on what's at hand, rather than dwell in the past.
When an idea pops up inside my head, it isn't the usual light bulb reaction. I deliberately go over it and think it all out. I actually like to delay decision-making.
Well, I also partly want to escape prying-eyes... to be unknown and free... to be anonymous except to those I choose to reveal my presence and my identity. It's strange because I feel like I've lost control of this blog... as if it's taken on a life of its own and I've lost power over it.
Another manifestation of my being a control freak? I dunno.
I've come to accept that the questions I often ask myself almost always go unanswered.
Now I'm ranting here, right?
But the ranting and raging must inevitably come to an end. The more important question, though, is when?Labels: rantings |
| posted by remrick @ 4:12 PM |
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A new beginning
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I dug this up from my 'journal' entries - written in my hieroglyphic handwriting in an old UP bluebook. Now, I've gained a glimpse of the joyous hope that Easter brings. Easter truly brings a glorious new beginning.
The night before Easter
"What we have been told is how men can be drawn into Christ - can become part of that wonderful present which is himself and therefore us in Him.
It is the only thing we were made for.
And there are strange hints in the Bible that when we are drawn in, a great many other things in Nature will begin to come right.
The bad dream will be over: it will be morning."
- C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity
Yes, in a few more hours it will be morning. This darkness will soon be dispelled by the rising sun in all its splendor.
But remember that over 2000 years ago, a carpenter from the backwater region of Galilee dispelled the darkness and even death - forever. And He will come again - the Risen Christ - as the Son of God in all His glory, to do for us the feat that was done in a nondescript graveyard in Jerusalem. This is our hope.
Be thankful that He rose. For you and me. For everyone who believes in His name.
Be glad Christian.
Labels: the walk |
| posted by remrick @ 3:55 PM |
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| About Me |
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Name: remrick
Home: Surigao City, Philippines
About Me: Let me tell you what I'm not:
I am not predisposed to bare my guts and soul here in the internet for the whole world to see just for the sake of it. It's just that I like writing, in the free and unstructured way that blogging provides for. I simply want to express what I think and feel. Is that too much to ask? Which leads me to my next point...
I am not invulnerable, in spite of all my attempts to put on a face of cool composure, and desperately wanting I was good enough to fool myself.
In short, I am not really what I seem.
So, would you still take my ramblings seriously?
See my complete profile
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