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| Saturday, January 10, 2009 |
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Misc #5
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Now I know why for the longest time this blog has been dying. How do you capture in words the aimless, drifting, chaotic mass that's been my life for over a year now? Don't get me wrong, LOL. I'm not suicidal and I don't do drugs. I'm not even really depressed. It's just that I feel, and I know, that all this time I've really been wandering away from my Anchor. Still trying to find myself home, I guess. And this time, I hope I learn to stay.Labels: inside the self, the walk |
posted by remrick @ 3:03 PM  |
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Misc #3
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I just thought about what would happen if I lost my legs... Quite a morbid thought, I know. Kinda typical of me, at times. 
But anyway, where was I? Ah, yes... The losing-my-legs part.... Then I imagined that when I get to heaven, I'd have a perfect resurrection body and there'd be lots of beautiful places for wonderful, solitary walks. But then I realized, maybe I wouldn't want to wander by then. After all, when God is at the center of everything, no matter what the reason, how could you walk away? Would there be anything else worth seeing, any thought worth entertaining, than the One who is above all, through all, and in all?  Labels: inside the self, rantings, the walk |
| posted by remrick @ 2:49 PM |
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| Saturday, November 22, 2008 |
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smiley
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At a focus group discussion group on political communication...
*GTKY time*
Facilitator: Okay, let's introduce ourselves para hindi naman tayo magkailangan...
*rounds of names*
Faci: So anong year niyo na?
Bevs: 3rd year...
Justin: 2nd year...
Me: 4th year...
Faci: Talaga? Di halata ah...
*Guy at the back agrees; mild laughter ensues*
Me: Talaga? Uh... thank you..? 
But seriously, I immensely enjoyed the experience of intelcourse (intellectual discourse, that is)... We had food afterwards, and the organizers from CMC were friendly and so much fun... It was really nice, and I wouldn't mind doing it again.
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After a looong time, I finally got to spend some serious QT with God last night... Two hours of meditating on His word and pouring my heart out in prayer... Of struggling with Him and with myself... God stilled the storm inside me and gave me peace... 
I had only five hours of sleep but I slept so soundly all the while... It's been so long...
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By the way, I walked home from Philcoa all the way to the dorm last night...
My parents are probably gonna kill me if they find out, but it isn't as bad as some people may think. In fact, the new street lamps at the entrance to the University Avenue has lit up the place quite nicely. I made sure to walk along the edge of the street itself, casually making sure that I wasn't being followed and that there were no suspicious people I should be avoiding, and walking briskly like I usually do...
It was cold, foggy and eerily quiet on campus, save for the sound of my own footsteps, as it was already past midnight. I noticed that they didn't turn off the lights at the base of the Oblation like they usually do at 9pm, while the "UP @ 100" at the top of Quezon Hall was unlit. And at the area at the back of Quezon Hall, there was someone in a jacket reading a book under the lamp light. At first glance, I thought it was a woman but when I looked back I wasn't so sure anymore because he/she/it looked like a guy. Then I met two other people walking along the oval, aside from the SSB. The second one was a sino-guy (who was probably Jap or Korean) swinging his arnis as he walked.
I arrived at the dorm at 12:40, numbed by the cold outside. But, it was worth it. I enjoyed the walk and the cool air. And the time for introspection. So much for pretending to be have my wits about me. Labels: rantings, the walk |
| posted by remrick @ 4:32 PM |
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| Saturday, July 26, 2008 |
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sa(l)vaged memories
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It has been months, but the wounds remain fresh.
It is astounding how a sinful act could have such unintended, far-reaching and damaging consequences. Memories, relationships, and persons - all have been brought to the brink of ruin. The gravity and seriousness of sin is a hard lesson, indeed. And I am afraid it is one which I have yet to personally learn.
Everything just collapsed. Even the few memories I have tried salvaging have gone sour. It's as if they've been tainted. Like people maimed and deformed by an accident. Like the rotting remains of a thing once alive. A thing once so full of life. A thing, which not so long ago, shared my own life too.
I say goodbye to the East Wing 2 I once so fondly knew. The East Wing 2 I tried to build up and invested myself in. I wish to believe that all my efforts have not gone to waste. But the taint makes me want to retch. It stings my eyes. It tears at my chest. And the tears fall silently.
That year is lost now.
But I will cling to the memories of my first and now, last, year in this corridor. I pray that the time will come when I will remember but will no longer hurt. When there will be no more pain laced with the memories.
For most of them who are in the dark, they don't know how lucky they are. Let them cherish the fond memories, the sweet moments and the friendships they have built. Even if some of those may have been built on falsehood and deception. But for the very few of us who do know the truth, it is a burden that we must bear. A burden I thought I could escape from. A burden I thought I could relieve by getting back at him. A burden, which in truth, is something I must learn to accept.
Pain purifies. I know this all too well. On hindsight, a degree of maturity came after the painful experiences before. This time, by grace, I look forward to something good coming out of all this. I look forward to the time when I can remember without hurting.
I just need to be faithful. I just need to hang on.Labels: inside the self, ragings, the walk |
| posted by remrick @ 7:38 AM |
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| Saturday, July 19, 2008 |
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Sorry, I just got up.
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I'm back. Up and running again.
I've been better, but this is definitely an improvement from the quagmire that was me for the past few weeks..
I thank God for picking me up again.
I hope I get this dependence thing right. Ugh, please please please.. I'm finding my way back. Yes!
Life's faded colors are coming alive for me once more. Praise God.
I wanna scream: I'm alive!Labels: rantings, the walk |
| posted by remrick @ 6:15 PM |
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brother
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I was about to post this entry:
" I gotta breathe this out.
I can no longer carry your burden for you. I've got enough of my own right now. I have my limits, too.
Until now, I still have doubts on whether you truly are (or were) a 'brother' to begin with. I want to believe you. Maybe because the alternative is much more painful: that we've all been fooled, completely deceived, even until now.
I never saw through you. You were much too guarded. Too withdrawn. Mysterious.
You and I are not so different after all.
But I was a failure with you.
As of now, this is the best I can do. But please, don't give me even the slightest excuse to doubt your repentance because I might not be able to control myself anymore. I just might take things into my own hand.
Believe me, there are many ways that I can make you regret everything. The right people just need to know the truth. And they do deserve it. It is only the fear of God and of ruining your life that holds me back.
What would your new fraternity do if they found out? How would your church react if it became public? I think of the shock and pain that it might cause the people around you: your dormmates, your friends... Will they still be able to look at you the same way? And your family... How would they take it?
I think of the person who molested you when you were a child. In a way, he has succeeded. In a way, you've done the very things he did. You have no idea of the consequences, or of the burden we bear. You've ruined people and relationships.
In the same way he ruined you. For your sake, I will not add to that. I will not let be like him. Even if you and I are not so different at all.
Repent, please. And may that repentance be true. Your leader and your church may coddle you, but I certainly won't. Make no mistake about it.
Farewell, 'brother.' "
But I thank God for setting me right. Forgive me, Lord. To love beyond one's limits, even those who are the cause of so much pain - that is what you have called me to. Teach me and uphold me by your grace.
Please be patient with me. I know I keep stumbling every other step of the way but bear with me and continue to pick me up again and again... until I learn to walk in your footsteps.Labels: inside the self, ragings, the walk |
| posted by remrick @ 4:55 PM |
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| Wednesday, June 04, 2008 |
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blog leave
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Haven't got anything to write of late.. Or rather, I haven't felt like writing much since the summer.. The things I could write about, I believe, should rather be left unsaid.. It's just too darn complicated.. Talk about dilemmas! I've been encountering them, along with trial after trial, failure after failure, and so many more sandwiched in between since last year.. It's a wonder how I'm still standing.. barely, but by God's grace.
So many things have happened.. And I've got to fix a quite a few things, too.. No quick fixes, no easy answers, hard roads to take, and it's really gonna hurt.. And they are all too real. *Sighs*
I wonder what will come out of all this.. Or when and where will it all end? I don't know.. At least grant me a respite.. Somebody gimme a break..
Meanwhile, it's a struggle moment by moment.. I knew it was gonna be hard, but I had no idea it was gonna be this hard.. And there's so much more to come..
Bahala na. Sige lang.Labels: rantings, the walk |
| posted by remrick @ 2:29 PM |
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| Thursday, May 15, 2008 |
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hazard
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May 9, 2008
It's always like this.
The people around me always end up getting hurt. Relationships always get messed up. Why?
I can't seem to do anything right.
Ginugulo ko lang buhay ng mga tao.
Maybe that's why I've always preferred to be alone. I'm a hazard. Perhaps I was never meant to be happy with the people I car for. I guess I've come to accept that.
But I have yet to be truly broken. Only then can I be made anew.
Until then, I am alone.
I need to and will always be.Labels: inside the self, ragings, the walk |
| posted by remrick @ 4:45 PM |
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| Tuesday, April 29, 2008 |
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third person
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From across the street, he looks up and raises a hand in greeting.. Attempts a sad smile.. Fails.. Gives up altogether.. and bows his head once more..
A sad soul plodding on.
He goes on, trying not to let it show.. But deep inside he's broken, battered and bleeding.
The burden just won't seem to lift.
I wish I could share his burden.. but I can't. Perhaps no one can, except for the One he has chosen to follow. But the road is narrow, long and hard. Yet somehow, he knows he'll get there someday..
Home.
How he wishes others could come home with him, too. But they seem beyond reach his reach. They go their own way. He feels helpless.
Anguish fills his heart.
He wonders if God must feel the same. Did God feel the same way for him back when he too was still lost and stubbornly going his own way? Towards ruin..
Self-destruction.
The answer is no. No, God probably feels even more strongly than anyone could ever imagine. Not only for him back then, but also for them who are still lost and who have yet to find the Way..
Who have yet to find their way home.
He cries out and prays that God would bring them home.
If it be His will, then please let it be his consolation.Labels: inside the self, the walk |
| posted by remrick @ 2:32 PM |
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| Friday, April 04, 2008 |
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concern
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It's strange.
They hope I'm okay...
Mentors always seem to have a way of knowing... *Sighs*Labels: inside the self, the walk |
| posted by remrick @ 4:23 PM |
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| Monday, March 24, 2008 |
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Truth
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The silence stares at us...
Questioning. Waiting. As if straining to hear...
Bated breaths coming in reply.
The three of us stare back. Lost. Blank stares of our own. Swallowed by the night. Slinking into shadows.
Just when the answers started coming.
Just then...
I walk up the stairs; struggling for every scrap of dignity. Steadying my steps. My head floating. My chest about to burst. Butterflies gone wild in my stomach.
I try to stare back at every eye that meets my own.
Searching for answers in faces full of questions.
So many questions...
I think it's time I commit myself to really pray for someone. Make that a few people. They need it. God knows they do. I need to bring them There. So hard it should come like breathing.
So hard...Labels: inside the self, ragings, the walk |
| posted by remrick @ 2:09 PM |
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| Sunday, February 24, 2008 |
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blindess
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Blink.
Blink-blink-blink.
Blink. Here I go again with all this blinking. My friends simply tell me I have "beautiful eyes." And everytime I try to keep these 'beautiful eyes' from blinking like mad, my eyesight starts to swim. These eyes are failing me once more. I can't blame them though. Maybe I just haven't been taking care of them enough lately. Like the way I haven't been taking care of a lot of things. And what with all the exams and requirements these past weeks, not to mention my extra-curricular activities, responsibilities and commitments. But that's not really much of an excuse now, is it? As my vision wavers, I can't seem to keep my eyes on the real goals anymore. Everything's a blur. The things that matter have been obscured. I am groping in the darkness, hoping for a hand to reach out and hold mine. Hoping that that someone would lead me home and take away my blindness. Hoping for grace-healed eyes. Right now, all I want is to lie down and close these eyes... only to open them again in my dreams. But it's all the same, isn't it? Even the solace I find dreams and make-believe is just another form of blindness. I believe they call it 'delusion'. I can't decide which is worse. Maybe I'd rather have the delusion than face the reality of a life of deterioration. And it's all because of my own doing. Let these eyes have their rest. Labels: inside the self, the walk |
| posted by remrick @ 3:15 PM |
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| Wednesday, February 20, 2008 |
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light(!)
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How do you hold on to the light when, like fireworks that blossom in the night sky, it flickers and fades away right before your eyes?Labels: the walk |
| posted by remrick @ 3:29 PM |
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| Wednesday, January 23, 2008 |
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Old me
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Going over my past posts and reading them again after quite some time triggered an upwelling of mixed emotions within me: anger and excitement, happiness and sadness, the melancholy and the funny, but predominantly a feeling of enjoyment.
I ask myself: Did I enjoy life more back then? From reading my posts, it would seem so. And call me conceited, but yes, I do enjoy reading my own blog posts. Sometimes, and of late, even more than my spiritual journal.
Maybe it's because my blog is supposed to reflect my life, with all its ups and downs. It's okay to mess up and fail. It's equally okay to be bubbling with excitement at one time or to be hopelessly blue at another. That's life. All sorts of things happen, and you just have to accept that. So all those things go into writing, faithfully recorded, here in my blog.
As for my spiritual journal, there's always a certain 'pressure to be positive'. I mean, I'm supposed to be a Christian. Christians are supposed to be joyful people. But what if I find little to be joyful about? Christians are supposed to grow in faith and bear fruit. But what if I feel that I haven't been growing at all and every single day's a spiritual struggle to make it through? What if the darkness won't seem to lift and there's no light at the end of the tunnel just yet? What's written there, and what's not, only makes me miss the joy of old that I used to have. And with my current condition, there is very little, if any, that I would want to put into words anymore. It would only make me more depressed.
In contrast, reading my old blogs and some of my very first posts thrills me. Never mind the errors in syntax and punctuation, the pathetic attempts at poetry or the feeble strivings at prose. As I was going over those old posts, I couldn't help but wonder: What happened?
It's hard to explain. My posts back then seem to have had more vitality... more life... All the emotions in varying kinds and intensities jump out at me from my own posts. But now, I feel that my writing and my more recent posts are 'constrained'... It's as if I've lost the freedom to be 'me' in my own blog. The posts are poor reflections of the realities in my own life. And there's a creeping sense of jadedness and resignation... maybe even defeatism...
The colors are gone. The emotions are stale. The writing tends to be just that, writing - letters on paper or words on the screen... flat and in a certain way, repressed.
Why? Where has the zest for life and spontaneity gone?
I don't know. That statement used to be a favorite in my old posts. And so is the frequent use of ellipses.
I'm still looking for that 'something' that's gone missing... that old spark of life in my posts... *Sigh* I wish I could get it back... recover what's been lost...
Maybe my current blog and my spiritual journal aren't so different, after all. What has happened to both seem to show stagnation and both tell the same story of general decline.
Where is the old 'me'? Or is that all there's left of me now?
An 'old me'.Labels: inside the self, the walk |
| posted by remrick @ 1:02 PM |
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| Saturday, December 01, 2007 |
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bleeding
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The once glorious truths have now become stale for me. Like dust and ashes on my tongue. I need to be renewed, refreshed.
Sometimes I wish that the struggle would finally just stop. I'd rather that it end now than that I would dishonor my Lord.
But these things are not for me to determine so.
Meanwhile, I desperately cling on...
hurting and bleeding from self-inflicted wounds...Labels: the walk |
| posted by remrick @ 2:45 PM |
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| Friday, November 16, 2007 |
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'Erap'
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Disclaimer: No, this isn't a political commentary on the colorful character that is Joseph Ejercito Estrada or his recent pardon.
A light drizzle had begun to fall, but I refused to open my umbrella. I felt the pinpricks of cold wetness falling on my skin. Being the stubborn person that I am, I let it be.
Minutes later, after having ticked off the items in my grocery list and bought myself some dinner, I ran out of cash. I decided to walk to the ATMs at the other side of the SC. It was there that I met Erap.
Joseph, a.k.a. "Erap," is a grimy little boy whom I reckon to be not more than ten years of age. (With the effects of malnutrition and the possibility of stunted growth, it's hard to tell.) He's a regular at the SC, a "kalaykay boy" who's either scavenging for PET bottles or going around begging from the people in the vicinity. He was playing with the ATM that a lady had just vacated. When he saw me coming, he stepped aside and uttered his lines:
"Kuya, penge pong barya. Pangkain ko lang po."
I averted my eyes and didn't mind him, which is how I usually react to those who beg for money. He moved on to the lady at the next machine. After withdrawing money, I remembered the pansit that I had opted to buy at the last minute. I could have chosen to just go on ignoring the kid, but I decided to offer him the pansit. Surprisingly, he refused. He insisted on being given cash. My first reaction was like: The ingrate, and he has the nerve to refuse my charity. But he explained:
"Kuya, pera na lang po. Beinte pesos, pambili ko lang ng kanin at sabaw. 'Di po ako bibili ng kung anu-ano, hindi naman po ako nagsisinungaling."
I don't know what happened or the how and why of it, but something just gave in inside me right then. At that moment, I believed him when he said he was telling the truth.
"Saan ka bibili ng pagkain?" I ventured.
"Doon po, sa Balara."
He explained that it was cheaper to buy food there and that he needed only 25 pesos to buy "kanin at sabaw" for his siblings. No mention of his parents though.
"Ilan kayong magkakapatid?"
"Marami," was his simple reply.
I told him I'd see if I still had enough change to spare. I came up with 25 pesos and asked:
"Bakit ka andito?"
"Nanghihingi po. Eto nga po oh, binigyan ako," referring to the C2 bottle he was clutching.
I handed him the money.
"Pang-kain mo lang 'yan ha," I reminded him and got up, preparing to leave.
"Teka lang po, bilangin ko..." he pleaded.
Again, I was surpised. Didn't he trust me? But I dismissed that line of thinking and reasoned out that maybe he just wanted to make sure he had enough money to buy food. So we counted off the coins - 25 pesos in all.
"O, uwi ka na ha? Gabi na. Ano nga pangalan mo?"
"Joseph."
"Ikaw ba 'yung madalas tumambay sa may Green Shoppe at tinatawag nilang 'Erap'?"
"Opo," he brightened up as he nodded his head. Perhaps sensing my confusion or reading my puzzled expression, he quickly added: "Kaya nga po 'Erap' eh, kasi 'Joseph' ang pangalan ko, " he beamed at me. I got the drift.
How did I know his nickname? Well, I already had an unpleasant encounter with him before at the Green Shoppe. He was the same grimy, smelly and snot-nosed boy that annoyingly kept looking over my shoulder or sidling up to me while I was watching anime. I could still remember how pissed off I was. The kid repulsed me. Why? Because he stinks and doesn't have the luxury of showers and decent clothes? Or maybe because he - who probably doesn't have TV at home, let alone ineternet - was intruding on my precious leisure time simply out of childlike curiosity?
I remembered and stared at him real hard, right then. The kid had just taught me valuable lesson. I saw how wrong I had been. I saw reflected in his eyes, just how much of a jerk I can be at times. I felt my heart rending. He is just a kid, after all. A very deprived one, at that. A victim of the circumstances, he doesn't deserve to be in this situation.
I handed him the pansit. I told him to give to the sister he kept mentioning and share it with his siblings, and admonished him to go home straight away.
"Saan ka ba nakatira?"
"Sa Balara din po..." then he added expectanty: "Hatid niyo po ako?"
I was caught unaware - again. The boy had a knack for catching me off guard. I looked at him and those bright, young eyes stared back up at me.
Why'd he suddenly ask that question? But then again, why would he not? As a kid, wasn't I like that, too? Who am I to deny children the right to be optimistic, to expect some goodness from other people - the right to hope?
But I had to turn him down, reasoning out that I had to go back to the dorm and that it was raining and all. But when I told him that we could together for some distance, he brightened up again. When we came to the street, and I told him I had to go another way, he knit his brows and said:
"Ay, ibang daan po 'yan. Dito po ako," he said as a matter of fact and pointed to his left.
I insisted on that I had to go and bade him goodbye. As I crossed the street, he called out:
"Kuya! Ano pong pangalan niyo?"
I looked back and said: "Rem."
I don't know if he got it right, but he seemed to have repeated it to himself and went his way.
God knows that it wasn't even the least that I could do. And he isn't alone. There are many more Josephs and Eraps out there. I met one such boy in Antique; his name is Ga-a. Despite their appearances, mannerisms or backgrounds, they are still children. And no one, especially myself, should be depriving them of their childhood, of their being childlike, of their being children.
The original Erap may have been proven guilty, but God used a little boy that bears the former president's name to convict me of my own guilt and to show me that before that boy named Erap, I was the one who's guilty. I have much to learn from these little children.
 The boy named Ga-a
I remember Ga-a, whom at first, I kept my distance from. But I, and the missions team, soon saw in him the child that was in need - hungry for all that he had been deprived of... love from a seemingly uncaring father and a mother whom he had lost at an early age. In essence, it was for people like them that our missions trip was all about. May I learn to to have a heart for these children, and compassion for those who are lost, the downtrodden and the poor.
"Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these."" (Matthew 19:14)
"Whoever welcomes a little child like this in my name welcomes me." (Matthew 18:5)Labels: rantings, the walk |
| posted by remrick @ 2:34 PM |
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| Sunday, August 26, 2007 |
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How do you hold on to the light when, like fireworks that blossom in the night sky, it flickers and fades away right before your eyes?Labels: the walk |
| posted by remrick @ 12:15 PM |
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| Saturday, July 07, 2007 |
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stand up
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It has been a sad day.
No one's to blame; I know they couldn't always be there. They have needs, problems, and struggles of their own, too. Just like me.
And right now, I guess I'm being taught to give to people whom I expected to receive from.
Even if I don't like it, there comes a time when people have to step up. If not for myself, then at least for others who matter to me.
Even if I'm not sure if my own knees will hold, I've got to get up and help others to stand as well.Labels: the walk |
| posted by remrick @ 3:38 PM |
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| Wednesday, July 04, 2007 |
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swept away
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As I said, the the past weeks of the sem so far have gone by like a blur. I get this weird feeling like I jumped into a lot of things without really knowing what I was getting into. I can't even compose my thoughts properly right now, I'm just barely keeping up with my academics, and I suddenly find myself taking on new responsibilities in the dorm, in my orgs and all my other extra-curricular activities.
For one, I was elected corridor representative of our wing. It's cool, actually, because I can help out and I was sort of forced to get to know everybody, especially the many newbies, despite being the anti-social person that I am. But dealing with a lot of people is taxing, and it strains my meager social skills. And I have to be a role model, and keep my testimony, too.
And then there's YCF. A lot of things are going on in the fellowship so far this year. Not that I'm complaining of the workload; it's just that I'm not used to being a 'leader' of sorts and being the point-person in our wing. I mean, last year, I was just a regular attendee; but now I'm part of the core group. And I'm still adjusting to that and all the responsibilities. People naturally expect more from me and sometimes it's hard to take the initiative with people who are older and probably more mature than I am in the faith. I mean, what authority do I have? Who am I, anyway? Barely 2 years as a believer, and less than a year in my Christian walk... that doesn't say much of me at all.
Speaking of my walk, a conversation with Kuya Jaylord one Sunday night got me thinking. He was asking if we could have lunch together sometime. He clarified that he wasn't going to mentor me, just that he wanted to get to know more and focus on the members of the YCF core. And I was like: "Oo nga noh... I never thought of that..." Maybe the fact that my discipler has left the dorm is just starting to sink in on me. Since Kuya Poy left, I never really had anyone teaching me and regularly checking on me. Well, I do have a lot of mentors, a lot of kuyas in the fellowship and the church. But, it's just different. I miss small group Bible studies. Especially since my last and only one was cut short and fairly short-lived. I must admit, nabitin ako doon. I miss having someone follow-up on me every now and then. But I don't really blame anyone. Things just change so suddenly. Although I am part of a Bible study group right now, I have to be honest in saying that I don't really think it meets my needs that much anymore. It's a fairly large and diverse group (about 8-10 of us), each one of us having very different needs. I can't, and I don't, blame Kuya Butch. Besides, the needs of the younger guys in the group take precedence. Meanwhile, the older guys also need more attention to be equipped for their ministries. I'm just somewhere in between.
Does it seem like I'm just hungry for attention? God forgive me if I am. But it'd be really proud of me to say that I don't need anyone to mentor me. I do need a mentor. Someone who can regularly check on me and my actions, because I haven't been able to watch myself ever since the start of this busy sem. Someone who can teach me things I want and need to know, and answer the many questions that pop up as I continue my walk. As more and more things are demanded and expected of me, I realize that I need to be dependent more and more on other people, especially older Christians. Or is is just me and my personality?
Sometimes, I stop myself and think. Maybe I'm rushing things a bit. Maybe I don't need to be as mature as other people would want me to be.
Huh, I dunno. A lot of things are on my mind most of the time. It would be nice if I could find a lot of time alone for myself, and maybe just think things over. But it would also be nice to have a mentor to talk to and help me sort through all this...Labels: the walk |
| posted by remrick @ 11:42 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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Ranting away... | Blogger Templates by Gecko & Fly.
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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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