A Tabloid's Lesson...

As my first entry I would like this article to be didactic (haha a word I mostly encounter but never given a chance to be looked up in the dictionary. Well, not until yesterday when I scanned Garcia Marquez's Hundred Years of Solitude). I would like to share a lesson I have learned from a tabloid. Yes, a tabloid. I skim all sorts of reading materials including graffiti. I even waste time reading messages on cubicle walls best heard in Joe D'Mango's station. There is nothing wrong about reading a tabloid specifically "Bulgar" every morning, is there? I enjoy reading C. Fermin's blind items, so what?

Yesterday, after finishing the entertainment section in Bulgar I decided to browse the page before the sports section. It was a page exclusive for advice seekers. There was an article about a man complaining how much his life burdens him. It was irksome. I resent people who complains too much. Then my irritation was gradually washed out when I started reading the receiver's (a professor) reply. (I would not copy it here since I have no idea where that newspaper is now. But I would just write the same thought the way I understood it.)

"Many religious people mistake predicaments as trials. What they do not understand is that, the troubles that we had encountered in our lives was caused by no other than our own mistakes. If God is a good God like what everybody believes, why would He allow problems to occur in our lives when we certainly do not deserve it? He created us, therefore would a Good Creator destroy His own creation with never-ending problems? It is our past wrong actions that incites troubles to occur. So, don't we ever blame God."

Hmm... Very reflective. But I still wondered why some holy people still have problems. Then I asked myself, who can really say a person is undoubtedly holy? Everybody is a sinner. That is beyond doubt.

Well, I must say some tabloids are not really that bad...

Guess Who's Writing... Again?

Hi guys! What's up with everyone?

I'm currently on the status of rummaging the artistic and poetic part of my brain for new ideas to impose in my freshly-thought story. I had just finished my latest love story "The Yearbook", which had gained some nice feedbacks on the story line but negative ones on the linguistic rules (which I have really expected).

I have not yet come up with a fitting title for my new story. But "Run Away" has passed by brain cells for the plot revolves around the journey of 4 tough women through unexpected friendships, heartaches, professional afflictions and through realization of their own life. One of my pakners, Janice, encouraged me last Thursday to finish this one when I had informed her and Kristine about it. Oh well, how I wish I could. For 6 years, (merci Dieu!) I have only finished 4 pathetic stories! Well, that's me! Blame it on the sporadic creations of my mind!

I really wish I could finish this one. I'm absolutely excited about finishing this novel! Actually, I'm about to finish the first chapter. Just pray I don't get stuck in it.

Good Night Everyone! Take Care!

Letting Go...

There it goes, up in the sky
There it goes, beyond the clouds
For no reason why
I can't cry hard enough
I can't cry hard enough
For you to hear me now

Today makes no sense whatsoever. The hole of loneliness is still in the depths of my broken heart. It's been 5 months since we broke up, but for me, it always felt like yesterday. I wonder how I could get over it. Over the pain. I wonder when I would get over him.

Everything was perfect. I love him. He loves me. Everything was a dream. A transformation of all of those teenage daydreams into a magical reality. October 2004, a month I could never forget in my whole damned life. I met him at last and fell in love. It was like those days when it seemed like everything in your life was going wrong and then you saw him, talked to him and everything just suddenly went right. Everything changed and I was happy. Until the month of October ended and I felt like everything went back to where they used to be. To “normal”. I had sensed that he had changed and the magic between us had ended. I wonder why, so soon. The loneliness, the problems started to float from where I have tried to sink them, the dejavu of feeling rejected and unworthy once again. The unfathomable abyss where I had tried to bury all of these tribulations was hollowed out. He was the one who took it all away, the one who helped me bury it. But in time, he himself dug it out and gave it all back to me.

I wanted to tell him how much I hate him. But then, I don’t have the right. I’m only a hopeless romantic who prays every night that someday I may find the love I’ve been searching for, for years. I’m a mere desperate child craving for attention and assurance that I am loved by the people around me and I am worth loving.

I hate him. But still, I can’t, because this is my karma. My karma for being the selfish bitch that I am. I took him for granted the first time I’ve ever called him my boyfriend. I used him to carry away the solitude that’s engraved in my poor heart. I can’t hate him. I can’t hate him because I know even in that lone month, he had made me the happiest person in the world. Even in that short period of time, I know I would never regret having him to love and to care for so much. It still hurts. The pain of being left alone once again is still warm. He had left me scared and lost. Scared of being hurt once again and lost in the arms of confusion and self-doubt.

I know one day, I’m going to fall in love again. I don’t care if it’s tomorrow, the next day or the next decade. I just want to fall in love again. I’m still scared, yes, but I want to try it again. There’s still hesitation, but if love knocks on my door, I’m not going to turn my back on it. I know it’s crazy and you might think I’m crazy too, but it’s just that… I felt like I’m bound to be lonely for the rest of my life…