Have you ever experienced waking up in the middle of the night and suddenly doubtful of your existence?
Sometimes I do.
There are times when I wake up asking myself if I am really in this world or If everything is an imagination. Sometimes I would question the reality of what I am seeing around me. There are times when I would even ask myself if the people around me really exists or if all of them are just fragments of my imagination. And of course, what about my own existence? Am I really here or am I just an imagination?
I know its crazy. But there it is.
Is everything real or is everything abstract?
Honestly, sometimes I am not really sure.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Raindrops and Hot Chocolates
The tears and the rain seem to have one thing in common; they always fall when you don’t want them to.
The rain has been pouring for almost an hour and the world around me starts to get flooded. The wind blowing in the background reminds me of a time not so long ago – a time that I would prefer not to remember.
It’s in times like this that I would find myself wishing I was at home again – a five-year old kid sitting by the stairs, listening to the wind, waiting for the rain to stop, and secured in a little haven I used to call home. As the rain continues to pour, I see myself again in that afternoon fourteen years ago, sitting by the stairs with my elder brother. I was crying, scared to death by the thunder and lightning and clinging to my brother hoping that his presence would drive away the sound. It is this exact memory that would always flash in my mind every time it storms. It is this memory that makes me wish there was no rain.
Needless to say, the memory was of long ago. It may seem a memory of comfort, a memory of a brother’s love for a sister, but it is this memory that would often bring tears into my eyes. It is the mere fact that it is nothing but a memory and could never be brought back again. The thought hurts me and makes me hate it even more.
You see, fourteen years after that stormy afternoon, everything became so different. From that comforting scene, only the rain, the thunder, and the lightning remained. Gone is the home that used to comfort me, gone is the tearful little girl crying scared because of the rain and gone is the little boy who used to give me security and promised to build me a big house with a 24-hour lock system when he grows up.
Yes, everything is just a memory now. The boy is now a man and like everything else around me, so different from the boy who once sat beside me, covered my ears and told me that everything will be alright.
Every raindrop reminds me of the games we used to play, the hours we spent with each other, and the many other things we did. I remembered we used to make paper planes and paper boats on rainy days. I remember the hot chocolate that kept us company in moments as desolate as that stormy afternoon and the hugs that were as warm as the drink. I remember the time when we were both scolded for playing along the drainage but we never really cared; as long as were together, we were happy. I used to love the rain then. With my brother, it always meant fun.
But that was before. Home has long been forgotten, the memory erased but not entirely gone, and the hot chocolate has long gone cold. What can I give just to bring back the brother that was once mine? How I wish the pouring rain could somehow transport me back to that time of long ago. And if it couldn’t, I wish God would stop sending the rain so I wouldn’t have to get hurt anymore.
Yes, he is gone. In his place is a man I could hardly call a brother; devoid of warmth and recognition. His once innocent aura has already been replaced with something that is only a notch lower than ominous. His once gentle voice has been replaced by a booming nasty one. My source of comfort has become my source of pain.
Of course, it is now unlikely that we play in the rain and it is also impossible for time to freeze just to bring me back to that day, fourteen years ago.
I know it’s not impossible though to bring back a thing from the past. If God could send in the rain, He could bring my brother back to me. I am not asking for the treasures of the world, I only want my brother back.
I could hate the rain forever and I know that I could never bring back my brother’s old self. I could only sit by the stairs again, listen to the rain with my hot chocolate in hand and hope that one of these days, my brother would sit beside me like he used to do. Only then will the tears stop falling.
The rain has been pouring for almost an hour and the world around me starts to get flooded. The wind blowing in the background reminds me of a time not so long ago – a time that I would prefer not to remember.
It’s in times like this that I would find myself wishing I was at home again – a five-year old kid sitting by the stairs, listening to the wind, waiting for the rain to stop, and secured in a little haven I used to call home. As the rain continues to pour, I see myself again in that afternoon fourteen years ago, sitting by the stairs with my elder brother. I was crying, scared to death by the thunder and lightning and clinging to my brother hoping that his presence would drive away the sound. It is this exact memory that would always flash in my mind every time it storms. It is this memory that makes me wish there was no rain.
Needless to say, the memory was of long ago. It may seem a memory of comfort, a memory of a brother’s love for a sister, but it is this memory that would often bring tears into my eyes. It is the mere fact that it is nothing but a memory and could never be brought back again. The thought hurts me and makes me hate it even more.You see, fourteen years after that stormy afternoon, everything became so different. From that comforting scene, only the rain, the thunder, and the lightning remained. Gone is the home that used to comfort me, gone is the tearful little girl crying scared because of the rain and gone is the little boy who used to give me security and promised to build me a big house with a 24-hour lock system when he grows up.
Yes, everything is just a memory now. The boy is now a man and like everything else around me, so different from the boy who once sat beside me, covered my ears and told me that everything will be alright.
Every raindrop reminds me of the games we used to play, the hours we spent with each other, and the many other things we did. I remembered we used to make paper planes and paper boats on rainy days. I remember the hot chocolate that kept us company in moments as desolate as that stormy afternoon and the hugs that were as warm as the drink. I remember the time when we were both scolded for playing along the drainage but we never really cared; as long as were together, we were happy. I used to love the rain then. With my brother, it always meant fun.
But that was before. Home has long been forgotten, the memory erased but not entirely gone, and the hot chocolate has long gone cold. What can I give just to bring back the brother that was once mine? How I wish the pouring rain could somehow transport me back to that time of long ago. And if it couldn’t, I wish God would stop sending the rain so I wouldn’t have to get hurt anymore.
Yes, he is gone. In his place is a man I could hardly call a brother; devoid of warmth and recognition. His once innocent aura has already been replaced with something that is only a notch lower than ominous. His once gentle voice has been replaced by a booming nasty one. My source of comfort has become my source of pain.
Of course, it is now unlikely that we play in the rain and it is also impossible for time to freeze just to bring me back to that day, fourteen years ago.
I know it’s not impossible though to bring back a thing from the past. If God could send in the rain, He could bring my brother back to me. I am not asking for the treasures of the world, I only want my brother back.
I could hate the rain forever and I know that I could never bring back my brother’s old self. I could only sit by the stairs again, listen to the rain with my hot chocolate in hand and hope that one of these days, my brother would sit beside me like he used to do. Only then will the tears stop falling.
The Road to success...
…is under construction
The road to success is temporarily blocked and unless you go and find another way, you’ll never get pass. Success is a road that is always under construction. Delays are normal and road bumps are to be expected.
You can’t blame anybody for the delay though, or for the potholes along the way. The road has only one maintenance man, one care taker, one engineer: YOU. It’s a highway that is unique in itself. It is the only road in the world where you are not allowed to just sit and wait for other people to cover the potholes for you or put asphalts in the pavement. You have to do it your way or you suffer. There is no other way.
Success is a long road; a long winding, scary, bumpy, adventurous, challenging, and rough road full of twists and turns. You never know what lies ahead. The biggest troubles and surprises lies in this road. The views are far from scenic and are often boring that very seldom chooses this road though a lot would want to travel it.
A lot of people would try to find the shortest route towards their goal; a shortcut, the easiest way to reach the pedestal. But very few realize that the real road to success has no shortcuts. If you really want to reach the zenith you have to travel the long winding road. And this is the only surest and proven way to succeed.
Like normal roads, road blocks are also common. Sometimes these blocks are so huge that it takes time before you could get through it. Of course, sometimes detours are unavoidable. It lengthens your journey but it would surely get you there.
We all make our own roads. We are the ones who construct the highways of our lives. Every road we choose to travel paves the way to our destiny. We sometimes make a mistake and choose a path that leads us to nowhere or get lucky and choose the road less traveled. Whatever your decision is, the road you choose directs you to the kind of life you are going to live.
Crossroads, intersections, road blocks, all these are parts of the journey. Whichever of these we encounter, we all have to make the same decisions and given the same questions. Which road will you take? We decide with one thought, or perhaps without even thinking at all, it is a decision that could change our lives.
It is a very hard decision indeed. We have to choose with very limited option knowing that choosing the wrong way could make or break our dreams. On the lighter side, choosing the wrong way could also lead us to another way that is more exciting and self-fulfilling than the other way. Mistakes teach us to become better persons anyway. What matters is we learn from it and avoid it.
The road to success is long and hard but at the end of the journey is the end of the rainbow with the pot of gold, or, it could also be a pot of stone. One can never really be sure.
The road to success is temporarily blocked and unless you go and find another way, you’ll never get pass. Success is a road that is always under construction. Delays are normal and road bumps are to be expected.
You can’t blame anybody for the delay though, or for the potholes along the way. The road has only one maintenance man, one care taker, one engineer: YOU. It’s a highway that is unique in itself. It is the only road in the world where you are not allowed to just sit and wait for other people to cover the potholes for you or put asphalts in the pavement. You have to do it your way or you suffer. There is no other way.
Success is a long road; a long winding, scary, bumpy, adventurous, challenging, and rough road full of twists and turns. You never know what lies ahead. The biggest troubles and surprises lies in this road. The views are far from scenic and are often boring that very seldom chooses this road though a lot would want to travel it.
A lot of people would try to find the shortest route towards their goal; a shortcut, the easiest way to reach the pedestal. But very few realize that the real road to success has no shortcuts. If you really want to reach the zenith you have to travel the long winding road. And this is the only surest and proven way to succeed.
Like normal roads, road blocks are also common. Sometimes these blocks are so huge that it takes time before you could get through it. Of course, sometimes detours are unavoidable. It lengthens your journey but it would surely get you there.
We all make our own roads. We are the ones who construct the highways of our lives. Every road we choose to travel paves the way to our destiny. We sometimes make a mistake and choose a path that leads us to nowhere or get lucky and choose the road less traveled. Whatever your decision is, the road you choose directs you to the kind of life you are going to live.
Crossroads, intersections, road blocks, all these are parts of the journey. Whichever of these we encounter, we all have to make the same decisions and given the same questions. Which road will you take? We decide with one thought, or perhaps without even thinking at all, it is a decision that could change our lives.
It is a very hard decision indeed. We have to choose with very limited option knowing that choosing the wrong way could make or break our dreams. On the lighter side, choosing the wrong way could also lead us to another way that is more exciting and self-fulfilling than the other way. Mistakes teach us to become better persons anyway. What matters is we learn from it and avoid it.
The road to success is long and hard but at the end of the journey is the end of the rainbow with the pot of gold, or, it could also be a pot of stone. One can never really be sure.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Life and Death
So how would person feel if he is dying? I always wonder. How would it feel lying there, alone and taking what could probably be your last breathe? How would it feel seeing yourself inside a coffin (Presuming that ghosts are true.
Death is probably the most mysterious thing in the world. Nobody alive knows what lies behind its veils.The people who knows are obviously in no condition to tell us.
But why? Why do we have to die?…
Yes of course.."For the wages of sin is death…"
Sometimes i think it is so unfair that we struggle and sacrifice in this world only to die in the end. And take note, to die without anything. What legacy we may have left in this world (if there is) would be eventually forgotten by those we left.
We would only be forgotten and left rotting inside a reqtangular concrete "box". We would have nothing but the worms,roaches,grass and the ocassional flowers left by those who could remember.
MAybe that is why material things are nothing. Mere decorations of life. When you die not even the worlds most expensive jewelry could make you beautiful. Everybody would look the same, rotting corpse and grinning skeletons.
I guess it does not matter how long we had lived in this world but how much we had contributed. Not how rich we had lived but how well we would be remembered.
legacy. Only legacies. There would be nothing left but legacies.
If there's no tomorrow
If your life would end today, how do you want to be remembered?
If there would be no tomorrow, how will you spend this day?
If this is the last day of your life, who would you spend it with?
If you have reached the end the road, what will be the first thing you will do?
If you are given a chance to leave a final message, what will you say?
If this is would be the last time that you will be posting a blog, what will be the title of your post?
If this is your last hour on earth, what will you do?
So many questions...
waiting for your answers.
If there would be no tomorrow, how will you spend this day?
If this is the last day of your life, who would you spend it with?
If you have reached the end the road, what will be the first thing you will do?If you are given a chance to leave a final message, what will you say?
If this is would be the last time that you will be posting a blog, what will be the title of your post?
If this is your last hour on earth, what will you do?
So many questions...
waiting for your answers.
Monday, November 17, 2008
Perfectly Imperfect
"Nobody's perfect".
We hear it commonly enough. We have always perceive this world as imperfect no matter how many times we try to convince ourselves that its otherwise. There will always be flaws and nothing is ever enough.
But I don't honestly agree that there is no such thing as perfect in this world. I think perfection is simply a state of mind. We think nothing is perfect because we, unconsciously, look for the faults in everything happening to us instead of accepting everything as a part of our lives.
Imperfection makes our lives perfect. It is these tiny flaws that confirms our existence as mere biological beings who will always be susceptible to commit mistakes. It is these mistakes, big and small, that help us learn. It is our learning that molds us to be the person that we are meant to be. It is what we are that makes the world perfect.
I don't believe that we are ever imperfect for we are created by no other than The Most High and not by some bored geneticist. We are not born out of a catastrophe like what the Big Bang theory suggests. We were created by God with love.
Perfection is a state of mind. That is why it differs from one person to another. Things does not necessarily have to be expensive or gigantic to be perfect. A simple thing could be perfect.
The balance created by good and bad makes the world perfect. The pains and joys we encounter makes the world perfect. All these makes the world perfect because it confirms our being. The existence of good and evil is a sure proof that we are still alive and earthbound.
because the perception of perfection differs from one person to another, nobody could really say that our world is perfect. We see flaws, we see errors, we see mistakes but that also makes the world perfect.
Failures and success. Pains and laughter. trials and triumphs. All these makes our world perfect, for what is life without it?
We hear it commonly enough. We have always perceive this world as imperfect no matter how many times we try to convince ourselves that its otherwise. There will always be flaws and nothing is ever enough.
But I don't honestly agree that there is no such thing as perfect in this world. I think perfection is simply a state of mind. We think nothing is perfect because we, unconsciously, look for the faults in everything happening to us instead of accepting everything as a part of our lives.
Imperfection makes our lives perfect. It is these tiny flaws that confirms our existence as mere biological beings who will always be susceptible to commit mistakes. It is these mistakes, big and small, that help us learn. It is our learning that molds us to be the person that we are meant to be. It is what we are that makes the world perfect.
I don't believe that we are ever imperfect for we are created by no other than The Most High and not by some bored geneticist. We are not born out of a catastrophe like what the Big Bang theory suggests. We were created by God with love.
Perfection is a state of mind. That is why it differs from one person to another. Things does not necessarily have to be expensive or gigantic to be perfect. A simple thing could be perfect.
The balance created by good and bad makes the world perfect. The pains and joys we encounter makes the world perfect. All these makes the world perfect because it confirms our being. The existence of good and evil is a sure proof that we are still alive and earthbound.
because the perception of perfection differs from one person to another, nobody could really say that our world is perfect. We see flaws, we see errors, we see mistakes but that also makes the world perfect.
Failures and success. Pains and laughter. trials and triumphs. All these makes our world perfect, for what is life without it?
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Bathroom thoughts: random and unplotted
What makes the world evil? have you ever wondered? What makes us hurt the people we love? And why do we push them away if they are important to us? There are a lot of unfathomable things in this world.
Little by little we step into the unknowns. Everyday is a void, a dark space that hides the things that we have to and want to see.
Isn't it a wonder why those we cared for the most are often the first ones taken from us? Why do we always have to be left behind with the people that we don't like? Maybe because God knows that we can never learn to like or love those we don't want while those we adore are still with us. Maybe God knows that we can only appreciate the people around us when they are the only ones we have left.
Every human being is intrinsically evil as they are intrinsically good. We all have our evils sides. No matter how pious or angelic we may be, we all have the tendency to do evil. On the same manner, we also have the tendency to do good no matter how bad we may be.
God gave us eyes to see the beauty of the world but why do we often see evil than good. Why do we see the ugly things more often than those that are pleasant. Is it because we are born with a blindspot for everything that is good? Or is it because we can simply appreciate more those that are wrong than those things that are right?
Are we evil? Are humans really that bad? We know what is good and right yet we do what is wrong. We despise others if they do the things we know as bad but we do those things ourselves.
I guess it is true that man's greatest enemy is himself. I guess, scientists had it wrong when they concluded that we are the most intelligent of all the species. Aside from being both good and evil, man is intrinsically stupid. He knows what is right but he keeps on doing what is wrong. We are stupid enough to create things we know would only harm us in the end. We are stupid enough to submit to our whims even if we know what will happen after. We are stupid no matter how much we try to educate our selves. We know the secrets of the depths, created machines that made our lives easier, machines that made the world better yet uglier and deadlier at the same time; we know a lot of things yet we are stupid.
We are all hypocrites pretending, and insisting to the point of death, that what we are doing is the most righteous way to do when we know deep inside that we are wrong all along.
The world is full of mysteries and questions. Nobody can answer and we can only keep on questioning without getting anything. The more we try to understand the world the more the more unfathomable it becomes. We uncover one mystery then we are plagued by ten more mysteries.
Questions. Life is full of questions but it offers very few answers.
[note: copied from my other blog.]
Little by little we step into the unknowns. Everyday is a void, a dark space that hides the things that we have to and want to see.
Isn't it a wonder why those we cared for the most are often the first ones taken from us? Why do we always have to be left behind with the people that we don't like? Maybe because God knows that we can never learn to like or love those we don't want while those we adore are still with us. Maybe God knows that we can only appreciate the people around us when they are the only ones we have left.
Every human being is intrinsically evil as they are intrinsically good. We all have our evils sides. No matter how pious or angelic we may be, we all have the tendency to do evil. On the same manner, we also have the tendency to do good no matter how bad we may be.
God gave us eyes to see the beauty of the world but why do we often see evil than good. Why do we see the ugly things more often than those that are pleasant. Is it because we are born with a blindspot for everything that is good? Or is it because we can simply appreciate more those that are wrong than those things that are right?
Are we evil? Are humans really that bad? We know what is good and right yet we do what is wrong. We despise others if they do the things we know as bad but we do those things ourselves.
I guess it is true that man's greatest enemy is himself. I guess, scientists had it wrong when they concluded that we are the most intelligent of all the species. Aside from being both good and evil, man is intrinsically stupid. He knows what is right but he keeps on doing what is wrong. We are stupid enough to create things we know would only harm us in the end. We are stupid enough to submit to our whims even if we know what will happen after. We are stupid no matter how much we try to educate our selves. We know the secrets of the depths, created machines that made our lives easier, machines that made the world better yet uglier and deadlier at the same time; we know a lot of things yet we are stupid.
We are all hypocrites pretending, and insisting to the point of death, that what we are doing is the most righteous way to do when we know deep inside that we are wrong all along.
The world is full of mysteries and questions. Nobody can answer and we can only keep on questioning without getting anything. The more we try to understand the world the more the more unfathomable it becomes. We uncover one mystery then we are plagued by ten more mysteries.
Questions. Life is full of questions but it offers very few answers.
[note: copied from my other blog.]
Finding Myself
If you look in the mirror what do you see?
Once, I tried gazing at myself in front of the mirror. I looked as intently as I could trying to find something that could make me different from the rest.
I looked and looked but I found nothing. Everything in me is ordinary. I am so ordinary. Left in a crowd, I will never stand out. I am not bitter though. Being invisible suites me just fine. I prefer not to be seen by the people around me. I prefer to blend in the crowd.
I looked beyond the reflection I see in the mirror and I did not like what I saw. On the outside I am nothing and on the inside, I am something. Something dreadful.
The mirror could not show beauty, it could show me what I really am. I am a creature devoid of creativity. I lack a sense of fun. I am stubborn and aloof. I am as uninteresting as the leaves falling from the trees. People will not look twice when they see me.
I tried to change. I tried to be different. I tried to be light and creative. But the old me refuses to go under. I tried so hard but it only made me unhappy. I lost myself as I try to find my place in this world. In my attempt to fit in, I lost the real me. I was never the same again.
I was bad and I tried to be good. I got what I wanted when I wished to be different. I was different but I was never happy. I was bad at being bad and I was worst at being good. I only wanted to correct the mistakes but never felt right.
I lost myself and so I tried to find it. I searched and searched and I almost failed. If only I could merge the old and the new me. If only it's not so hard to be good.
if only...
Once, I tried gazing at myself in front of the mirror. I looked as intently as I could trying to find something that could make me different from the rest.
I looked and looked but I found nothing. Everything in me is ordinary. I am so ordinary. Left in a crowd, I will never stand out. I am not bitter though. Being invisible suites me just fine. I prefer not to be seen by the people around me. I prefer to blend in the crowd.
I looked beyond the reflection I see in the mirror and I did not like what I saw. On the outside I am nothing and on the inside, I am something. Something dreadful.
The mirror could not show beauty, it could show me what I really am. I am a creature devoid of creativity. I lack a sense of fun. I am stubborn and aloof. I am as uninteresting as the leaves falling from the trees. People will not look twice when they see me.
I tried to change. I tried to be different. I tried to be light and creative. But the old me refuses to go under. I tried so hard but it only made me unhappy. I lost myself as I try to find my place in this world. In my attempt to fit in, I lost the real me. I was never the same again.
I was bad and I tried to be good. I got what I wanted when I wished to be different. I was different but I was never happy. I was bad at being bad and I was worst at being good. I only wanted to correct the mistakes but never felt right.
I lost myself and so I tried to find it. I searched and searched and I almost failed. If only I could merge the old and the new me. If only it's not so hard to be good.
if only...
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