Somebody told me off today and said I am hostile, and that I SHOULD care a little bit more of what other people think of me. I beg your pardon but I just want to do something I wasn't able to do a while ago while we were talking.. and that is to let this out-- BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!!!!
Wow, her being condescending blew me away. And she knows me what, 2 months? Tell me if I'm being too uptight here but I usually don't consider acquaintances reliable source of insights as to what kind of person I am.
We go back to our interesting conversation a while ago. I thought we had something worthwhile going since the main theme of our conversation was honesty. She went ahead saying why she has become the person she is now, unmotivated and under productive because she's been putting up with a lot of BS for quite a while now. Instinctively, I told her she doesn't have to eat crap everyday, and that she has a choice. She suddenly changed gears and asked, "is that what you think I am, unmotivated and under productive"? I was so tempted to say that everything she's been yakking about can be summed up by those 2 words. It was either she was in denial she's those two un-words, or we have differences in our definition of terms.
Since the topic about her (which she totally introduced) began to make her feel uncomfortable, she volunteered to make ME the next subject. She went ahead and overwhelmed me with her self-declared keeness by saying "tahimik lang ako pero marunong ako bumasa ng tao". SURE, DARLING, SURE. Now if I were her, I wouldn't oversell myself like that because apparently, she can't read me. So she went "I know how unhappy you are". My thought balloon: Oh yeah? Funny I just said that. Apparently, you are better in reading chat messages than reading people.
She proceeded with lecturing me about how I shouldn't be so detached from people. That I should learn how to dance like the Romans when in Rome. That wherever life would take me, I should know how to mingle and try to be a bit friendlier. At this point I wanted to burst into laughter, not exactly because she's 6 years my junior but because she doesn't know my long story.
Wonderful, it was simply wonderful. To think we agreed earlier on that we don't have to be friends. I don't know her and she doesn't know me. I wonder which part of that agreement wasn't clear to her since she went on and on telling me I'm like this, I'm like that. Even worse, teaching me TO BE THIS, AND BE THAT. *faint* And oh, get this, I even told her, TWICE, that the only 2 people I like from our circle are Person A and Person B. I NAMED THOSE TWO and she still missed the fact that she is not someone I'd take in the level she was shooting for. She should have picked up from there that nothing from our conversation would be ingrained in my memory.
See, being honest with your opinion of a person is a totaly different animal from assuming you are actually right about that person. Needless to say, I did not even try to dispel her perception of me. What the hell for?
What an interesting afternoon it's been. Never have i been so unwillingly put under the x-ray machine and misdiagnosed. OH WELL. =)
Saturday, July 31, 2010
MAMU
My mom’s story is simple. Very simple.
She came from an upright family and was raised according to strict Christian values. She studied hard, worked even harder, studied some more, married her first and only boyfriend, raised a wooly trip of seven, was always on time and never tried to hurt anyone. And when the final call came, she bowed out gracefully.
Fancy things did not impress her. Although she was always content and grateful for what she had, she practically stopped at nothing to give a little more to the ones she loved.
But like any other simple life, hers also had its share of drama and conflict. For years, she had been hobbled sporadically by bad health. I remember her undergoing operations and treatment for a variety of illnesses that were supposed to be debilitating. Also, she had been a victim of gross discrimination in the workplace, an unspeakable injustice that would have broken anybody else’s spirit. And yes, she suffered “periodic heartaches”, which came as regularly as the end the end of every semester when my grades would arrive (which is an entirely different story, however).
But in the face of all these trials and tribulations, she exhibited tremendous resilience. And every time, she found a way to come on top. Up to the end.
When the doctors said she had a brain tumor, six months before she passed away, my knees buckled. I was so shocked that for several moments, I was unable to say anything. On the other hand, she who was the direct recipient of that harrowing blow was still as positive as any proton. But then she was not really the type who got easily rattled and intimidated by adversity.
I recall when I was about 8, I asked her, trustingly and with all the naivete of a third grader, what my motto in life should be. She replied without batting an eyelash: “Success lies not in never falling, but in rising every time you fall.” I guess she lived this all her life and that she saw this new episode, scary as it was to us, as nothing more than a speed bump.
And we knew it was not for a show. Her positive demeanor did not stem from a desire to display outward strength for the rest of the family to emulate. Rather, it came from a real will to survive—a strong determination to continue life and living.
So for six months, the family was trapped in a very unusual emotional zone. Everyone tried to act normal and take everything in stride, but inside we were gearing for a war. After all, this is the first time a crisis of this magnitude had hit us. There was no time to mull and find rationale for such a fate. Simply, everything said and done were centered on mom’s well being.
Visits to the hospital, both of the scheduled and rushed varieties, appointments (and disappointments) with her doctors, scouting around for other possible medication, being scouted in return by bearers of alternative medicine, shifting hours as hospital bantay, entertaining well-wishers, basking in the overwhelming show of love and support from family and friends—all these became ordinary fare for us. We quickly got attuned to that kind of set-up an no one minded giving other things up just so Mamu’s condition improved.
For her part, mom responded with inspiring gallantry. Though the pain at times became so overpowering, she always had that toothy, reassuring grin that told us she was giving the beast a run for its money.
Despite the perfunctory assurances from her army of doctors that “there is still hope”, the gradual deterioration of her internal functions and the physical manifestation of the disease indicated that the end was approaching. And so we had to, really tightly this time, embrace the reality facing us. This was a full-blown case of brain cancer, and the statistics were not in our favor.
Hope was never lost but to be in denial would have been a lot more painful and devastating. We had to be strong for her, and for ourselves. No one was to show a sign of weakness. Not in front of this woman, from whose strength we gather our own. Not in front of this lady, in whose gentleness we so joyfully and willingly drowned. Hanging tears were only allowed to fall during silent prayers before sleep.
My tears poured by the bucket as my prayers tripled in frequency and intensity. Not only did it hurt to see mom slowly and seemingly systematically being ravaged by the illness, it was also uncool for her to leave at that moment. I didn’t know when it’s cool for any loved one to leave, but I knew it wasn’t right time for her to go away.
How it could be cool when she was singing “Indigo Girls” and “10,000 Maniacs” with me in the car? How could it be right when we were all set to launch our partnership in a fertilizer business we had decided to call Chicken Shit for the Soil? How could it be okay when the late-bloomer that I am, I was just beginning to understand her simple joys and her inner pains, and, she too, was beginning to appreciate that I truly, deeply cared? Indeed it was a bad time for her to go.
But she went away anyway. She went after she had made peace with everyone she might have offended and everyone who might have hurt her. She went after she had assured everyone she was ready to ride into the sunset and face her Creator. And in a final act of courage and love, she went only when we were ready to let her go, and after she had stage-directed her own wake and funeral.
When the moment arrived, of course there was grief, but there also was celebration. Sure there were tears, but more radiant were the smiles. Sure it was her death, but what loomed largest over everything else was her life. Clichés are clichés because they always ring so true.
It has been three years. A lot of big things have happened in the family and bigger ones are still to unfold. It would be a blast if she were still here to share and make pakialam in all these. Of course, we all have somehow snapped out of the emptiness brought about by her absence. But I really miss her.
I miss the way she’d flip when I held open the refrigerator door longer than necessary. I miss her gladly coming down for seconds when I arrive late for dinner so I wouldn’t have to eat alone. I still blow kisses at her picture before going to bed. I still look up to the night sky and acknowledge her presence somewhere beyond cosmic boundaries.
I still look at the untouched crossword puzzles in the papers and acknowledge her presence just within mortal reach. I wish our plans to engage in business still stood. I wish she had met Amanda.
I am grateful for everything she gave me and everything she didn’t let me have. I thank her that everyone of us turned out to be a little like her: a little more caring, a little more understanding, a little more tolerant, a little more kind and a whole lot stronger.
When Mamu died, she bore all the scars of that painful ordeal. It is indeed humbling to witness the vulnerability of the human body. But for us, it came not without the fortune and the honor of realizing the triumph of the human spirit. And the mother’s heart.
***
As published in Youngblood of the Philippine Daily Inquirer, May 10, 2001.
She came from an upright family and was raised according to strict Christian values. She studied hard, worked even harder, studied some more, married her first and only boyfriend, raised a wooly trip of seven, was always on time and never tried to hurt anyone. And when the final call came, she bowed out gracefully.
Fancy things did not impress her. Although she was always content and grateful for what she had, she practically stopped at nothing to give a little more to the ones she loved.
But like any other simple life, hers also had its share of drama and conflict. For years, she had been hobbled sporadically by bad health. I remember her undergoing operations and treatment for a variety of illnesses that were supposed to be debilitating. Also, she had been a victim of gross discrimination in the workplace, an unspeakable injustice that would have broken anybody else’s spirit. And yes, she suffered “periodic heartaches”, which came as regularly as the end the end of every semester when my grades would arrive (which is an entirely different story, however).
But in the face of all these trials and tribulations, she exhibited tremendous resilience. And every time, she found a way to come on top. Up to the end.
When the doctors said she had a brain tumor, six months before she passed away, my knees buckled. I was so shocked that for several moments, I was unable to say anything. On the other hand, she who was the direct recipient of that harrowing blow was still as positive as any proton. But then she was not really the type who got easily rattled and intimidated by adversity.
I recall when I was about 8, I asked her, trustingly and with all the naivete of a third grader, what my motto in life should be. She replied without batting an eyelash: “Success lies not in never falling, but in rising every time you fall.” I guess she lived this all her life and that she saw this new episode, scary as it was to us, as nothing more than a speed bump.
And we knew it was not for a show. Her positive demeanor did not stem from a desire to display outward strength for the rest of the family to emulate. Rather, it came from a real will to survive—a strong determination to continue life and living.
So for six months, the family was trapped in a very unusual emotional zone. Everyone tried to act normal and take everything in stride, but inside we were gearing for a war. After all, this is the first time a crisis of this magnitude had hit us. There was no time to mull and find rationale for such a fate. Simply, everything said and done were centered on mom’s well being.
Visits to the hospital, both of the scheduled and rushed varieties, appointments (and disappointments) with her doctors, scouting around for other possible medication, being scouted in return by bearers of alternative medicine, shifting hours as hospital bantay, entertaining well-wishers, basking in the overwhelming show of love and support from family and friends—all these became ordinary fare for us. We quickly got attuned to that kind of set-up an no one minded giving other things up just so Mamu’s condition improved.
For her part, mom responded with inspiring gallantry. Though the pain at times became so overpowering, she always had that toothy, reassuring grin that told us she was giving the beast a run for its money.
Despite the perfunctory assurances from her army of doctors that “there is still hope”, the gradual deterioration of her internal functions and the physical manifestation of the disease indicated that the end was approaching. And so we had to, really tightly this time, embrace the reality facing us. This was a full-blown case of brain cancer, and the statistics were not in our favor.
Hope was never lost but to be in denial would have been a lot more painful and devastating. We had to be strong for her, and for ourselves. No one was to show a sign of weakness. Not in front of this woman, from whose strength we gather our own. Not in front of this lady, in whose gentleness we so joyfully and willingly drowned. Hanging tears were only allowed to fall during silent prayers before sleep.
My tears poured by the bucket as my prayers tripled in frequency and intensity. Not only did it hurt to see mom slowly and seemingly systematically being ravaged by the illness, it was also uncool for her to leave at that moment. I didn’t know when it’s cool for any loved one to leave, but I knew it wasn’t right time for her to go away.
How it could be cool when she was singing “Indigo Girls” and “10,000 Maniacs” with me in the car? How could it be right when we were all set to launch our partnership in a fertilizer business we had decided to call Chicken Shit for the Soil? How could it be okay when the late-bloomer that I am, I was just beginning to understand her simple joys and her inner pains, and, she too, was beginning to appreciate that I truly, deeply cared? Indeed it was a bad time for her to go.
But she went away anyway. She went after she had made peace with everyone she might have offended and everyone who might have hurt her. She went after she had assured everyone she was ready to ride into the sunset and face her Creator. And in a final act of courage and love, she went only when we were ready to let her go, and after she had stage-directed her own wake and funeral.
When the moment arrived, of course there was grief, but there also was celebration. Sure there were tears, but more radiant were the smiles. Sure it was her death, but what loomed largest over everything else was her life. Clichés are clichés because they always ring so true.
It has been three years. A lot of big things have happened in the family and bigger ones are still to unfold. It would be a blast if she were still here to share and make pakialam in all these. Of course, we all have somehow snapped out of the emptiness brought about by her absence. But I really miss her.
I miss the way she’d flip when I held open the refrigerator door longer than necessary. I miss her gladly coming down for seconds when I arrive late for dinner so I wouldn’t have to eat alone. I still blow kisses at her picture before going to bed. I still look up to the night sky and acknowledge her presence somewhere beyond cosmic boundaries.
I still look at the untouched crossword puzzles in the papers and acknowledge her presence just within mortal reach. I wish our plans to engage in business still stood. I wish she had met Amanda.
I am grateful for everything she gave me and everything she didn’t let me have. I thank her that everyone of us turned out to be a little like her: a little more caring, a little more understanding, a little more tolerant, a little more kind and a whole lot stronger.
When Mamu died, she bore all the scars of that painful ordeal. It is indeed humbling to witness the vulnerability of the human body. But for us, it came not without the fortune and the honor of realizing the triumph of the human spirit. And the mother’s heart.
***
As published in Youngblood of the Philippine Daily Inquirer, May 10, 2001.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Our dreams need some chasing, too.
Although we wish it were, life just isn't easy. For someone born with a silver spoon in his mouth or he who has nothing to put in his mouth, unfortunately, life just aint a stroll in Luneta.
I salute those who always knew what to do with their lives. At the moment, I can only think of one person known to me, and me to her, who knew what she wanted since Day 1 and is there living the dream right now. For most of us, however, things do not work in the same manner. We are constantly embattled with turning points and decisions to make, some greater than the others.
Today is different, though. As if the hair gods granted 2 of my friends better hair days, these 2 ladies just decided to take a leap and do whatever it is that's been building up inside them. Today they commenced a full swing chase towards happiness and self fulfillment.
PICCI
I've only met Pich once. She can easily be branded as an ex-girlfriend of an acquaintance, but she is so much more than that. Since she has added me as friend on Facebook late last year, I have been on online witness to her struggles from a breakup and eventually, her being reborn.
Pich is one of the emitter of better vibes in the Facebook world that is full of hatred, angst and superficial stuff. I'm not one to cast the first stone here since I am one of those who sometimes make their contacts unwitting recepients of the steam that is let out on Facebook.
As mentioned, Pich is full of positivism. So much so that I think the light she exudes is contagious. Today, is monumental for her as she laced up and ran after her dream of affecting positive change among her circle of friends...
TIPPIE
I find it so much more challenging to write about this girl probably because not only do I read about her in social networking sites, but because I also play the role of a sounding board to her. Oh wait, she knows about my quarter life crisis too!
Given our dynamics, I should have seen this one coming...
...but I didn't.
I keep a company of a few, very very very dear friends, and we are each other's number one fans. I'm glad Tippie did the right thing today. She was always meant to shine and her views were always good for something.
I shall go to bed today knowing that a revolution has started. 2 of my friends are on their way to catching up with their dream. They may be taking baby steps for now but who cares? There is no one way to get there, right?
Cheers amigas! Cheers to those who dream. And those who have the guts to chase after them. =)
I salute those who always knew what to do with their lives. At the moment, I can only think of one person known to me, and me to her, who knew what she wanted since Day 1 and is there living the dream right now. For most of us, however, things do not work in the same manner. We are constantly embattled with turning points and decisions to make, some greater than the others.
Today is different, though. As if the hair gods granted 2 of my friends better hair days, these 2 ladies just decided to take a leap and do whatever it is that's been building up inside them. Today they commenced a full swing chase towards happiness and self fulfillment.
PICCI
I've only met Pich once. She can easily be branded as an ex-girlfriend of an acquaintance, but she is so much more than that. Since she has added me as friend on Facebook late last year, I have been on online witness to her struggles from a breakup and eventually, her being reborn.
Pich is one of the emitter of better vibes in the Facebook world that is full of hatred, angst and superficial stuff. I'm not one to cast the first stone here since I am one of those who sometimes make their contacts unwitting recepients of the steam that is let out on Facebook.
As mentioned, Pich is full of positivism. So much so that I think the light she exudes is contagious. Today, is monumental for her as she laced up and ran after her dream of affecting positive change among her circle of friends...
TIPPIE
I find it so much more challenging to write about this girl probably because not only do I read about her in social networking sites, but because I also play the role of a sounding board to her. Oh wait, she knows about my quarter life crisis too!
Given our dynamics, I should have seen this one coming...
...but I didn't.
I keep a company of a few, very very very dear friends, and we are each other's number one fans. I'm glad Tippie did the right thing today. She was always meant to shine and her views were always good for something.
I shall go to bed today knowing that a revolution has started. 2 of my friends are on their way to catching up with their dream. They may be taking baby steps for now but who cares? There is no one way to get there, right?
Cheers amigas! Cheers to those who dream. And those who have the guts to chase after them. =)
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Marrying Off a Dear Friend
This (or an excerpt off it) would have been my speech during Tala and Pau's wedding. But being the choker that I am, I of course had to beg off from taking the mic…
***
This is gonna take a while so I hope you’re not running on an empty stomach…
Everybody in this room knows almost everyone, or at least, the person next to you or that guy across the room looks familiar. Everyone in this room has played a great role in the life of either Tala or Pau, or both of them. The guest count alone is very telling of the kind of people these guys are—sensible and kuripot.
I’m kidding. I suppose what it really tells us is that, us, the select few who have the honor of being here today to send off these two to their journey to infinity (with Sri Lanka as their first stop) have got to be really special people who’ve seen them through the many seasons of their lives.
I have seen Tala go through every human emotion possible. From mania to euphoria… bring it. But never have I seen her in this state of calm courage. Looking at her now, she is a picture of a woman who knows she had it lucky that Pau is the man who will hold her hand through the good and bad… and that he will never let go of that grip.
You gotta agree good things happen to good people. Look at you guys, I’m sure I’m speaking for everyone in this room, team Ocampo and team Supangco alike, that we cannot be any happier and more at peace with the idea that you guys ended up with each other. Aside from the mind blowing decibel levels of laughter you share, you guys are just an undeniably ideal match. Hahaba kase pag nag-enumerate pa ko ng reasons. I really just wanted to point out that one thing that sets you apart. Malakas talaga kayo tumawa.
And If I may share a story…
I remember, in the weeks leading to Pau’s proposal to Tala, she was obsessing about how she’d want Pau to ask her to marry him already. Alam nyo na, OC, demanding at mababa ang EQ. And we’d try to appease her by kidding, maybe he hasn’t saved up for a ring. Tala then just rolled her eyes and said “I don’t want a ring. I don’t need a ring. I just want to be with Pau forever…” And now you got your forever, didn’t you? And what a beautiful forever it will be...
***
I love you guys. The best is yet to come for you two. Know that I will forever be your loyal friend, crazy fan and vigilant prayer warrior in your life as husband and wife..
***
This is gonna take a while so I hope you’re not running on an empty stomach…
Everybody in this room knows almost everyone, or at least, the person next to you or that guy across the room looks familiar. Everyone in this room has played a great role in the life of either Tala or Pau, or both of them. The guest count alone is very telling of the kind of people these guys are—sensible and kuripot.
I’m kidding. I suppose what it really tells us is that, us, the select few who have the honor of being here today to send off these two to their journey to infinity (with Sri Lanka as their first stop) have got to be really special people who’ve seen them through the many seasons of their lives.
I have seen Tala go through every human emotion possible. From mania to euphoria… bring it. But never have I seen her in this state of calm courage. Looking at her now, she is a picture of a woman who knows she had it lucky that Pau is the man who will hold her hand through the good and bad… and that he will never let go of that grip.
You gotta agree good things happen to good people. Look at you guys, I’m sure I’m speaking for everyone in this room, team Ocampo and team Supangco alike, that we cannot be any happier and more at peace with the idea that you guys ended up with each other. Aside from the mind blowing decibel levels of laughter you share, you guys are just an undeniably ideal match. Hahaba kase pag nag-enumerate pa ko ng reasons. I really just wanted to point out that one thing that sets you apart. Malakas talaga kayo tumawa.
And If I may share a story…
I remember, in the weeks leading to Pau’s proposal to Tala, she was obsessing about how she’d want Pau to ask her to marry him already. Alam nyo na, OC, demanding at mababa ang EQ. And we’d try to appease her by kidding, maybe he hasn’t saved up for a ring. Tala then just rolled her eyes and said “I don’t want a ring. I don’t need a ring. I just want to be with Pau forever…” And now you got your forever, didn’t you? And what a beautiful forever it will be...
***
I love you guys. The best is yet to come for you two. Know that I will forever be your loyal friend, crazy fan and vigilant prayer warrior in your life as husband and wife..
Friday, July 16, 2010
Viva La Furia Roja!
Super-mega-whatdaheck delayed post....
Daym, Spain, daym! THE WORLD CUP, Baby! I'm so in the wrong continent. I should have been a sangria-drinking, flamenco-dancing Iberian!
Iker, you are the man. Andres Iniesta, you take the runner up post. David Villa... what the hey.. I love team sports! =)
And to remember South Africa 2010 by...
I once told a friend football lost so much spunk with Zidane's retirement (yon ang rock star!) But on the whole, it was a GREAT SHOW THIS YEAR!
Daym, Spain, daym! THE WORLD CUP, Baby! I'm so in the wrong continent. I should have been a sangria-drinking, flamenco-dancing Iberian!
Iker, you are the man. Andres Iniesta, you take the runner up post. David Villa... what the hey.. I love team sports! =)
And to remember South Africa 2010 by...
I once told a friend football lost so much spunk with Zidane's retirement (yon ang rock star!) But on the whole, it was a GREAT SHOW THIS YEAR!
Sunday, July 4, 2010
i have to stop being a boy....
NOT!
There are things about sports that are just to difficult not to care and share about....
Last night's Germany-Argentina clash was really something. 4-nil, man! Although I'm a bit sorry for their loss, Deutschland just crushed Maradona's boys in pretty convincing manner. So as my own gesture of consoling them, here's in honor of 2 of the best there was/is in football :)
SPAIN on the other hand.... well... I've long ago pledged allegiance to the Iberians. If we were given the chance to choose nationalities, I'd definitely be red and yellow :))
THE David Villa may have scored the lone goal against Paraguay but Iker Casillas was my man last night. Speaking of... It's odd that I find him and tennis' Juan Carlos Ferrero having striking similarities--
And to round up yet another boyish blog entry.. lemme cheer on another member of the Spanish armada on his championship match tonight. Vamos, Rafa!
There are things about sports that are just to difficult not to care and share about....
Last night's Germany-Argentina clash was really something. 4-nil, man! Although I'm a bit sorry for their loss, Deutschland just crushed Maradona's boys in pretty convincing manner. So as my own gesture of consoling them, here's in honor of 2 of the best there was/is in football :)
SPAIN on the other hand.... well... I've long ago pledged allegiance to the Iberians. If we were given the chance to choose nationalities, I'd definitely be red and yellow :))
THE David Villa may have scored the lone goal against Paraguay but Iker Casillas was my man last night. Speaking of... It's odd that I find him and tennis' Juan Carlos Ferrero having striking similarities--
And to round up yet another boyish blog entry.. lemme cheer on another member of the Spanish armada on his championship match tonight. Vamos, Rafa!
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Plotting the Dots
"You can’t connect the dots looking forward. You can only connect the dots looking backwards. So you have to trust the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something—your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. Because believing that the dots will connect down the road will give you the confidence to follow your heart. Even if it leads you off the well worn path. And that will make all the difference."
At this point in my life, I'm just happy plotting the dots I can connect later on. =)
At this point in my life, I'm just happy plotting the dots I can connect later on. =)
Friday, July 2, 2010
(Working Title)
Since I do not know what to call my new blog yet, I am posting this here for the time being. I just want this out there already... I just don't want to sleep on this for another night again.
The wait had been far too long already. Today is the day I can say I finally did it. =)
____________________________________________________________
Miracles are a retelling in small letters of the very same story which is written across the whole world in letters too large for some of us to see.
~ C. S. Lewis
And I believe in everyday miracles…
***
The story of the man on the street has always fascinated me. As a child, I’d imagine myself having my own talk show (as every child would dream to be on TV), interviewing every Juan about anything and everything.
Tales of cosmic miracles about finding “the one” have always been a personal favorite. I am such a sucker for mush, you can say. But there is a whole lot more out there… Even the strangest stranger can host popcorn night and fill you with stories of adventure, heart brokenness, struggle, triumph…anything! There’s just so much of life to rant, scream and narrate about.
Please allow me start with my own story—
I am just another wide-eyed wanderer. I love the beach. I run. I am an orphan, the youngest of a wonderful bunch of 7, aunt to 2 of the most beautiful boys ever. I believe Rafael Nadal is my soulmate. I cry a lot but I am unbreakable. I have a nasty scar of my right leg which I got in the summer of ’96 when my cousin and I were trying to be noticed by the cutest boys on the block. I know, someday, I'm gonna fly :)
Seriously though, I don’t know what makes a good story. Is it when it is relatable to more people? Is it when it touches hearts and sends shivers down the spine? Does it have to be an ROFL-kind? I have no freaking idea, really. All I know is that more than just hearing a good story, it’s also about connecting with another person, another life. It’s also about scratching beneath the surface…
I believe that each one of us has a story to tell, and a life to share. As mundane or revolutionary as it may be, every story deserves to be told. And it deserves an audience… even if it means an audience of one.
With that, I’d like to welcome you to the chronicles of everyday people. In here you will find a smorgasbord of stories-- allegories, anecdotes, tragedies, and whatnot. But most of all you will find here your story.
They say that the oldest story is written in the stars. I say yours is the best story that might not have ever been told. Yet.
The wait had been far too long already. Today is the day I can say I finally did it. =)
____________________________________________________________
Miracles are a retelling in small letters of the very same story which is written across the whole world in letters too large for some of us to see.
~ C. S. Lewis
And I believe in everyday miracles…
***
The story of the man on the street has always fascinated me. As a child, I’d imagine myself having my own talk show (as every child would dream to be on TV), interviewing every Juan about anything and everything.
Tales of cosmic miracles about finding “the one” have always been a personal favorite. I am such a sucker for mush, you can say. But there is a whole lot more out there… Even the strangest stranger can host popcorn night and fill you with stories of adventure, heart brokenness, struggle, triumph…anything! There’s just so much of life to rant, scream and narrate about.
Please allow me start with my own story—
I am just another wide-eyed wanderer. I love the beach. I run. I am an orphan, the youngest of a wonderful bunch of 7, aunt to 2 of the most beautiful boys ever. I believe Rafael Nadal is my soulmate. I cry a lot but I am unbreakable. I have a nasty scar of my right leg which I got in the summer of ’96 when my cousin and I were trying to be noticed by the cutest boys on the block. I know, someday, I'm gonna fly :)
Seriously though, I don’t know what makes a good story. Is it when it is relatable to more people? Is it when it touches hearts and sends shivers down the spine? Does it have to be an ROFL-kind? I have no freaking idea, really. All I know is that more than just hearing a good story, it’s also about connecting with another person, another life. It’s also about scratching beneath the surface…
I believe that each one of us has a story to tell, and a life to share. As mundane or revolutionary as it may be, every story deserves to be told. And it deserves an audience… even if it means an audience of one.
With that, I’d like to welcome you to the chronicles of everyday people. In here you will find a smorgasbord of stories-- allegories, anecdotes, tragedies, and whatnot. But most of all you will find here your story.
They say that the oldest story is written in the stars. I say yours is the best story that might not have ever been told. Yet.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
As Straightforward as it Gets
I do not let a lot of people in my life.
I like keeping the upper hand on things.
I go by the path of least resistance.
I do not care about a lot of things.
I do not seek acceptance nor seek to please others.
I am not afraid to commit mistakes. (Really good at it!)
I love my family dearly, more than anything else in this world.
And sooner than anyone realizes it, I will learn how to fly.
I like keeping the upper hand on things.
I go by the path of least resistance.
I do not care about a lot of things.
I do not seek acceptance nor seek to please others.
I am not afraid to commit mistakes. (Really good at it!)
I love my family dearly, more than anything else in this world.
And sooner than anyone realizes it, I will learn how to fly.
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