God's Plans

I've been journeying with God on-and-off for the past months. Here's how the cycle goes. After days or weeks of not fighting for my time with Him, I would be drawn through a Christian song or a really good Christian book. Then I'd be sentimental, then cry, and feel guilty yet equally loved and make a pledge to be a better Christian. To get to know Him more. That I wouldn't skip long days without praying or having my devotion. After sometime, the motivation would once again deteriorate. Oh, I'm too busy I have to finish this. Oh, this seems so exciting I can always get back to my devotion. Oh, God will understand.

I'm writing this down because today was another high point in that cycle and I just want to crush the cycle. I want every day to be a fighting day for time with God. Because in my happy place, I started making plans for myself. I started making plans to achieve by myself. I totally forgot about God's plans and now that I want to follow Him, I am completely, miserably lost.

I have to restore my walk with God. I have to start somewhere, I have to start there. I have to admit it, and I don't want to end this on some glorious note that it will be alright soon and that I will be redeemed. (Although most likely, this will be the case for all God's children.) I just want to say it now. My pride is wounded. I am crippled and I keep trying to get up. I cannot accept the fact that I am crippled and I am not doing well. Because people will judge me. And though it shouldn't, it matters so much to me. I am ashamed that I acted like the most intellectual of all intellectuals. It was a slap on my face to know that I am not. And yet, I am nursing the pain.

I just want it all to be okay. I just want to get back on the track that I used to follow so well. To experience the good and the bad, and not to get too focused that I only get the good.

Dear God, I truly do not know where I am going. I badly want to. But I know my heart is not ready. So I want You to make it ready. Grant me humility, allow me to accept that things cannot always be perfect, that things cannot be planned, and the best plans are those that are Yours, revealed in Your proper timing. Teach me to be calm, but strong enough to fight. To not be satisfied with a life that is comfortable and yet pointless. Please Lord, I cannot live without direction. I cannot live without knowing. Please help me.

Layers

Some people are made of layers and layers. It’s like you think you know them but you honestly don’t. The thing is, they’re not unpredictable. It’s just that it takes much wisdom and sensitivity to bring out the deepest part of their being.

I guess the sad part is that the layers are very much the offspring of years of losing trust and not having it rebuilt, of having something stolen and no longer returned. I never wanted layers, but in the process of getting my second and nth chances I had inevitably put one guard over another, one damage getting resolved after another.

But-—what I love most about being a person of layers is that I surprise people. It always seems like they have so much to learn about me even after years of knowing me. And I guess that’s the beauty of it, that no matter how complicated it may seem, there’s something new and wonderful to take in.

That is why I don’t have any regrets for how I turned out-—excited when I am interested and obsessed when I am passionate. Thirsty for knowledge, skeptical when bored, silent when reeling, squealing when I’m over-the-top happy—these are all, I am proud to say, me. Though a number of the things I’ve just enumerated tend to change depending on the situation, I frankly don’t feel bothered that my layers also surprise me. One minute I’m too perky, the next I’m a hundred percent focused. That is perfectly fine because it proves I’m human.

Lastly, I should never have questioned if I did good and if those good things that I did were well enough. I also don’t have any apologies for how I reacted and the efforts I struggled to exert just to allow people to see through my layers. If they don’t get it, if it had become too complicated to have at least an inkling of how I was feeling, then I am convinced of one thing and one thing only: it is not my loss.

Sunlight

Too much has gone by. One dream after another thrown on the pedestal for a hope that is fueled by extremely strong pursuits. Time passes fast and no matter how obvious this realization is, dreams never stop recurring as a security measure for the dream that will bring better dreams.

The cycle doesn't stop; the continuous prodding, the continuous hoping, checking, believing. All relatively blurry attempts to sail against all odds. Can you see it flooding in? Can you see how majestic it was, to take that step, to anchor a weary soul into a life-changing definition of bravery? For one to give it all, there is no judgement in that.

Stop being nervous about fate. Reward courage. Take pride in what had been worth fighting for even if it no longer resonates the same battle cry. Heal, then step outside. Celebrate the unfamiliar, celebrate its concealing blaze, and know that even when its fiery glare subsides, it goes back to make you see better.

I Can't Believe I Have Time to Write Again

In busy days and days that never seemed to end, I learned to bask in silence. At times, I would take good, brief walks, or laugh my entire being out. Pacifying myself had suddenly become part of my routine. Moreso, I learned how to manage doing one task at a time because I knew there were so many "nexts" to come and I would seriously lose it if I tried doing everything simultaneously. So when the days started slowing down, I found myself itching upon being confronted with a thousand uncertainties.

Be brave, they say. Grow up. Accept new opportunities. Try new hobbies. Do what you love. Never stop discovering new things. These days, these are the mantras I hear unceasingly. And I listened. I tried to be independent, fixating on the less than basic activities I could do in the kitchen. I brought myself to work, to the mall, and back home. I bought groceries and stuffed myself with fatty food. Every time, every time, I conquered a task by myself, I'd be proud, because, I repeat, I did it all by myself. Nevertheless, I do wonder sometimes. Isn't it a little too late for that, now that I have lived for almost a quarter of a century? Why do I feel this only now? Why was I not taught to survive and be, quite frankly, an adult?

Then time was of another matter, although as equally significant. I wanted to dabble in the arts. I have always enjoyed painting words, painting on blank canvasses, pushing keys and hearing wonderful, wonderful music. More than it being cathartic, I deemed myself to be a little bit better in this area compared to others, no offense. But when all my time was lost, why could I not push harder to invest on this? And then somehow, I ended up being a jack-of-all-trades and master of none. The pain.

It's hard to uproot me. When I find my niche, I dig really deep and claw my way down. I do not know if this brought me much good or much bad, but if I really, really, really trust someone else, I allow myself to be swayed. I have a strong history of harsh words and betrayal and somewhere along the way, I just wanted it to stop completely. So I put my guards up. How do I know if I'm trusting the right people? How do I protect myself from the awkwardness and intimidation while all the while enjoying new discoveries and being thrown away in a whirlwind? How do I become the person everybody is comfortable with in my endeavor to keep myself intact?

I have so many questions, most of which I can obviously see are contradicting or already provide direct answers. I just wanted to write. I have to say, my feelings are still twitching and sentimentally blurry, but seeing the words get strung together just like old times feels orgasmically good.

Unbelievers

I’m not excited, but should I be?
Is this the fate that half of the world has planned for me?

I know I love you
And you love the sea
But what holy water contains a little drop, little drop for me?

-Vampire Weekend

Kaguluhan

Ginawa kong iwasan ka. Ginawa kong isipin na tapos na, hindi na ako aasa pa, at kailan man ay hindi tayo pwede. At habang lahat ng senyales ay sumasang-ayon na wala naman talagang posibilidad na maging tayo, bakit hindi ko kayang isuko? Bakit sa tuwing sigurado na ako sa mga desisyon ko ay lagi na lamang may nangyayari upang magustuhan kita?

Tunay ngang magulo ang mundong ginagalawan natin. Pero sana, sana, matutunan ko nang tanggapin na hindi tayo para sa isa't isa, na hindi mo naisipang subukang pasayahin ako, na ako'y di hamak na isang maliit na parte lamang ng mundo mo, nang matahimik na ang aking puso. Parang awa mo na, patahimikin mo na ang aking puso.

Message in a Bottle

I write this letter hoping that even if it is meant as a cry for help towards any anonymous person, it is you who would somehow get a hold of this.

I am tired, and have often been in the same situation for many times: on the verge of breakdown. Tonight, I'll try to write it down in lieu of sulking by myself in a corner, trying to breathe in and breathe out just for all the anxiety to go away. I am emotionally conflicted, mentally exhausted, and physically yearning to just lie in bed and watch the stars.

I'm still not sure if my dreams are still as big as before, or if I'm already contented, having reached the happiest season of my life. Gaining so many friends worth keeping (that I actually don't have room for new ones) and discovering newfound loves have drastically changed my life. I don't know if this is some sort of adrenaline rush to my, as they always say, sheltered way of living, but I'm thrilled that in one way or another, it has partially changed.

I also met you. You who were someone I used to just shrug off, you whom I thought were better off in your lucky-go-happy world. We've never had a real, honest and good conversation. All I had gotten in the last few weeks were your crazy and desperate jokes to wing everything that had to be finished and completed. I don't know why it hit me tremendously, I just know that in between the jokes were sincere moments of affirmation that I failed to receive from anybody.

Now I realize, we've never had that conversation because I'm too scared to hear the words that will ruin the investments I've made with another special person. Likewise, I'm too scared to find out that there was just really nothing surfacing between the exchanges we've had. So today, I'm closing that door because you never gave me any reason to take your flattery seriously. It was just flattery, plain and simple. And plainly, simply, and ironically, it did break my heart. So today, I promise myself that I will protect the person who loved me most in spite of this predicament because he deserves to be fought for.

So tell me now, can you please shut up and stop uplifting my vulnerable spirit? I can't have this game of chasing and hoping with you... and this is the only way you can rescue me.

Playgrounds, Night Time, and Carnivals

This week, I felt special once again. This week, I was affirmed. This week, I relived and loved the idea of the chase.

If only it were simple, if only feelings could be controlled, and if only I could protect people from getting hurt.

And if only you could stop being your funny and helpful self, if only I met you when no strings had been attached... then so many things could change.

Groceries

I've been walking around groceries for the last two days, well... walking and shopping. It seems like grocery-buying is my new therapeutic habit during these times.

I'm enjoying teaching myself how the aisles are organized, and I learned that the number one thing I love about groceries is the organization that just envelopes the entire place. I am a fan of organization, and I would happily sacrifice my life for organization to conquer the human race.

I started visiting groceries when I had to buy materials for my class. Lately, I've been visiting because I keep wanting to refill my goodies and comfort food and drinks at work, re-supplying myself with a box of Swiss Miss Chocolate Truffle, Milo, Lipton Milk Tea, powdered milk tea from a Malaysian brand, Nestea Red Tea Raspberry Iced Tea, Meiji chocolates, pancit canton, cup noodles, Butterfinger, and the like, which you, by now, most probably have a good idea of.

Because I had to buy a number of things and I got exhausted from lugging my handbag around, I taught myself to use a cart. And when I rolled that grocery cart along the aisles, it was magic. I started thinking of how it would be like if I had a family, and a baby, and I could easily choose which baby stuff to buy because I'm becoming a pro at baby brands and what to choose for a baby. I started thinking of how I could do this everyday and buy only the good stuff for my family. The best comfort food. And I imagined my kids so happy because I didn't deprive them of junk food or A&W cream sodas every now and then. And I would eat with them because life is too short to stay healthy. We'd drink the salted-caramel-flavored-hot-chocolate from Starbucks on rainy days, using our colorful and awesome mugs and tumblers and we'd cuddle on mats and pillows while watching Disney movies. Or do art together, like go painting and stuff.

I didn't want to admit this, but going to groceries pushed me to want to be a mom soon. But I still have years to go, because if I'm going to need funds for my groceries and the house I'm going to put my groceries in, I have to survive at this job which I also love.

Finally

Almost a week ago, I screamed.

I screamed it all out. And I thought that I would regret it, but even if it has sunk in, I don't.

Because when all the screaming was going on, I learned a cold, hard truth: some people will never change, and just continue being the hypocrites that they are.

And if only I could storm out I would. But with how most things go, we're stuck with who we don't want to be with.

Nonetheless, it felt good to release all those years' worth of bottled up pain in their faces. I'm still waiting until I regret it.