The Second Encounter

And here you are again.


I thought we had an agreement, a civil one.


When was the last time? Four years? It has been really a while. I never thought you'd show up again.


I thought I had shut you out of my life for good. That was the best thing I could ever have done.


But why the sudden appearance or I just lacked insight yet again?


It is not as if I have missed you, as if I had somehow wondered how it would be like to have you again.


It was you who helped me and somehow thrashed me at the same time. Ah, how inconsistent.


Perhaps I am being too harsh. You did reinforce a certain type of fulfillment for me, a unique satisfaction.


Remember how I would always tell myself and tell you too how with you around everything just seems to be in control?


But you and me we had to stop for the reason that it was more of a destructive relationship than a beneficial one.


The last time I bid adieu. How about this time?








Purging episodes.

Unthirsty

I have forgotten how to write, how to narrate stories of people, how to tell my stories.

Questions have halted yet answers have not been provided. Here I am at a standstill.

No, do not think I have been quite depressed, on the contrary, this is the point in my life where everything is just perfect. Too perfect.

But you see we have an innate thirst for what boggles and perplexes us, what makes us twitch our minds. It is of this thirst that makes us seek more for meanings lying somewhere bordering the sanity and insanity.

Ah yes, perhaps this current feeling of happiness is to be blamed that is causing all of these. The previous posts of soliloquy and somber, morose and moronic, impulsivity dabbed with regret, of concordant and discord, euphoria in its purest form, all these were written with sadness looming in my thoughts.

Oh how I could just shake this off and try to write again!

How awful it is for man to feel happy yet can not acclimatize to the feeling but when a truly worse encounter passes that is when you can think better, of difference, in thoughts of assortment. How truly ironic it is that you need to feel sad in order to seek happiness and happiness in turn can be monotonous...

So for now I shall be a hermit. Only time will tell when I have recollected my thoughts again.

Trounced

Trials exist to make you either of the two - a bitter or better person.

Derailed

Fate is the product of your final decisions.

Of Faith and Fear

I was worried. It was already 6:45 in the morning and I am going to be late for work for the third time this week. 


And we only had four days of work because of Memorial Day.


I checked the digital clock on my phone.


"I can still make it." I muttered to myself.


I turned around, hurried my steps, and brisk walked towards our house.


I buzzed twice before our gate was opened. I was already sweating like a pig. Walking my way across the garage, across the living room, and finally across the dining room, there atop the refrigerator was the one thing I left - a Lady of Manaoag bracelet.


Faith and I had always been more of acquaintances than opposed to having a strong tie. True I went to a Catholic school in my primary years but even with all the catechism, religion, and Catholic celebrations provided by the school, it did not really catch up to me.


First Friday masses would always be an hour for me and my classmates to eat Gobstoppers, Runts, or Nerds in the church and prayer time with the rosary would mean more yawns than the mysteries.


Although it has not been like these formerly. I too had a time of a strong connection, a bond to faith and religion. Where every Sunday means hearing a mass and drop by every time I go to the gym or just outside our subdivision for a quick stroll in a mall or anywhere nearby. But that has long since diminished from my routine.


Now I don't even go to mass but I do drop by the church only for a 5-minute prayer. To give thanks.


I have long questioned my faith and how I was not really inclined to it. Where moments of sadness and near hopelessness means just crying at night and comforting myself without the question of 'Where are you when I need you the most?'


And yet I still do believe in him although in a very unconventional way. It is inexplicable. No images, no lights emanating, no resurrections.


As I walked out of our house I strapped it onto my left wrist. I circled my right point finger along the contour of the bracelet and wrist, stretched it a little and snapped back onto my wrist. I gave out a weak smile.


I still believe. That is just it.


Finally catching my breath, I got in the jeepney where people were waiting for it to accelerate.

Taking Action

You can always make something happen.


The question is when?


"I guess in the end we belong to what we love." - Mary Bertison, Elizabeth Kostova's The Swan Thieves