nothing but letters

There is joy in reading. There is this uncontrollable force that sticks you into a book, a magazine or even a piece of article. As for me, the more personal the article is, the more worthy it is to be given attention to.

Oh no! I'm not trying to pry or be nosy about anything, it's just that I admire spontaneity and candidness in a content. Maybe that's the reason why I'm hooked up with this blogging stuff. But even then, I had this habit of just reading anything and later on sharing it. It's like information dissemination right? A true job for a P.I.O.

A good friend waited for me at the school's lobby, I asked her why she's meeting me there and not at my classroom, I then realized that she's bringing a very beautiful bouquet of white with pink edge petals on it. It was so nice. I saw how overwhelmed she was. Well, that worked Mr. T!

Anyway, I was asked, if you were to be given a gift, not really that fancy, between roses and teddy bear what would you like to have? Teddy Bear. If it was from a future boyfriend? Do you like chocolates? And I was like, "Hey wait, are you an agent of someone?". She just laughed and said, "Dream on!" I was insulted (it hurts). But again I answered her, Oh I'd love nothing but... Love letters!

I find it very sweet. I mean, someone doing an effort writing down his feelings for someone like me. It's very traditional. It's epic. And that's what I love about these letters, time passes by and you still have it. And perhaps, it maybe too traditional but I'm a great fan of the traditionalist.

I have with me my treasure box A.K.A shoe box I had when I was 11. It had in it my most prized possessions: age-old pictures, ink-free pens, an old sash, cute items and yes, letters! Sentimentalist that I am, even the littlest piece of paper with a thrash-like appearance which wrote "Hi" was kept in there. For one good reason, it was from my crush way back.

And then of course the letters. Those of which would be from my constant writing partner, Yappy. As I read the letters, I just couldn't help but smile. Mostly, what's in there were dreams. The vision we had for our future, the flashback of life in years' time. And reading it after more than a decade, the feeling is still there. The zest is readable. And more importantly, I realized that we've lived the dream we had when we were typical kiddos.

The letters were vivid reminders of the future we want to achieve. When I get sad and confused, it's like a therapy. It's like going back to where you really started. It's like a guide, something you look into when you feel that life has coming into a blur. It renews. It revives.

Recently, I have come across love letters from the past. It's not as if it was addressed to me (although I really do hope that) but these letters came from World War II. Isn't it fantastic? I'm sure reading it is like a time machine that transports you to an era so so ages ago. I wish to read one given the chance but most of these letters are in French.

Anyway, I wish to receive one of these later on. I don't have standards on reading one. I am inspired by the movie Letters to Juliet. I hope I get to be one of the secretaries of Juliet and find my own Charlie too. Oh well!

But reading law books is a lot different. I must say, it's much more effective than a sleeping pill. 100 folds more effective. Kidding aside, learning comes from different sources but inspiration comes from different sources in one interpretation.

Well, why the long talk when all I wanted to say is that: Since I love reading, "I am calling somebody to please write me a love letter! Make it fast, Thanks!" :p

Outgrowing emotional attachment

"We've been born together. We've experienced the pain and the laughter. We've always been best of friends. It's you who knows me best."- an old doctor told his privates this same line

I couldn't help but laugh while being told this. The wife told us about how she found her husband doctor talking with his privates on the bed one cold morning. My gosh! Was it due to old age? Or was it... I mean, Nah! It sounds really funny but these instances do happen. Forgive me for rather being restrictive about this, blame it to the fact that I am single! Period.

Sometimes, no matter how we try to keep things burning, it's just not happening. Things come to a point of real change. The things you admire most before, soon you'll grow tired of it. I hope this limits to THINGS and not to PERSONS.

But maybe, it does. I have this cousin whom I really am fond of when I was younger. In fact, he was the little brother that I never really had. He was the extension of my boy toys. I mean, the extension of the recipients of my boy toys. From my pellet guns to fantastic porsche matchbox collection, I have made a will and testament that it's gonna be his the moment I join the worms.

He was my pet. Surely, he got perks I don't share with my other cousins. You can say, he is indeed lucky. But some things just change. Don't get me wrong it's just that, there have been a lot of things gone wrong.

This is not to say that my love was conditional. Sometimes, no matter how we want to keep things the way it used to be, it isn't just revived. Although, the memories we had were more than enough to last me a lifetime really.

I had my first skateboard when I was, I think 11 or 12. It has a spiderman image on it and it was really cool. I called their house and invited him for a spin. I realized he was just too little to ride in it. I told him to wait and stay put as I grab something from the warehouse and later,There he was! Riding my skateboard with a huge helmet on! Sure thing, I had to endure the dust and dirt searching for it.

Then, there was also this instance when V and I came playing by the yard and we decided to climb the guava tree. He came. He was looking up above for me and I saw how he wanted to climb so I told V that I'm gonna come down to get him. V disagreed since he was too small and it was very dangerous for him to join us in our improvised mini tree house. But I insisted. Later to be disturbed by the sermon given to me by my dear mother. I had to endure the belt and the walis ting-ting later on for putting him in danger.

And who would forget, I have snapped him on the econo bed on a ship bringing us to Cebu when I was Senior High. Literally. As I was about to sleep to a different bunk bed beside him, I thought that as the big waves might come humping on the ship, my poor 7 yr old cousin be swept away from the bed and be eaten alive by the waves, the thought scared me. So what I did was unpack my bag, got my extra blanket and tied it on both ends of his bed. My grandma later came to check up on us and was amazed at how I really took the idea of securing my kid cousin.

Funny but out of so many things I did for him, it's always me getting the black and the bruise. But that's what I meant with care. Having to sacrifice for someone dear.

So what went wrong? Well, I cannot give a name to. I think that the bonding we had when we were younger was different as it was on a regular basis. When I reached college, I had a whole new perspective. I was creating an image for myself. I was torn between being responsible and being the playful former-kiddo that I am. I wanted to set an example.

And being the idealistic that I am, I wanted to show them what it's like to be accountable and mindful of my actions. And by being concerned about this, I lose the charisma I once have with him and the rest. Now, they're taking me as a serious, strict, high and mighty older cousin.

It's not as if I am that bothered. But truly, They should know I am different. I seem to be serious because I do not want that m serious advices be taken as jokes. I want to instill in them and him in particular, that it is important to be focused. It is important to know your priorities.

Apparently, My only wish for him is to see him grow as a better person. It isn't too late to bring back the old times. I'm not that old. I can still do skateboarding. I can still climb a guava tree and of course, I can still travel to Cebu (but this time, on an airplane!)

It's never too late especially that there is a concrete foundation of love and care. Time have changed but It can never change the fact, that I am an older sister.

Rants and Rave of a Wannabe

Greatest Ambition: Flight Attendant

Present Occupation: Constant Wannabe

Darn!

While it is common knowledge that I really want to be a Flight Attendant, I chose not to. Okay, I submitted a resume for PAL sometime after college, got a call and scheduled for an interview, now what? never attended. It may sound as a lame excuse but I wasn't able to secure permission from my boss that time. Or should I say that the permission I asked was a bit too weak for the determination i had.

I remembered, I got a call at home and I was told to go to a hotel for an interview at 2pm. I came to work in a rather fashionable way (of course, quite different from my ordinary getup). I had my hair fixed and my shoes done. I was hesitant to approach my boss since I was on probation (below 6 months from the company I am currently in). It took me seconds to finally blurt out what I wanna say and Boom! My boss then just gave me a questionable look, from her face, I know it meant a big NO!


Anyway, I can say that the experience discouraged me. I have this habit of being a weakling when it comes to getting things done my way. What seems to be the problem is the persistence, which I obviously fell short of.

Months became years, I am still here. I am still where I thought I wouldn't stand to last. I am still in the same road with mixed perceptions. I am like a balloon held by a child, to where the child would exactly go, I do not know. I just blend in. The wind might take me someday. Or perhaps, my helium, hydrogen or nitrous oxide would be diminished and soon, fall. What would be left is that elastic bag, empty and outstretched. How sad could it possibly be?

Tell you what, of course there has been a lot of opportunities that came my way. In fact, a couple of interviews with cebpac which I seem to ignore came. I appreciate how supportive my friends are, one called me up one day to inform me that the cebpac team is at Davao for the hiring process. Others seem to remind me that the process would just be a 3-day affair. Really, It makes me feel warm. At least, I have them at my back.

Trips came, everytime I ride on in a plane, I couldn't resist the thought of being just like one of those girls in a rather semi-formal attire. No offense meant but I preferred the old uniforms PAL had when I was a bit younger.

I remembered, those girls would wear very presentable skirt and blouse with a suit on and of course, a scarf. To a little girl's eyes, it's like seeing yourself perhaps 20 years after. Then who would not look their direction, when all of them march the airport with strollers, walking regally and smiling as if they're on TV? Surely, it makes young girls like me dream of a future like that. And then I had the chance to be just like them, but what did I do? Ignore, Run and hide? (It's not as if this is a matter of avoiding unwanted suitors right?)

At present, I admit I seem to be lost. I seem to be misled by my emotions. I seem to be clouded with confusions. What do I wanna be? Where do I wanna go? Stay or Leave?

Perhaps, these are questions that I cannot really fathom. For now.

All I know is that, I hold the key to my destiny. I man the ship I use to my own journey. It is up to me whether I make it or just remain a constant wannabe.

Is a many splendid thing

This might be a confession. Beware!

How do I see my self in two years' time? Well- traveled!
Ask me this personally and the same answer applies. Perhaps by that time, I've explored bits and pieces of Philly and traveled vast across Asia.

How about in five years' time? Jet setter!
Had my Euro trip, visit a city inside a city, kissed the pope's hand, visited remnants of old footprints, discovered wonders of basilicas and unfold history of ancient times.

How about in seven years' time? Expert trekker!
Climbed Andes, Hiked Kilimanjaro, Summit of Himalayas, or even reached peak of Everest.

Imagination much? Who knows! There is nothing impossible for a vagabond. Born and out in this world, taken as a playground for explorations and discoveries. There is no better thinking than this.

But wait, Why do I always associate travel with my future? Sometimes, I wonder if I'd be able to pull myself out of my to-be-where list. You see, I wonder why in how-many-years'-time, I've never mentioned about who-I-wanna-be-with.

I would constantly refuse if I would be taken as a man hater. I am not. I would earnestly disagree if I would be taken as a "chooser face". I am so not that. And ultimately, I would slap someone who takes me as a lesbo. Unless you admit you are a gay yourself.

It would be inappropriate to ask thy self what seems to be the problem. It would be tantamount to incapability. Nevertheless, there would be a point in your life that you begin to wonder, how exactly weird it is to be single and feeling singled out. There would really be a time when your friends seem to doubt you or your manner of keeping relationships. Hell, if I would know.

A friend commented, you ain't a bad looker, you ain't having a bad breath, you ain't having an attitude, how come you stay single? I would just laugh it off and tell her, how come good looking guys fall below numbers? how come fragrant guys become endangered? And of course, how come good guys seem to be extinct? Clearly, this is a matter of Economics. A matter of the demand and supply. Ceteris Paribus.

But absolutely, it is a matter of Chemistry, the reaction between two heavenly bodies, either they repel or attract each other. At twenty three my bigger question is, how come I haven't fallen in love with someone? There are boys here and there. Believe it or not, yes there are. Some passive and some active to try and catch my attention but how come I can't seem to feel the friction? the electricity? the spark? I feel that I am on the lookout for the kind of guys I wish to bring home to my dad and say, "Dad, you know, he's much like you, firm but gentle".



While it is true that Daddies serve as benchmarks for their daughters, only few daughters are lucky enough to find those qualities their fathers have on their men. And maybe, I feel that I am in a need to be in that certain group of daughters. I always believed that somewhere along the way, there is that guy who believes the way I do in reference to his mom. I believe that we are meant to meet and maybe get to know each other more.

The pressure is as high as ever. The fear is somewhat building up. The stress of thinking how time flies and anxiousness of loneliness accumulates. Childhood friends meet the partner of their lives. Classmates close with the one they adore. Friends in the process of woes. Family member tied the knot. One by one, even birds and flower horns together in the symphony of an ancient music. Everyone but me.

If I just have the power to change the hearts, guide the minds and bring together people, I would. If I just have the power to dictate my heart, long ago, I am committed. But I don't. I choose to stick in what I believed in, the lessons I've learned and the beliefs handed down on me as my guidepost. I choose to be single. I choose to be independent and free- spirited.

My bigger challenge is to stay contented and patient. I have to. I need to. If I want to build a good foundation for a special relationship, I should stick to what my heart truly feels. I dare not to be affected by the surrounding circumstances. I dare not to hurry for I know the best is about to come.

But even so, I admit I get to feel insecure and lost. I get to feel puzzled and disappointed. But what can a girl like me do? To live in figment of my imagination or to live in the reality that I am now in?

There is hope. I choose to be hopeful. In this world of open possibilities, it is not impossible for me to be caught in a tangled ancient rhythm of LOVE. Sooner or Later. =)

Criminal Mind

I choose not to think.

Thinking is a very complicated process. It provokes passion and fantasy, bliss and wonder, thrill and suspense and of course, picturesque images of almost anything. But for me, thinking has a different meaning. It takes millions of scope under its wing.

So what do I have against thinking? To say the least, in the normal setting, I have nothing against it. It proves my humanity. It is a concrete proof of my existence. But under the context of imagination, my answer quite differs. It builds and rebuilds me.

Let's categorize what I ought to say.

Thinking for the purpose of checking balance between reality and the ideal is the normal setting of how thinking works. This is the type of thinking when sometimes you wish to continue and along the process makes you want to stop. When you think of reality, it either inspires you or breaks you. Either way, It serves as a test to determine where you are at that certain point of time.

Thinking for the purpose of fantasy is another story. It is a delightful process of getting the things you want and doing the acts you wish to do. It brings you to a cloud beyond the stars, high above the sky. Or higher. It is blissful thinking. That's when I say thinking flies.

Thinking for the purpose of dreaming is overwhelming. It brings new to a whole new dimension of things. It gives life. It makes you as a person. It encourages youth and brings about deeper joy. Oh how good it is to think of the future, the chances and the experiences you wish to try. Thinking becomes an inspiration.

Thinking for the purpose of the academe is a very brilliant process. Not only that it sharpens the mind but it grants the power of the brain to rule over every other cell. However, being in XXX school, thinking is way too overrated. Memory is a gift. Memory is the lifeblood of the XXX academic life. Sometimes, If I think too much, I end up forgetting everything I have read and memorized. This is when I can say that thinking sucks.

I wonder how it completely affects me in my every move. I guess mind over matter should not be my piece when this certain mood comes. This is when a professor, hungry for answers ( he should not be since we all know he knows the answer of his questions) asks away every one of us. If it be the case, It would be very fine to raise a hand, state the answer and off to chair. However, his manner of questioning is way too threatening. I've said this to my classmates and I'm emphasizing it now, If I have a HEART AILMENT, perhaps I'd die from loss of breath every time he glances at his class list and picks a number of whoever he wish to grill.

Yeah right, It compels me to read. That is a good point why intend to study. But I never envisioned myself being admitted to a hospital for nervous breakdown or uncontrollable shaking due to fear of oral recitation. That is way too far.

Funny but sometimes I wish not to think about anything. I would try so hard to leave my mind blank for fear of materializing what my mind had just created. These are frightening thoughts. But how can I go about abandoning such thinking when I can't seem to control the power of my imagination? Good if it falls under blissful or inspirational thinking or perhaps something naughty and nice. It might excite me. MIGHT. But what if the mind becomes hampered by ill motives? What if it is stained with cruelty and evilness?

I remembered my very close colleague. On how vocal I am about what I am thinking about, she's my exact opposite. She has this habit of not telling me anything she's fuming mad about and when by my constant interrogations, she'd say she had killed the person whom she was madly mad about. I would end up accusing her of having an extremely criminal mind. She might be good as an effective villain with tremendous torture ideas.

Anyway, my point is that, sometimes I wish not to think about anything I am concerned about because it eats me whole. I can never perform my tasks perfectly since my mind is clouded with so many thoughts. Sometimes, I wish to just let the chances pass. I wish not to think of anything at all. Or my remedy would be to dream. It would transport me to a much more worth-thinking horizons. I wish not to think for it affects my emotions.

Oftentimes, I would wonder if thinking a lot is a good thing. But more or less, asking from my friends' points of view, they advised me to think of the present and not to dwell much on the future. Guess they are right, oftentimes I lose focus because I think advanced. I get paranoid and soon, forgets what really matters at the moment.

Therefore, I think that thinking too much is a bad thinking for a serious and antagonistic thinker like me. I choose not to think if thinking would do me a mess.


(P.S. Thinking is way too complicated, think of this as an unthinkable thinking tool to provoke thoughts. Gets? No? Me too! =p)