Ambivalence

Ambivalence is the alternate feeling of love and hate, of bliss and dolefulness, of longing and loathing. And this is something I feel about YOU, so true that you made me someone capable of loving and being loved in return, contrary to my own personality. For over a year, I take a good grip on the prized relationship that we have or so we call it. I’ve laid eyes on no one but you. You were a green-eyed creature but I do not deny that I’m not the jealous type of girl either. However, yours is irrational. It springs out of nowhere even without a subtle cause. You were devoured by your so-called cloud of jealousy. It’s not that I don’t take pleasure from the love that you let me feel. Yes, I enjoyed it. At times, it thrills me a lot. I find myself ecstatic being loved by you or whatever is your real intention. The chase makes me feel excited. I was kind of grateful for the efforts you have doled out in trying to foster an ideal relationship, for trying to be the PERFECT GUY that YOU really are not and will never ever be. Kudos for that! That is truly appreciated, whatever your real intents are. Thank you for making me feel that I, too, was vulnerable, that I have feelings and not just like an inanimate object devoid of all sorts of emotions. I believe it’s a WRONG LOVE that we have. It is all so wrong, wrong love and wrong place. There’s just too much of a false pretense. A relationship that’s something like this is not worth the commitment. In the first place, I don’t even know what I’m committing myself in to. Our relationship is a DECEIT and I don’t even know when this will be true. Everything is a BIG LIE. Lying is a game you love to play and I was rueful on that ‘cuz I took the bait. Nevertheless, I did have some second thoughts on that and instead take everything the constructive way around. You deceived me once and I cannot allow myself to be deluded over and over again. I’m the kind of girl whose trust cannot be easily gained and once you blew that trust, it’s something you cannot win over. Well, I just hope that you’re not faking all those so-called love for me because mine is genuine all through that. But for now, I’m all fed up and I’d rather learn to love and pamper myself first before I’ll be capable of giving love to others because it’s something that I don’t yet have at this very moment. For now, I am delighted with the way things are. I am perfectly happy with my life and still looking way up ahead that journey. 

Date A Girl Who Reads. Or Better Yet, Date a Girl Who Writes. :)

I happened to be reading a friend's notes and stumbled in to something which really caught my attention. This is for all the girls out there, just sulking in one corner and waiting to be appreciated. Cheers! 

“Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag.She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilightseries.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes.”

by Rosemary Urquico

Hanging by a Thread

Today is my 8^th Sunday at home. The week just went by ordinarily, just the usual day at home doing my routine. The pacing of my life as of this moment seems slow but I am definitely (or so I think) enjoying it to bits. Through all the days of my existence I have been living a fast-paced life that I couldn’t find a single second to pause and enjoy the beauty and bounties to behold. I have no time for that and I was too busy finding the easy conduit towards achieving my goals. And surely, there’s just no shortcut through that. The road to success has many re-routes and there’s no road that directly leads to that. So, here I am, still on the rough road that will take me to that soon enough, hopefully.

I found myself awake at a very wee hour this morning, around 2 a.m. I climbed to bed past 12 midnight and I’ve realized that I had a very light sleep. I couldn’t put myself back to sleep so I just decided to read a novel by Paulo Coelho, Veronika Decides to Die until I doze off. Again, I was roused by a very terrible dream and of course, I wouldn’t tell you the content of my dream. It’s just too repugnant that I was sobbing in my sleep. So, that was it.

I opened my computer and was welcomed with some pensive news about a young actor’s death. The death has nothing to do with me or to my kin but it is something that has led me to contemplate once more my values in life. Indeed, life is too precious. It’s like we are hanging by a single thread that any time it can go broken. The concept of death sounds very appalling to me. The thought of it dreads me a lot and it’s the very least thing that I can accept this very moment. As someone inclined to the medical profession I have learnt to accept that it is but part of the natural process of life. However, for me, this does not apply all the time. Death due to senescence is something that we can surely accept though not really with great ease but untimely ones is something that rips us off.

Sunday is a time for us to reflect within ourselves. This is the time for us to meditate and to listen to our inner senses. Today, I have just again contemplated life’s worth. For quite some time, I was not able to do that. It is so precious that we shouldn’t put it to waste by the way we live it everyday. As we wake up each morning, let us not forget to thank the Creator for letting us borrow dear life. Every second that we breathe without gasping for air, is already a gift. See? We are blessed everyday. Count your blessings instead of counting your woes. Live everyday to bits! Have a blessed Sunday everyone!

Stop Grumbling!!!

I was really crestfallen the previous week. I cannot help but wallow in frustration. I was in my nadir. I cannot find peace within myself. Instead, I keep on counting the things that I do not have which made the scenario even worse. I hate the feeling of keeping complaining about my life yet still find myself totally helpless about it. Why can’t I just accept the natural order of things? Why do I always have to lead a life that I really want? According to the great Oscar Wilde, “One’s real life is not the life one chooses to lead”. In life, no matter how we aspire of something, it still needs approval, a heavenly one. When we want to achieve something in life, we should earnestly ask for it. He knows more than we do and He is a loving God who wants us to be happy. If something will just cause us trouble, it would be better not to have it at all. But, why do we feel so depressed at times? This is because of our earthly hunger for mundane things which in real sense, cannot and will not ever bring us the truest form of happiness. Even if it does, it would be something ephemeral, a very short-lived one that you wouldn’t even recognize. Life would’ve been easier if we just accept things the way they are. We are being too hard that we push ourselves beyond the limits. Why don’t we try to awaken our senses and marvel at God’s wonders before our eyes? Can you still appreciate the kind of life you are living? If not, it’s high time that you reflect upon it. Some of us don’t really know the true essence of life. Our lives’ worth is gauged by the way we live it. Life is wonderful though it may not be all that ideal. However, if you just try to go beyond your worldly perspective, you get to experience life at a totally different view. Life is a gift, a precious one that only God can give. We should be happy that we were given the chance to live, to experience how it is to live in flesh otherwise we would have been wandering souls just like the others. Everyday is a reason to live. According to my favorite author, Paulo Coelho, “Life is too short or too long to allow ourselves the luxury of living it badly”. Every moment is worth cherishing. How selfish it is for us to keep grumbling about the kind of life that we have! After all, we are just stewards of our lives and we do not own it. By the minute, the Creator wants it back we cannot do anything but to submit to that holy will. Live like it’s your last! This may be hard but let’s at least try to live by this truism. So, better enjoy your life earthling!

Character of the week: Hafez (Re-Post)

Love sometimes wants to do us a great favor: hold us upside down and shake all the nonsense out.

Your love
Should never be offered to the mouth of a stranger,
Only to someone who has the valor and daring
To cut pieces of their soul off with a knife
Then weave them into a blanket
To protect you.

Stay close to any sounds that make you glad you are alive.

Ever since happiness heard your name, it has been running through the streets trying to find you.
I wish I could show you when you are lonely or in the darkness, the astonishing light of your own being.

There are different wells within your heart.
Some fill with each good rain,
Others are far too deep for that

Fear is the cheapest room in the house. I would like to see you living in better conditions.

Even after all this time the sun never says to the Earth, “You owe me”

There is no pleasure without a tincture of bitterness.

______________________________
Khwāja Šamsu d-Dīn Muḥammad Hāfez-e Šīrāzī, known by his pen name Hāfez (1325/26–1389/90)[1] was a Persian lyric poet.

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Sunday Reflections

Today is another Sunday of my almost a month stay at home. Truly, nothing beats the comfort of our own homes. No matter how far you’ve already gone you will always be coming back home. It is our very comfort zones. This is the reason why I always keep coming back home. I love its laidback ambiance and I could pull back together the memoirs of the delightful past wherein everything is simplified. I love how our home seems to be. It may not be that grandiose for a home but it is beyond compare. Just as what my mother used to tell me, “it’s where we build our foundation towards achieving our aspirations in life”. At home, I can just be me. I don’t have to clad myself in posh clothes. I can just dress up shabbily and I don’t have to put on anything on my face to make myself presentable to the public’s eye. I can just be me. If I’m not mistaken, this is my fourth Sunday at home. This is by far the longest stay that I’ve had since I left for college. My parents even already find it hard to make me come home in the first place. I was all too resistant to their pleas. However, things have its natural order and there’s this force which you cannot repel. It’s as if there’s this big magnet that pulls you back home. So, here I am now, at home, secured and enjoying all the comfort that there is. Today, I have just realized that leaving home is such a poignant thing to do. I mean, I can no longer bring the past and this is the best time for me to spend the best time of my life with my family, while my parents aren’t old enough and they can still appreciate our presence. I have also realized that there are so many things in life that I would personally like to fulfill. I have so many dreams that are yet to be unfolded and these dreams keep my spirit high and my heart aglow. Probably, the reason why I was brought back home is for me to find the missing pieces of these dreams and put them back together once more. God knows what my heart desires and I’m letting Him lead the way. Sabbath day is meant to be spent in His house. Sadly, I wasn’t able to do that. But I’m more than sure that He would always be seated in the deepest chamber of my heart. Have a blessed Sunday everyone.

When You Thought I Wasn’t Looking (Re-post)

This is not the first time that I wasn't able to write for this blog. As usual, I am very busy with work. I just don't have the time to reflect on my thoughts. So, all this time, I have been only re-posting something from my favorite author's blog, Paulo Coelho. Part of my daily ritual is visiting Mr. Coelho's blog because there are so many things to learn right in there. It is definitely magical how he can inspire millions of people everyday. His works of genius propel me to even hone my prowess in writing. I, too, have dreamt of publishing my own book very soon. I say publish because anyone can basically write a book but most of the time, those were kept unpublished. So, I want to share mine with the rest of the people. Writing has always been my passion. This is more than just a hobby. Alright. I won't be making this blog post too long so this would be all for now. Here's what I'd like to share with you all. 

When you thought I wasn’t looking
You hung my first painting on the refrigerator
And I wanted to paint another.
When you thought I wasn’t looking
You fed a stray cat
And I thought it was good to be kind to animals.
When you thought I wasn’t looking
You baked a birthday cake just for me
And I knew that little things were special things.
When you thought I wasn’t looking
You said a prayer
And I believed there was a God that I could always talk to.
When you thought I wasn’t looking
You kissed me good-night
And I felt loved.
When you thought I wasn’t looking
I saw tears come from your eyes
And I learned that sometimes things hurt—
But that it’s alright to cry.
When you thought I wasn’t looking
You smiled
And it made me want to look that pretty too.
When you thought I wasn’t looking
You cared
And I wanted to be everything I could be.
When you thought I wasn’t looking—
I looked . . .
And wanted to say thanks
For all those things you did
When you thought I wasn’t looking.

by Mary Rita Schilke Korzan