Grey Skies | Silver Linings

(May 4, 2012) Last night has been an eye-opener on so many different levels. Perhaps I've only been mildly aware, if not in complete denial, of the things that were said to me. Of things I didn't consider to be "problem areas" but others have noticed. Only after these things have been brought to my attention did I realize that denial can only take a person so far, and it will not make things go away. I feel as if I am a struggling alcoholic, and I've drowned myself with the liquor that is my false notion of contentment. I will be more than relieved to get myself out from that rut. And so begins the Twelve-Step Program to my recovery, the first of which is Admission. That I was not in control of my faculties, and that I was powerless over my compulsion to think that what I've been doing seems to be working. I admit. Something is terribly, terribly wrong. With my projection towards others. With my outlook and perspective in life. With my wants and needs. ...

"...so better things can fall together." I've been hearing this line for the longest time already, though I do not now recall where it came from. ( If anyone can refresh my memory, please do. Apparently this quote is from Marilyn Monroe.) And it strikes me every single time I hear it being said, or see it being written. Yesterday, I stumbled upon my friend's Multiply again and saw a post which contained a part of our chat from a couple of months back. My friend brings up this line and I told her I agreed, except for the latter part -- I guess that's the part that really gets to me. Then she says, "There's no guarantee kase ." Exactly, I said. Exactly. "Good things fall apart." I get that. Temporary as we are, nothing ever really lasts forever in this life. Not even the intangibles. And I'm pretty sure every one of us, if not most of us, can attest to that. It's the latter that doesn't make sen...

"Remember what peace there may be in silence." I have found consolation in these words from Max Ehrmann's " Desiderata " during the wake and burial of my great grandmother Consuelo Macaraeg, who died last week. Two words from that line struck me at once: silence and peace . Silence. On so many different occasions in the life of Grandma has silence played a vital role. Grandma was living in Canada when I was a kid, and every year she would come back home and stay at our place for a couple of weeks. My earliest memories of her were not as fond as I hoped it would be. In fact, I hated when she stayed at our house. I was at that phase in my childhood where I started to answer back to my parents and elders. And every time she heard me answering back, she got really mad. She chased me all around the house with a large pair of scissors in hand, threatening to cut my tongue unless I kept silent. Fortunately for her, it worked. But unfortunately for...

After giving it some thought, I decided to revive my Blogger. Aside from perhaps a need to keep myself busy, or to be more productive with my time, I guess this is because of some inexplicable need to keep writing. Writing has always been one of my most favorite things to do, from as far back as I can remember. It has given me an outlet, a haven, a second voice through my old Friendster blog, my Journal on Multiply, my Twitter, and recently my Notes on Facebook. And oftentimes, I've found it to be rather therapeutic. I would love to keep on writing for as long as there's something to write about. I've got something planned for this blog for at least the first two weeks. After that, well... I don't know. But one thing's for sure. I've got my spark back.