Archive for December 2016

Cliche, I Know

Friday, December 23, 2016 Comments Off

Just around an hour ago, I told my friend that I was going out alone to find a Christmas gift for my friend. The reason why I opted to go out alone, this time, was because of the time consumption and due to the fact that I have not taken myself out for weeks. She was baffled by my choice to go out alone, she called me brave because she was petrified of the thought of being alone amidst the crowd of couples, families, and friends.

I found this a bit funny because people reacted differently whenever I told them that I was about to go out alone, or whenever I told them that I was alone somewhere enjoying my book or writing something or getting my papers done or even just window shopping. The emotions they displayed ranges from surprised and disbelief, though the two of them are not the most extreme. The reactions that I receive always showcases the true nature of their personality.

What is it about being alone that makes people think about loneliness and separation from the cluster of society?

Being alone is supposed to feel liberating. You are allowed to be and feel none other than you are during that particular time and space. You are permitted to use whatever it is in your disposal as means for you to accomplish whatever it is you have in mind during that moment, including not doing anything. You do not have to worry about anything but consuming time. There is no one that could nag you or drag you around. It is a moment where you suppose to enjoy your longtime companion, yourself. The only downside is that you have no one to share with.

Maybe it's also because I grew up differently. Looking back, I am relieved to have experienced certain things in certain ways since I have turned out to be the exact person that I need for myself. I found comfort and companionship being alone, though not necessarily the entire time. My past built me into this person that do not turn away the chances of being alone, the person that actually looks forward to being alone and immerses herself in the situation. Don't get me wrong, I love meeting up with people and sharing everything with them, yet there is particular kind of peace that I crave whenever I've spent days interacting with people.

Currently, true to my nature, I am writing in a well-known coffee shop while drinking an iced cappuccino. Cliche, I know. But this is where I blossom best; where my thoughts are synchronized and not wandering unintentionally. Maybe this is how you define my comfort zone because it's a place that I run back to whenever I want to feel safe and secure: by myself behind a laptop, writing something while people watching. But this is also my greatest weakness. I have come to rely on myself so much that I do not find the concept of other people leading my life for me a pleasant one. My lone journey is still incomplete.

However, this is not saying that I love being lonely. Being alone and being lonely are two different concepts; though both give us equal meaning of feeling estranged, the first one is felt by choice while the second one comes to you inadvertently. I have found myself in the two situations, both simultaneously and separately.

It's difficult to write about being lonely. The first thing that came in mind was "what kind" and "how come". There are different types of loneliness, and I intend to write about that since I have felt most kind of loneliness. We will see how it turns out. Since, after all, loneliness is a terribly unexpected visitor that knocks in the door in inopportune times. It has been a guest in my mind and in my heart for a very, very long time.

I don't think it has ever, or it will ever, left.

Riotous Path

Tuesday, December 13, 2016 Comments Off

Maybe, in the end everyone is the same.

I have always thought that being in your twenty means that you have solved everything in your life. Surely navigating life's tumultuous circumstances would be easy by now since you are legally labeled as an adult after all. Yet, that is not the case at all with current young generation, though calling it current young generation seems like distancing myself from the collective.

This young generation know too much, experience events too soon, overqualified for the listed jobs, and yet, we have to survive under the terms that have been set forth by the people before us. A nightmare for the minds whose needs are to be more than settling in to the life that has been paved by the ones who preceded them. The minds who crave to be more and reach further. With full heart, headful of knowledge, we will never be satisfied with only desk job with passive and slow career path.

We are qualified in terms of adaptability in the modern world, adjusting ourselves to the lives of technology and advanced science; to a life of infinite knowledge and fast-paced information. The life of extreme taking and giving.

But not everything can catch up with the updates, with the knowledge and information and technology. The majority of life is still moving in its own pace; eloquent, slow, but deliberate. The majority of the industry is still trying to revive itself after looking itself in the mirror and seeing something ancient and replaceable; gathering bits of energy and resource to compete with its more current counterpart. What are they expecting if they do not feel like they are not compelled to change.

Not only the industry, the people working behind it are also still trying to smoothly sail the riotous path that is the future. Everyone, regardless everything that builds them as their identity, is questioning where life is heading when everything is delivered in an instant period and consumed within the same course. The world is pulling us apart, trying to disconnect us from the past while throwing us to the unknown future without any warning. Not one person is exempted from this.

This unknown and the fear of it is shared by many, something that, simultaneously, distances and connects us.

her long winded journey home

Monday, December 12, 2016 Comments Off

act I (the disappearance):
she disappeared before winter. the sun was no longer shining brightly, but her skin was still glowing
in tan, in amber, in sweet bloom. a testament to her tropical ancestor.
no longer here, we sought her presence, trying to look for the tropical beauty that was
her soul, her marred and marked soul.
stations after stations we looked after her, questioning everyone and even our own sanity,
was she really there? did we produce shared fantasy of a soul wrapped up in silky tresses and glowing skin?
we were greeted by weeks of collecting stories from eyewitnesses that saw a woman with an honest smile and exotic kindness

act II (the odyssey):
the days went by, slowly. as if the universe was not supporting us in our feat. the longer the day gets
the longer she was missing. seconds stretched on longer than necessary.
we shared the tales of loving her and how it came to be when we fell for her; these were the ways
we conjured her. these were the ways she was alive without her being present.
to the north, the eyewitnesses say, to the north.
how much farther to the north do we need to be until the sky was brightened by her personality again
how much farther until all we got of her is no longer the longing
how much farther until her
the farther we go, it seems, the harder to catch her

act III (the investigation):
it was winter solstice when we caught a glimpse of her. the holidays season. everything was grey,
befitting to the unhappiness that we felt after getting by without her.
we wanted to greet her. our sun, in the north.
oh such woe, we wallowed. the closest we were with her, the farthest we feel. how could she do this,
going farther away from us, farther away from her home, farther away from
the ones that had been nurturing her.
there, suddenly someone said. pointing at a secluded cafe. we could see her holding a cup of coffee
and our hearts in her nimble hands.
what was she doing in this perpetual frost? didn't she know that her heart beat in the same way
the leaves sing in the forest and the ocean greet the beach in the summer?
why would she escape from her precursor? from the lives that were passed on to her through genetics? was there a better home than her past? could she assemble better life than the one that had been presented by her ancestor?

act IV (the answer):
the questions disappeared altogether when we saw her properly:
in a nest she called home, in a situation she called comfort, in a scenery she called familiarity
in a life she called her own
no one should have denied her any of this
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