Sunday, July 22, 2012

Silence Loves a Loner



You can find her at the solitude table eating her packed lunch alone. There she is at her spot busy doodling when all other persons around her were busy chatting and laughing. Amidst the raucous and rowdy surrounding, the ghost of silence was drawn to her. It sits unknowingly on her shoulder and found solace at the girl. A girl whom awhile ago was accused as a loner. 

So the loner in me finally found someone whom I can attract and be drawn to me. I don’t know but suddenly I felt like I found my old self again. My old self whom I loved the most but was lost because I was trying to be more with the world I was in. But, then again out of nowhere when someone shouted and called me a loner, I felt like having amnesia and was healed when I heard that word. I came to know again that this is the very soul of me. 

Ever since, I was young my teachers would have the same repetitious comments on my report card; timid, shy, quiet and whatever adjective that can be synonymous to those three words. I do not think my parents were even bothered about it. I think they were just scared eventually as I grew up, because they think I may not be ready for the world and it might eat me up in whole. I was not the mean type of a fighter or someone who would even try to get even when being steeped on. Though sometimes my being timid and shy is like  bait to those people who have the habit of making other people's lives miserable. But sometimes my being quiet also wards them off my life and they left me alone. Maybe they realize that I am boring with fighting back.

And right now, if someone asked me if this is my weakness then indeed it is. Honestly, I was having a hard time pinpointing my strengths and weaknesses. But I came to a conclusion that my being a loner and the silent type are both my weakness and strength. As I try to battle my way and be one with the world, eventually the weakness of being a loner become my own strength. As the name calling of being a loner echoed in my ear I felt my strength. I have talk about finding solace in silence and I guess it has fell in love with me in the very first place. In the very first place that I cried on my own, felt hurt like I can no longer breathe and surrendering my pain. Silence was there to embrace me when I felt alone and ignored.  It was like an unrequited love waiting to be loved back. It is true when they say that we should not bury our roots deeply in this world. As a loner, I learned that as I tend to do that we are sooner or later; losing ourselves. It is like we pattern our lives with the way the world has to when it is not really the right way. And here I am hearing the call of silence and embracing my solitude as I know I will always have to keep up with the world where everybody is changing and influencing you. But I know I will always have silence and my loner self to save me.

You can see me eating lunch alone at a solitude table or at a corner deep in a book or just writing something. I guess I have my own world and anyone can feel free to be in mine. But I know when I felt alone my first lover; Silence would always love a Loner in me.

Saturday, June 16, 2012

Fix.Keep.Save.


I am the one who hoards everything that seem to be of value to me. Everything that has significance. Even if it is worn down by time and mold because I have kept it for a long time. I will try to fix it. I always thought that everything is worth keeping like how you keep a friend. It is like a toy that has been with you for a long time. It is like the memories and the times you have shared with it that makes it worth keeping. It is just very much how you keep and save a friendship. 

I never thought of bad things to someone. As some of my friends tell me, I always see the god side to everyone even if no one seems to notice it. I know that someone has their reason why they end up like that or why they choose to be that way. I am not saying that I am nice in every way. I got a taste of my own shortcomings and wickedness. I tend to fix and save myself from it. And because of that I see every weak person as a broken toy to be fixed. I am the one who believes that eventually that someone might get influence that I brushed on them. For my boring kindness to be rubbed upon their exciting actions. I got the taste of a million expectations that ends in disappointment. I got the feeling of a million hopeful wishes that were shattered in vain. I got the pain and the tears of giving up and being scared of regret when I thought of surrendering but in the end I still did not. Like a child with innocent hopes, I tend to cling on the thin line of hope that someday, that someone can be fixed. And in the end, I can finally say that I did a wonderful job and all my sacrifices are worth it. 

But through all these struggles of fixing someone I have come to a conclusion that not everyone can be fixed. Like a good 'ole broken toy it will eventually be left at a corner and accumulate dust through time. But again that does not mean that I easily surrender. Not everyone can be fixed by someone if they do not want to fix themselves. So I did what I do best; accept and understand. I learned to keep it together. Even keep it forever for myself if not for them. I am still going to believe and by keeping the bond I tend to cherish the hardships that made me more of a person that I should be in this life. I keep myself for I was the one who accepts and does not know how to give up. 

Through the hoping in vain and expecting disappointments I know I would never stop trusting in everyone else innate kindness. It would not even make my hope falter a bit. It is just a matter of how they make themselves worthy of my faith on them. Those who walk away not proving anything are cowards. Those who wasted the effort and time of a friend are going to be regretful.

I know how lovely is the feeling of being a trusted friend and people believing to keep a friendship with you. I did not know how many times my heart was touched and enamored by the feeling of this amazing bond. I know the stomachaches and teary eyes from the almost non-stop laughs shared with them. I will always feel the lingering warmth of hugs and kisses for the comfort and you knowing that someone is there for you no matter what. And even if someone leaves, I know I will keep them in my heart. Or even if someone ends it, I know there would be those ones who will stay for forever. 

If it is worth fixing, I know it is worth keeping it. And if it is worth keeping it then it is definitely worth saving.

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

As Told By Ginger - And She Was Gone




She chose to walk alone.
Though others wondered why.
Refused to look before her,
Kept eyes cast upwards,
Towards the sky.
She didn't have companions.
No need for earthly things.
Only wanted freedom,
From what she felt were puppet strings.
She longed to be a bird.
That she might fly away.
She pitied every blade of grass
For planted they would stay.
She longed to be a flame.
That brightly danced alone.
Felt jealous of the steam
That made the air its only home.
Some say she wished too hard.
Some say she wished too long.
But we awoke one autumn day
To find that she was gone.
Some say she wished too hard.
Some say she wished too long.
But we awoke one autumn day
To find that she was gone.
The trees, they say, stood witness.
The sky refused to tell.
But someone who had seen it
Said the story played out well.
She spread her arms out wide.
Breathed in the break of dawn.
She just let go of all she held...
And then she was gone.

Monday, May 14, 2012

Road to Martyrdom

I was the one who gives and seldom ask something in return. Then, I finally got the feeling of hoping to be help for but came back in the end helpless. I felt the moment when someone else turns their back on you. I usually do get those moments but this is the time that I really need help but got nothing. I do not get mad or try to get even with this kind of situation. Most likely on a typical human nature we try to get on the safe side by not giving too much or just by trying to get revenge on those people who turned their backs on us. I have learned to get by on my own most of the time but there would come a time we would need something from someone; so we seek help. I am not the one who is scared of asking for help if I really need one and so I did but was in vain.


 As I said I got to understand and accept that there might be something worth more important than my need. But I found myself crying, for the unfairness and my stupidity. Some people say I am too good to be true but most of the times people regard me as a martyr. I am a giver in all sense: to whatever smallest thing that I have that can help someone I would give it wholeheartedly without hesitation. I am not born wealthy, I just know the feeling of having nothing from having something and being able to share it with other people. One friend even told me that martyrs get killed. But unlike me and the rest of other martyrs out there; we are unsung. We are left in the dark by those ungrateful people. I sound like I am angry right now but I am not. I am just heartbroken and disappointed (most of the time I am disappointed). Maybe then it was my fault people took me for granted because I let them do this to me and just continue to be meek and quiet. But I really cannot afford to be angry because it will just lead me to regrets and waste of time. Anyway, I believe in the power of karma. It will eventually come around and be in my favor.


It is just sad that a simple thank you is thrown a little bit too much now and has lost its rightful meaning. There are just those real people who are born thick-skinned or just use gratitude for the sake of using it. It is so difficult to believe in what is real and to feel what kindness is when some people are just so ridiculously unbelievable in a bad way. In a world where we meet a variety of personalities that gives us a confusion of emotions we sometimes give up on believing in humanity already. I cannot give up even if they say martyrs get killed and would just die in vain. I just keep my faith like I always did. I do can get my on my own but it sometimes is wonderful for a heart that hopes to have someone who can fully appreciate a martyr like me.

Thursday, May 10, 2012

A Thousand Splendid Suns (Book Review)



Women like us. We endure. It's all we have.

Moving and grips my very heart.This book already sent me to tears as I was just reading a few pages of it. A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini; the title was derive from a poem by Saib-e-Tabrizi back in 17th century. Here is a line from the poem:

One could not count the moons that shimmer on her roofs.
Or the thousand splendid suns that hide behind her walls.


The book unfolds the story of two Afghan women; Mariam and Laila thrown into each others lives amidst their war-torn country. First we get to know the young Mariam who lives with her mother away from the prying people of the city of Herat because she was a harami (a bastard). At a young age she adored her father even though she had to share his love and affection with his three wives and ten other children. Soon, Mariam faced the sorrow of losing her mother and the realization that her father was really ashamed of her. At fifteen, she was forced to marry a troubled and bitter man; Rasheed from Kabul thirty years her senior. This man will eventually beat her and enslaved her because she was not able to give him a child. Then Mariam was forced to welcome the orphaned Laila. At the height of the unrest, Laila lost her parents and was separated from her beloved Tariq. With nothing left for her Laila decided to marry Rasheed to save her child as she believed a lie that Tariq was already dead.

Together, Mariam and Laila built a friendship that knows no blood relation and boundaries. They found solace in each other as they faced unfathomable struggle and pain of being a woman in a country consumed by war, starvation, brutality, inequality and poverty. The book shows you how a woman suffers in silence, fights for a hope so bleak, and trust in love that endures everything.

The story reflects the struggle of Afghan women to fight for their rightful in their society during the climax of war from the leaving of the Soviets to the Taliban rule and up until President Bush declared war against Osama Bin Laden. In the story, Mariam suffered the shame of being an illegitimate child. Laila was forced to give birth through Caesarian without any anesthesia in a hospital with meager facilities. Women were never allowed to travel without a man companion or else they will be beaten. They were force to wear the traditional burqa to hide their faces without any accessories. They fought with man to have equal rights but in vain. This book was dedicated to all Afghanistan women and their plight. God only knows how things right now in Afghanistan are. Surely, things might be totally different now and we can only hope that the women are not suffering like this anymore. A heart can only endure so much, anyway.


Each snowflake was a sigh heaved by an aggrieved woman somewhere in the world. All the sighs drifted up the sky, gathered into clouds, then broke into tiny pieces that fell silently on the people below. As a reminder of how women suffer.

Sunday, April 22, 2012

A Grammatic Life

I always dreamed of becoming a bestseller author of a book or a renowned writer. Then life seems to get so busy and too dramatic that my writing skills are more of a free way of emotions in my life than a group of carefully chosen words that fit perfectly well. Without any grammatical error. Maybe my dream would still take its effect sooner or later. But I learned to love the life as I have right now as I also love writing about it in every way I can.


Life can really be frustrating like in finding the perfect words to fit in a sentence. As infuriating as it is on the never ending questions marks that we have in mind that were always left unanswered. Excitement and fun that we put as many exclamation points that we can just to express the intensity of what are feelings could be. And then there would be endings like what we use period for. When all has been said and done we say it with a period. Sometimes when we just need a break we say it with a comma. Or when there is still something worth saving for in a blur of words that we tried hard to make it sensible.

But life does not really makes sense most of the time like words and phrases lost in a mixed of feelings and thoughts. Then like any good writer who wants to send a message so everyone can relate to; I try to save the sentence. Like how I try to save my life in each and every day of my life. We are trying to be survivors like every run-on sentence that has the fear of being removed from a paragraph. We are all trying to make an impression and be a part of something to see our purpose.

So when a period, a comma or even an exclamation point is not necessary I save it with a semicolon. A semicolon can combine two contradicting sentences or how to independent clauses can be united in one sentence. A semicolon in our lives is like a hope that reaches out to a life close to surrendering. It does not always have to end with a period so we can start all over again. It is not really necessary questioning it and keep finding some answers when we do not really need to. We just have to keep on moving. We need to read along life as a sentence so we can see the real picture and understand it. As a person who writes often, I noticed how my sentences can be too long and how a semicolon can give meaning to it and let the person breathe as they read it. It helps me to connect a negative clause to its positive counterpart. A semicolon shows the faith of how bad things can eventually turn into a good thing. Like the tears that we cry that life gives us do not always have to end in sadness. It sometimes is the divide when smiling and laughing is not enough.

In every day that we have, in evry ticking of the clock everything has to move. I know my dream can be a period if it would end now or an exclamation point in the future. But right now I can be a comma or a semicolon. This is how dramatic or grammatic my life can be...

Sunday, April 15, 2012

The Chronicles of E (Book Review)

"My name is E. I am 25 years old. I stand 5 feet and 7 inches,weighs 145 lbs. I have light complexion. I am a recovering drug addict and this is my diary."


You might think this is a typical introduction. You might think this would just be an ordinary book. But think again. I was recommending another book to a close friend that turned out was already out of stock. My friend was surprised to see this book and he said it was originally a blog. We found ourselves on the bookstore's floor reading it. It was not a thick book but I found myself already in to the book. It has a Parental Guidance on its cover for its explicit content. Even then, the book started lightly and I was even laughing on some part of it. He wrote his entry in such a way that even though it is really a serious situation you found yourself smiling with the way he inserted some sarcasm.


It chronicles the Life of E. A confessed drug addict. A bisexual who has mastered the art of using people for his personal gains. He grew up away from his family but I can say he was always supported especially on his studies. But he drop out of school and had vices.He learned to climb up the ladder to what he called Clans (group of some influential people who do drugs) so he can sustain his vices. Sex was also a vital part in it. But along his journey E also met people who had influenced him and made him feel weak and reminded him that he is only human.


Half-way through in reading the book I can say his evil I despised him or even loathe him in some things that he did to other people or even to himself. He disregard his self-worth and enter prostitution when he does not even need to be in that business. I was crashed when he pushed someone to his death, which did nothing but to love him unconditionally. But I was touched as he was able to find true friends along. I particularly loved the character of Cousin. He was E's closest friend. Cousin was a drug addict also but he learned to stop. Through it all, he was with E no matter what. He accepted E's misdemeanor, his craziness and he never fails to cry for E when the latter fail to do so for himself.

But all the fun has to stop and E’s life finally turn to a snap when he learned that he was HIV positive. He thought this was his karma, for all the wrongdoings and the lessons he neglected. I felt sorry for him in a way but he got my full admiration as he went on to be a survivor. Yes, reading how E lived his life maybe revolting or demoralizing for some but no one can blame him on the life he had chosen to live. My heart goes to him as I read along the parts when he tried to start again and right the wrongs that should have been right at the beginning. I was no longer laughing on his sarcasm; in fact I was close to tears. It was heartbreaking but E did not surrender. He knew where he went wrong and he knew his was not an ideal life to lead. His life is a great example for a lesson learned in a hard way when you have chosen to ignore it.

Indeed, life is everybody's choice. No one should take the blame. Whatever the life we chose to follow is a decision that we take. It is just a matter of how we put our best foot forward in every battle life has to give. It is a matter of stumbling and fumbling our way so we can eventually call ourselves survivors. In a way, I envy E for the life he lead, on the things that he was able to do and the fun that he chose to have. E has the courage of a man that some of us never had. His life does not know any regrets but only risks taken to make him the person he is now.


This book can change someone's outlook in life. It did change me. It gave me more meaning to a different life outside of me. It gave me a profound understanding of how life can indeed change us in a matter of seconds. It also gives knowledge about HIV. People have little information about it. I think they find HIV repulsive because they always associate it with sex and drugs. But HIV is just like any other disease just blown out of proportion that is why people often find HIV positive patients filthy or an outcast.

"My name is E. I am 26 years old. I stand 5 feet and 7 inches,weighs 145 lbs. I have light complexion. I am a recovering drug addict and this is my diary."