"We tend to withdraw our love from people who disappoint us."
That was the Homily Father Dave gave after reading the Gospel on Christ’s genealogy. Normally I would’ve just zoned-out somewhere between Abraham and…Joseph, but due to two scoops of instant coffee plus some Chips Ahoy, I was off zombie mode. And I was listening intently to what the priest was saying on what would’ve been just another Wednesday mass. Though sometimes I caught myself jittering in my seat, shaking my feet a bit, biting my lips…as if I’ve suddenly gotten too much residual energy (almost made me think the coffee’s spiked) I felt like all my senses were heightened. I was listening. I was looking at the Christmas decors, I was feeling the cold and nippy air, and I sat there, knowing that I was happy. Everything was coming through my senses and everything was being processed. Even the homily that struck me as true, poignant, and even to a point was a hurtful realization--made me, weirdly, happy. Because truth spewed out so simply, laid out plainly before my face was just nice. Whom have I withdrawn my love from? Who could’ve withdrawn their love from me? I don’t know. Well, I sort of know. Suddenly the nasty habit has been exposed. So bluntly put that it's amazing how something so obvious could all of a sudden spark a profound realization. But this doesn’t feel like the time to go on accounting for love withdrawn or deposited. This felt more like the time of simply being conscious of what’s been happening. Of the things that would otherwise have passed me by as I breezed through life on auto-pilot. Now that the nasty habit's been exposed, it's time for conscious effort to (hopefully) kick-in some reform.
Life’s too short to be spent hurting.
There’s no such thing as hopeless cases, only hopeless people.
If God Himself never gave up on us, then we shouldn’t give up on ourselves too.
Nice words from Father Dave. Things which he had already said numerous Wednesdays. For some reason, Christmas just made me feel more aware of what they meant. Set in the backdrop of lechon, chirpy people on the walkway happily spending their Christmas bonuses on gifts, Starbucks, and Christmas lunches, celebrations, and even more lechon (Cebu lechon, hrmmmm...with the oomphly flavorful meat, so tender...I digress), these words just seemed to have more of the wakey-wakey factor.
Bittersweet words--set on Christmas time, are more sweet than bitter. And they just made me feel more happy, grateful, awake to my own life.
==========
Don’t forget, Ceycey:
Sidenote. On this day, I finally met ‘Mang Johnny’. The nice old man who always heard mass by the doorway near GB5; and always had that ‘I’m happy to be alive, I hope you are too’ smile.
Another sidenote: I never would’ve thought that was the list’s relevance—the enumeration of names was a testament to how God won’t ‘withdraw his love’ from us. Down the line from Abraham to Jesus were people who were adulterers, dishonest, basically sinners—but from that gene pool came Christ. God ought to have been disappointed, but still, he chose to love. Father Dave Concepcion rocks.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Choco-peanut butter bars
These days I've been as volatile as the stock market; bailed-out/ pleasantly buoyed by choco-peanut butter bars.
First one from that pleasant girl at Starbucks named Dimples who kindly checked the storage freezer to find that there were still 2 bars left; the other one from Popo who passed by the office tonight (after my having said no to innumerable invitations to simply meet up) to...what have we here...hand over a much-needed peanut butter bar.
I suspect that God bribes me with food. That feels a bit blasphemous, having to use the word 'bribe', but I know He knows what I mean. Sweetness, nga naman, feels much sweeter on those days when things seem undeniably, bland. And what I can't seem to get a taste of in Life, my tongue gets to at least cherish for a few moments. Not exactly a fair deal. But definitely, better than air.
Although I am deeply hoping it's there. I haven't gotten around to appreciating the flavors completely. It has to be there. Whatever It is.
First one from that pleasant girl at Starbucks named Dimples who kindly checked the storage freezer to find that there were still 2 bars left; the other one from Popo who passed by the office tonight (after my having said no to innumerable invitations to simply meet up) to...what have we here...hand over a much-needed peanut butter bar.
I suspect that God bribes me with food. That feels a bit blasphemous, having to use the word 'bribe', but I know He knows what I mean. Sweetness, nga naman, feels much sweeter on those days when things seem undeniably, bland. And what I can't seem to get a taste of in Life, my tongue gets to at least cherish for a few moments. Not exactly a fair deal. But definitely, better than air.
Although I am deeply hoping it's there. I haven't gotten around to appreciating the flavors completely. It has to be there. Whatever It is.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Move.
Another sunset.
Another color on the grayish-bluish sky.
And still.
Nothing.
What would amount to something?
Apart from the marks on the to-do list.
And yet another day near Friday.
Who keeps count anyway?
Nobody. You.
And that nagging feeling you get when you lay down in bed and ask yourself, so what have we done well today?
If only purpose came from a fortune cookie.
With chocolate chips, and some peanut butter.
I'd probably gobble it down and keep on wondering, still.
Another color on the grayish-bluish sky.
And still.
Nothing.
What would amount to something?
Apart from the marks on the to-do list.
And yet another day near Friday.
Who keeps count anyway?
Nobody. You.
And that nagging feeling you get when you lay down in bed and ask yourself, so what have we done well today?
If only purpose came from a fortune cookie.
With chocolate chips, and some peanut butter.
I'd probably gobble it down and keep on wondering, still.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Today I met Pogi
It's one of those days when you tell yourself, zzzz... Let's just get this day over and done with. But when dad dropped me off at the usual spot in front of Makati Sports, I was in for a pleasant surprise.
There he was, standing, enjoying the cool air...I came near him tentatively. But I couldn't help myself so I just had to go near him. So I asked Ate, "Can I pet him?"
Ate:Oo, mabait yan.
So I sat down, patted his fluffy head and couldn't stop saying, "Hello...hello, ang cute cute mooooo!"
Cey: Ate, ano'ng pangalan nya?
Ate Nita (I asked for her name too :): Pogi.
Ganda.
He was all-black. All-hairy. Looked like a stocky bear with feet so short his tummy would touch the ground if he took on a few more pounds. Apparently he's a cross between a chowchow and some other breed (a lab, I guess) So imagine this: he had the head of a lab, but furrier, and the body of a chowchow! He looked like a live teddy bear! And he just stood there, wagged his tail as I went on patting his head saying "Hello, pogi! Helloo" with that irritating pitch my voice takes on when I see something/someone really cute.
Chris Abani said, "I will know my humanity only when it's reflected back to me." He was talking about ubuntu, I think.
This morning, for some strange reason, it felt like my humanity was reflected back to me, by a dog. Weird as it may sound, it felt nice. And I walked to the office with a slightly different gait.
There he was, standing, enjoying the cool air...I came near him tentatively. But I couldn't help myself so I just had to go near him. So I asked Ate, "Can I pet him?"
Ate:Oo, mabait yan.
So I sat down, patted his fluffy head and couldn't stop saying, "Hello...hello, ang cute cute mooooo!"
Cey: Ate, ano'ng pangalan nya?
Ate Nita (I asked for her name too :): Pogi.
Ganda.
He was all-black. All-hairy. Looked like a stocky bear with feet so short his tummy would touch the ground if he took on a few more pounds. Apparently he's a cross between a chowchow and some other breed (a lab, I guess) So imagine this: he had the head of a lab, but furrier, and the body of a chowchow! He looked like a live teddy bear! And he just stood there, wagged his tail as I went on patting his head saying "Hello, pogi! Helloo" with that irritating pitch my voice takes on when I see something/someone really cute.
Chris Abani said, "I will know my humanity only when it's reflected back to me." He was talking about ubuntu, I think.
This morning, for some strange reason, it felt like my humanity was reflected back to me, by a dog. Weird as it may sound, it felt nice. And I walked to the office with a slightly different gait.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Eraserheads. Ligaya. Alapaap. Wag sanang Huling El Bimbo.
Last night: It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.
No, wait...I take it back. It wasn’t the worst of times. It was a preview of heaven. A miracle in 45 minutes. It was cut short because Ely had to be rushed to the hospital. I was sad. At some point as Laly (Ely’s sister) read the message onstage, saying that Ely was thankful for the support and was truly regretful that he couldn’t go on further due to his ailing heart (after a heart operation and his mom dying, ailing is an understatement) at the back of my mind I was still hoping that someone onstage would say, “Jokejokejoke! Here comes Ely!” It would’ve been in such bad taste, but having them go on for 2 more sets would’ve sent me straight off to Nirvana.
It was sad because everyone got worried about Ely. But I pray that God would give him more years of song-writing…and hopefully, more years for Eheads.
That’s the thing about Eheads, it’s like a marriage of cool people. Individually they’re good, cool; but strewn together and they make magic happen. Their songs are their wonderful kids, their gifts to the world, their tickets to immortality. The very insurance that long after they’re gone, their names would go on. Because their songs will still stir anyone’s soul.
My voice is still hoarse from last night. With each song they played, I sang with them. I sang my heart, innards, even the tiny hangnail at the side of the littlest toe on my foot sang out. There they were, Markus, Raimund, Buddy, and Ely (THE ERASERHEADS. Admittedly, I can’t think of the band surviving without Ely. But neither would it stand without Markus, Buddy or Raimund. As I said, theirs was a marriage. And it could not have worked out that much…sorry for using the term again…magic, were it not for these people who were so right for each other; na minsan sa may Kalayaan ay pinagtagpo…naging tunay na…magkaibigan.)
It was effortless magic onstage. And it felt amazing to just close my eyes, sing all-out and dance…dance like nobody was watching. Each song they played spoke to me, and probably to every other person in the 45,000 people in the audience. Do they know me? How come they’re singing about my life? How could they have been so great? How could they have let something this beautiful end?
Not just the concert. The band. They have their reasons. And the cliché ‘Some good things never last’ comes to mind. But it doesn’t feel apt. Because though the band stopped playing, they never really ended the music. The magic never got erased.
At the start of the concert, as the countdown ended and I heard the first chords to Alapaap, I almost exploded. 10 years I’ve waited for this. The last time I saw them was at Cervini Hall, I still remember the shirt I wore. The hoarse croak that came out of my mouth when it finally ended. The sweat that covered every microcentimeter of my body. It was mind-blowing. Amazing. Like no other. No matter how hard I try to describe it, I never could. And last night, with that one chord, I swear, I almost exploded…with so much emotions, with such intensity to finally come in for the kill, and release all the pent-up AAAAhhhhhhs!!! Woooohooooooooooos!!!! That only their songs could heartfuly solicit.
Nobody does it better.
I think it was in the middle of Shake yer head that I raised my eyes to the skies as I gyrated to their music and I sang along, that I thought: Pwede na. Pwede na kong mamatay. But syempre, I recanted that statement right away. I don’t want to die. Not just yet. But seeing them there once again, it was like (sorry to be baduy) a dream come true. It’s one of those things that’s probably in my ‘things to do before I die list’ if ever I made one: See the Eheads in concert again.
I’m not so sure which song, I think it was after ‘Kailan’ when Ely said, “Thank you!”
And as people in the crowd took a few seconds of rest, I shouted out back “Thank you! Thank you!”
And I say, Thank you for the music. You don’t know me. I don’t know you personally. But your music has been the theme songs of my life.
Wag kang matakot na umibig at lumuha…kasama mo naman ako.
Lift your head, baby don’t be scared of the things that could go wrong along the way.
When you find yourself in a compromising spot, you should know you shouldn’t take all that dog food that they make. You’d just as soon as put yourself on the stake and burn. You’ll see it coming around. You’ll see it coming around. Oh, when you’ll see it coming around…you just…yeah…shake yer head and walk away.
How it feels so strange, to have grown and changed. Now it’s not the same…’cause time, slips and slides into another place and try as we might to understand each other doesn’t really matter where you are however near, is still so far. It’s like you’re light years away. You’re light years away, from me.
Magkahawak ang ating kamay, at walang kamalay-malay…na tinuruan mo ang puso ko na umibig na tunay.
You were there. For 45 minutes you were there. And then the lights went down. And it was time to go. An abrupt goodbye. It was sad, and worrying because someone’s life was on the line. Thank God, as of last night, text messages were saying that Ely had been in a stable condition. (and it was amazing how everyone really prayed for that minute when the organizers asked everyone to offer a prayer for Ely). Sad…but again, it’s a matter of perspective. Still, that was 45 minutes of magic. An offering of music that spoke to everyone in an indescribable way. Music that cuts through age and socio-economic class. Sincerely, the people there was a microcosm of the Philippine society. Everyone from the cono to the jolog spectrum had been represented. Probably if the Eheads would ask for a rally, just imagine the crowd they could draw. Unbelievable charisma. Such honest words. Such piercing lyrics that never pretended to be anything other than what they really say. Not to sound blasphemous, but they are the Buddha of Philippine music. Each song has an undeniable piece of wisdom to impart. Yeah yeah, some lines could be taken as bullcrap (a part of me cringes at that blasphemy), but it’s the kind of bullcrap that stops you off your tracks and makes you go and think…Oo nga ano.
Seeing them up there made me think. I want to be an Eraserhead. No, not sing (heaven forbid) or play the drums, bass or guitar (although I tried to learn the guitar back in hs just so I could play their songs on Jingle). But be as great as them. Have passion for my craft. Speak to everyone, move them with my words, breach barriers, and stir people into believing that there will always be reason to scream at life like there’s no tomorrow.
Masdan mo aking mata, di mo ba nakikita?
Ako’y lumililipad at nasa alapaap na.
Gusto mo bang sumama?
Salamat, salamat Eheads.
No, wait...I take it back. It wasn’t the worst of times. It was a preview of heaven. A miracle in 45 minutes. It was cut short because Ely had to be rushed to the hospital. I was sad. At some point as Laly (Ely’s sister) read the message onstage, saying that Ely was thankful for the support and was truly regretful that he couldn’t go on further due to his ailing heart (after a heart operation and his mom dying, ailing is an understatement) at the back of my mind I was still hoping that someone onstage would say, “Jokejokejoke! Here comes Ely!” It would’ve been in such bad taste, but having them go on for 2 more sets would’ve sent me straight off to Nirvana.
It was sad because everyone got worried about Ely. But I pray that God would give him more years of song-writing…and hopefully, more years for Eheads.
That’s the thing about Eheads, it’s like a marriage of cool people. Individually they’re good, cool; but strewn together and they make magic happen. Their songs are their wonderful kids, their gifts to the world, their tickets to immortality. The very insurance that long after they’re gone, their names would go on. Because their songs will still stir anyone’s soul.
My voice is still hoarse from last night. With each song they played, I sang with them. I sang my heart, innards, even the tiny hangnail at the side of the littlest toe on my foot sang out. There they were, Markus, Raimund, Buddy, and Ely (THE ERASERHEADS. Admittedly, I can’t think of the band surviving without Ely. But neither would it stand without Markus, Buddy or Raimund. As I said, theirs was a marriage. And it could not have worked out that much…sorry for using the term again…magic, were it not for these people who were so right for each other; na minsan sa may Kalayaan ay pinagtagpo…naging tunay na…magkaibigan.)
It was effortless magic onstage. And it felt amazing to just close my eyes, sing all-out and dance…dance like nobody was watching. Each song they played spoke to me, and probably to every other person in the 45,000 people in the audience. Do they know me? How come they’re singing about my life? How could they have been so great? How could they have let something this beautiful end?
Not just the concert. The band. They have their reasons. And the cliché ‘Some good things never last’ comes to mind. But it doesn’t feel apt. Because though the band stopped playing, they never really ended the music. The magic never got erased.
At the start of the concert, as the countdown ended and I heard the first chords to Alapaap, I almost exploded. 10 years I’ve waited for this. The last time I saw them was at Cervini Hall, I still remember the shirt I wore. The hoarse croak that came out of my mouth when it finally ended. The sweat that covered every microcentimeter of my body. It was mind-blowing. Amazing. Like no other. No matter how hard I try to describe it, I never could. And last night, with that one chord, I swear, I almost exploded…with so much emotions, with such intensity to finally come in for the kill, and release all the pent-up AAAAhhhhhhs!!! Woooohooooooooooos!!!! That only their songs could heartfuly solicit.
Nobody does it better.
I think it was in the middle of Shake yer head that I raised my eyes to the skies as I gyrated to their music and I sang along, that I thought: Pwede na. Pwede na kong mamatay. But syempre, I recanted that statement right away. I don’t want to die. Not just yet. But seeing them there once again, it was like (sorry to be baduy) a dream come true. It’s one of those things that’s probably in my ‘things to do before I die list’ if ever I made one: See the Eheads in concert again.
I’m not so sure which song, I think it was after ‘Kailan’ when Ely said, “Thank you!”
And as people in the crowd took a few seconds of rest, I shouted out back “Thank you! Thank you!”
And I say, Thank you for the music. You don’t know me. I don’t know you personally. But your music has been the theme songs of my life.
Wag kang matakot na umibig at lumuha…kasama mo naman ako.
Lift your head, baby don’t be scared of the things that could go wrong along the way.
When you find yourself in a compromising spot, you should know you shouldn’t take all that dog food that they make. You’d just as soon as put yourself on the stake and burn. You’ll see it coming around. You’ll see it coming around. Oh, when you’ll see it coming around…you just…yeah…shake yer head and walk away.
How it feels so strange, to have grown and changed. Now it’s not the same…’cause time, slips and slides into another place and try as we might to understand each other doesn’t really matter where you are however near, is still so far. It’s like you’re light years away. You’re light years away, from me.
Magkahawak ang ating kamay, at walang kamalay-malay…na tinuruan mo ang puso ko na umibig na tunay.
You were there. For 45 minutes you were there. And then the lights went down. And it was time to go. An abrupt goodbye. It was sad, and worrying because someone’s life was on the line. Thank God, as of last night, text messages were saying that Ely had been in a stable condition. (and it was amazing how everyone really prayed for that minute when the organizers asked everyone to offer a prayer for Ely). Sad…but again, it’s a matter of perspective. Still, that was 45 minutes of magic. An offering of music that spoke to everyone in an indescribable way. Music that cuts through age and socio-economic class. Sincerely, the people there was a microcosm of the Philippine society. Everyone from the cono to the jolog spectrum had been represented. Probably if the Eheads would ask for a rally, just imagine the crowd they could draw. Unbelievable charisma. Such honest words. Such piercing lyrics that never pretended to be anything other than what they really say. Not to sound blasphemous, but they are the Buddha of Philippine music. Each song has an undeniable piece of wisdom to impart. Yeah yeah, some lines could be taken as bullcrap (a part of me cringes at that blasphemy), but it’s the kind of bullcrap that stops you off your tracks and makes you go and think…Oo nga ano.
Seeing them up there made me think. I want to be an Eraserhead. No, not sing (heaven forbid) or play the drums, bass or guitar (although I tried to learn the guitar back in hs just so I could play their songs on Jingle). But be as great as them. Have passion for my craft. Speak to everyone, move them with my words, breach barriers, and stir people into believing that there will always be reason to scream at life like there’s no tomorrow.
Masdan mo aking mata, di mo ba nakikita?
Ako’y lumililipad at nasa alapaap na.
Gusto mo bang sumama?
Salamat, salamat Eheads.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Float like an ant on a leaf.
Today I will take the lead on my life.
I will call the shots.
And for this moment...I decide to float.
At least on that point, I decided.
But sincerely, this is just one of those days when I can't seem to make myself go forward. Must be the disappointments that just topped one over the other. Makes me want to ask: so what's the point?
But I know there is a reason why things happen. Or for my part, why they don't. And for this time why things just seem to be on a standstill.
So I choose to float.
From one perspective, it's like recklessly letting go. Or less profoundly, simply giving up.
From another perspective, it's like telling the universe: I'm all open. Take me wherever.
For this moment I will be an ant on a leaf. I will go where the stream brings me. Hold on to the corners lest my raft topple over. And if it does, so what. Who says ants can't breathe under water? Or who knows if I'll enjoy the swim? Or if the leaf with bring me over to yet another dry land, or a magical place where fairies will happily invite me to play with them.
The hope for magic shall keep me afloat.
I will call the shots.
And for this moment...I decide to float.
At least on that point, I decided.
But sincerely, this is just one of those days when I can't seem to make myself go forward. Must be the disappointments that just topped one over the other. Makes me want to ask: so what's the point?
But I know there is a reason why things happen. Or for my part, why they don't. And for this time why things just seem to be on a standstill.
So I choose to float.
From one perspective, it's like recklessly letting go. Or less profoundly, simply giving up.
From another perspective, it's like telling the universe: I'm all open. Take me wherever.
For this moment I will be an ant on a leaf. I will go where the stream brings me. Hold on to the corners lest my raft topple over. And if it does, so what. Who says ants can't breathe under water? Or who knows if I'll enjoy the swim? Or if the leaf with bring me over to yet another dry land, or a magical place where fairies will happily invite me to play with them.
The hope for magic shall keep me afloat.
Saturday, July 05, 2008
On happiness and weekdays
I've long been telling myself that happiness shouldn't wait for weekends.
But waiting for Friday night to suddenly feel elated and get myself to feel excited for yet another day seems to be a weekend thing. Or at least getting out of bed without feeling like the sheets are holding me down is.
But this week was special.
No special occasion. But I've been out on dinners with friends, meeting up with special people almost every other night. I have nothing profound to say. I know no other witty way of saying this. But the wonderful learning for this week is: weekdays...better put: work-weeks can be happy.
I am blogging this to remind myself of this feeling when pitch season comes :) I am happy. I will remember this feeling even when I don't feel like it, and the universe will lead me to this blog post when my soul needs to recharge.
Tomorrow is a saturday. But I will have to come to Makati to work. But not even the rains nor the back-to-back fgd sessions can dampen my mood. I am happy.
Reiki thoughts from eca:
Just for today I will trust.
Bo Sanchez's prayer: (one of the many probably :)
Lord let me be a blessing to others.
Connect? I can't be a happy friend, if I'm not happy. Basic yun e, you can't give what you don't have. So I make a conscious effort to keep my happy reserves on high.
I came back to my table at the sight of 4 happy dvd's from Lilit. (that plus 2 others Mark gave me this morning!) I hate watching movies with sad endings (not that I hate them, at some point they are cathartic. But I'd rather get enlightenment with a laugh than with a heavy heart). Not only because there are far too many things to be sad about already (need I go past page1 of the newspaper?) and I believe that watching movies should at least remove one from reality and offer comfort in the thought that if that happy ending happened in reel life, then maybe it could translate to real life--in one way or another. (well, the writer ought to have had some happy event in his/her life to have based beautiful moments on right? nobody could ever be so da** creative as to make something so happy up without having had even a bit of joy in his/her life. )
...I digress...I don't like sad movies because...well to be more positive, I just like happy movies more. Because I'd like to remind myself constantly that life is happy.
It's like research. It's easier to make a decision with complete (or as near to complete) information. Choosing to be happy becomes a lot easier when I fill my head with fun things. Things that make me believe in the goodness of people over and over again. Happy stuff that make me believe that crappy things happen for a reason; that the best things in life are those that we already have; that life shouldn't be hard work; that purpose can bring the fun back to work; that love lives; that peace is possible; that all things panget come to pass; that God believes in us. That family and friends are...like eraserheads songs--you'll never forget their words, you will always have fun hearing them, you can sing all you want, misstep and miss the right tune and not be judged, and no matter how long the time may have passed between you, they will always bring you joy.
Happy movies. Happy life.
But waiting for Friday night to suddenly feel elated and get myself to feel excited for yet another day seems to be a weekend thing. Or at least getting out of bed without feeling like the sheets are holding me down is.
But this week was special.
No special occasion. But I've been out on dinners with friends, meeting up with special people almost every other night. I have nothing profound to say. I know no other witty way of saying this. But the wonderful learning for this week is: weekdays...better put: work-weeks can be happy.
I am blogging this to remind myself of this feeling when pitch season comes :) I am happy. I will remember this feeling even when I don't feel like it, and the universe will lead me to this blog post when my soul needs to recharge.
Tomorrow is a saturday. But I will have to come to Makati to work. But not even the rains nor the back-to-back fgd sessions can dampen my mood. I am happy.
Reiki thoughts from eca:
Just for today I will trust.
Bo Sanchez's prayer: (one of the many probably :)
Lord let me be a blessing to others.
Connect? I can't be a happy friend, if I'm not happy. Basic yun e, you can't give what you don't have. So I make a conscious effort to keep my happy reserves on high.
I came back to my table at the sight of 4 happy dvd's from Lilit. (that plus 2 others Mark gave me this morning!) I hate watching movies with sad endings (not that I hate them, at some point they are cathartic. But I'd rather get enlightenment with a laugh than with a heavy heart). Not only because there are far too many things to be sad about already (need I go past page1 of the newspaper?) and I believe that watching movies should at least remove one from reality and offer comfort in the thought that if that happy ending happened in reel life, then maybe it could translate to real life--in one way or another. (well, the writer ought to have had some happy event in his/her life to have based beautiful moments on right? nobody could ever be so da** creative as to make something so happy up without having had even a bit of joy in his/her life. )
...I digress...I don't like sad movies because...well to be more positive, I just like happy movies more. Because I'd like to remind myself constantly that life is happy.
It's like research. It's easier to make a decision with complete (or as near to complete) information. Choosing to be happy becomes a lot easier when I fill my head with fun things. Things that make me believe in the goodness of people over and over again. Happy stuff that make me believe that crappy things happen for a reason; that the best things in life are those that we already have; that life shouldn't be hard work; that purpose can bring the fun back to work; that love lives; that peace is possible; that all things panget come to pass; that God believes in us. That family and friends are...like eraserheads songs--you'll never forget their words, you will always have fun hearing them, you can sing all you want, misstep and miss the right tune and not be judged, and no matter how long the time may have passed between you, they will always bring you joy.
Happy movies. Happy life.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Breathe
Instead of blowing off some steam, I took a deep breath, counted from 1 to 10 ala Enteng Kabisote (albeit in my head) and refused to snip a few minutes off my lifespan due to unnecessary anxiety.
Note from last night's prayer meeting: He who angers you, controls you.
spoken like a true jedi.
Yoda in my mind.
Note from last night's prayer meeting: He who angers you, controls you.
spoken like a true jedi.
Yoda in my mind.
Thursday, June 05, 2008
Joy Begets Joy
I've lost count of the number of days. But lately, I've been feeling happy. I hate to say this, but I think the number of OT hours seems to be inversely proportional to the amount of joy. But wait, said the mouse (ika nga ni maui) OT din naman kami ngayon, pero hmmm, i feel, happy.
Must be because of the joy refills I've been having for the past few weeks. HS barkada , sila Maui't Eca, si Regi, ang constant date with la familia. Kahit dito sa office, masaya mga tao e, kahit OT. And nope, I'm not rationalizing the late nights. May ligaya talaga. Of course if I had it my way it would have been much better if we were spending our quality time at Gweilo's (oo, kahit chicharong bulaklak, mani at mainit na tubig ang inaatupag ko) rather than working on JO's. Pero...totoo pala yung sinasabi nilang choose to be happy. Syempre may bumps along the road, pwede ba namang wala. Pero exciting naman ang byahe.
Random thoughts: Reiki, the secret, bo sanchez, alvaro del portillo.
Admittedly, ang hirap pa rin hilahin ang sarili mula sa kama tuwing umaga. Ang sarap lang matulog e. Pero lately, mas masarap ang life.
Must be because of the joy refills I've been having for the past few weeks. HS barkada , sila Maui't Eca, si Regi, ang constant date with la familia. Kahit dito sa office, masaya mga tao e, kahit OT. And nope, I'm not rationalizing the late nights. May ligaya talaga. Of course if I had it my way it would have been much better if we were spending our quality time at Gweilo's (oo, kahit chicharong bulaklak, mani at mainit na tubig ang inaatupag ko) rather than working on JO's. Pero...totoo pala yung sinasabi nilang choose to be happy. Syempre may bumps along the road, pwede ba namang wala. Pero exciting naman ang byahe.
Random thoughts: Reiki, the secret, bo sanchez, alvaro del portillo.
Admittedly, ang hirap pa rin hilahin ang sarili mula sa kama tuwing umaga. Ang sarap lang matulog e. Pero lately, mas masarap ang life.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Paging Mr.Wonka
If you're out there, can we talk?
I know some people hate it when bloggers just post song lyrics and that's it. But, heck, it's a nice song, and the lyrics are worth, if not blogging about, at the very least glossing over.
Must've been so easy for a man who lived in a chocolate factory to say such sweet words. When I get married, I'd like this to be the wedding march. Not to say that true love and all those supposedly nice things about wedded life is of pure imagination, but I guess it's...a nice reminder. That when things could get rough, you could always rely on pure imagination to make things better; or hopefully, have enough memories to back up the imagined thoughts to spin you back to the good life.
It's too late in the day to be talking about marriage.
It's not even my intention to be writing about it.
I. I. I don't know. I just wish Willy Wonka's a real person and that I could talk to him. Ask for some formula on how to liven up and summon what he calls pure imagination. Lately, lately mine's been caged. Not exactly, more like...uncooperative.
So Mr. Wonka, if you're out there, usap naman tayo. Bring some chocolates too, please.
Some questions to ask:
a. With all that chocolate, how come you don't get fat?
b. Paradise, simply look around and view it--please expound.
c. Change the world, there is nothing to it?--again, please expound.
Yeah, yeah I know there are tons of reaction paper answers out there. But really Mr. Wonka, you make it sound so...real. Like you meant every word and that you know what you're talking about. Well, after all, you do have a chocolate factory. You've done your share of world-changing. So sans the chocolate factory, what else/ how'd you do it?
I'm hungry. Goodnight.
thanks,
cey
====
Willy Wonka:
[Spoken]
Hold your breath
Make a wish
Count to three
[Sung]
Come with me
And you'll be
In a world of
Pure imagination
Take a look
And you'll see
Into your imagination
We'll begin
With a spin
Traveling in
The world of my creation
What we'll see
Will defy
Explanation
If you want to view paradise
Simply look around and view it
Anything you want to, do it
Wanta change the world?
There's nothing
To it
There is no
Life I know
To compare with
Pure imagination
Living there
You'll be free
If you truly wish to be
If you want to view paradise
Simply look around and view it
Anything you want to, do it
Wanta change the world?
There's nothing
To it
There is no
Life I know
To compare with
Pure imagination
Living there
You'll be free
If you truly
Wish to be
I know some people hate it when bloggers just post song lyrics and that's it. But, heck, it's a nice song, and the lyrics are worth, if not blogging about, at the very least glossing over.
Must've been so easy for a man who lived in a chocolate factory to say such sweet words. When I get married, I'd like this to be the wedding march. Not to say that true love and all those supposedly nice things about wedded life is of pure imagination, but I guess it's...a nice reminder. That when things could get rough, you could always rely on pure imagination to make things better; or hopefully, have enough memories to back up the imagined thoughts to spin you back to the good life.
It's too late in the day to be talking about marriage.
It's not even my intention to be writing about it.
I. I. I don't know. I just wish Willy Wonka's a real person and that I could talk to him. Ask for some formula on how to liven up and summon what he calls pure imagination. Lately, lately mine's been caged. Not exactly, more like...uncooperative.
So Mr. Wonka, if you're out there, usap naman tayo. Bring some chocolates too, please.
Some questions to ask:
a. With all that chocolate, how come you don't get fat?
b. Paradise, simply look around and view it--please expound.
c. Change the world, there is nothing to it?--again, please expound.
Yeah, yeah I know there are tons of reaction paper answers out there. But really Mr. Wonka, you make it sound so...real. Like you meant every word and that you know what you're talking about. Well, after all, you do have a chocolate factory. You've done your share of world-changing. So sans the chocolate factory, what else/ how'd you do it?
I'm hungry. Goodnight.
thanks,
cey
====
Willy Wonka:
[Spoken]
Hold your breath
Make a wish
Count to three
[Sung]
Come with me
And you'll be
In a world of
Pure imagination
Take a look
And you'll see
Into your imagination
We'll begin
With a spin
Traveling in
The world of my creation
What we'll see
Will defy
Explanation
If you want to view paradise
Simply look around and view it
Anything you want to, do it
Wanta change the world?
There's nothing
To it
There is no
Life I know
To compare with
Pure imagination
Living there
You'll be free
If you truly wish to be
If you want to view paradise
Simply look around and view it
Anything you want to, do it
Wanta change the world?
There's nothing
To it
There is no
Life I know
To compare with
Pure imagination
Living there
You'll be free
If you truly
Wish to be
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Risotto rocks.
Tonight I had a date with myself.
After a long week (not exactly hard, the other weeks were relatively harder, but this one felt long probably because of the residual tiredness), I treated myself to risotto. Kuripot akong tao, pero ang pagkain…ang tanging bisyo ko. Sigh. I guess it’s something at par with travel. You don’t exactly end up with something tangible (hopefully, nothing around the belly area) but you experience something almost…for lack of a non-baduy term…magical. Something which fortunately or unfortunately you alone can truly enjoy in the fullest sense. It’s yours to cherish and reminisce over for only you care how many times.
And as I sat there, we talked. (ok, that sounded weird) in a less weird sense, I had a moment of introspection. And the first question that popped up was: What’s important for you? Well, that was the second question. The fist question was: Ok ka lang?
Truth is, I’m fine. Seriously. But I guess I can’t help but sometimes feel frustrated with how I’m faring. Sometimes I can’t help but think if I’m doing things right. If I’m doing them well enough. Am I in the right place? Is this the best I could give?
No, no, I’m not in the “should-I-shift-to-a-different-industry” mode. Neither am I in a ‘is it time to leave LB’ mode. I’m just in the ‘let’s assess how you’re doing’ mode. I’ve always been a grade conscious kid. And probably one of the greatest reasons I’m thankful for no longer being in school is the absence of report cards or class cards. But the thing is, it’s not something you just shake off. Apparently, the report cards are still there, but now I give myself the grade. 1 being the highest in the happiness chart.
As I sipped my cup of hot water. (yes, I’m such a lola) and stared at Venice painted on the wall before me, the question kept ringing in my head, “So what’s important to you?” I guess it’s because it’s undoubtedly connected to the more important question: What makes you happy?
But after a while, I no longer cared to enumerate the things that were supposed to make me happy. Those stuff that were supposed to define me. I just sat there eating my risotto, letting the flavors blend in my tongue; enjoying the texture of the grains, taking-in as much wonder in a spoonful as I possibly could, as I imagined the waters of the Grand Canal stir to life. And right then I knew I was happy.
I got the bill. Said thank you to the waiter, and rushed off to meet Robby and RJ at Pancake House. (and no, I no longer had dessert ☺)
After a long week (not exactly hard, the other weeks were relatively harder, but this one felt long probably because of the residual tiredness), I treated myself to risotto. Kuripot akong tao, pero ang pagkain…ang tanging bisyo ko. Sigh. I guess it’s something at par with travel. You don’t exactly end up with something tangible (hopefully, nothing around the belly area) but you experience something almost…for lack of a non-baduy term…magical. Something which fortunately or unfortunately you alone can truly enjoy in the fullest sense. It’s yours to cherish and reminisce over for only you care how many times.
And as I sat there, we talked. (ok, that sounded weird) in a less weird sense, I had a moment of introspection. And the first question that popped up was: What’s important for you? Well, that was the second question. The fist question was: Ok ka lang?
Truth is, I’m fine. Seriously. But I guess I can’t help but sometimes feel frustrated with how I’m faring. Sometimes I can’t help but think if I’m doing things right. If I’m doing them well enough. Am I in the right place? Is this the best I could give?
No, no, I’m not in the “should-I-shift-to-a-different-industry” mode. Neither am I in a ‘is it time to leave LB’ mode. I’m just in the ‘let’s assess how you’re doing’ mode. I’ve always been a grade conscious kid. And probably one of the greatest reasons I’m thankful for no longer being in school is the absence of report cards or class cards. But the thing is, it’s not something you just shake off. Apparently, the report cards are still there, but now I give myself the grade. 1 being the highest in the happiness chart.
As I sipped my cup of hot water. (yes, I’m such a lola) and stared at Venice painted on the wall before me, the question kept ringing in my head, “So what’s important to you?” I guess it’s because it’s undoubtedly connected to the more important question: What makes you happy?
But after a while, I no longer cared to enumerate the things that were supposed to make me happy. Those stuff that were supposed to define me. I just sat there eating my risotto, letting the flavors blend in my tongue; enjoying the texture of the grains, taking-in as much wonder in a spoonful as I possibly could, as I imagined the waters of the Grand Canal stir to life. And right then I knew I was happy.
I got the bill. Said thank you to the waiter, and rushed off to meet Robby and RJ at Pancake House. (and no, I no longer had dessert ☺)
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