in-between holiday thoughts

it was windy today.
it was warmer than the past few days.
the sun was out. and it was not.

the snow is gone. 
the ice is gone. 

they are gone. 

im at home. 
i guess this is what it would be like if i were to live on my own. myself. the place. my camera. echo. stuff. oh but i would definitely have a dog. definitely. 
its kind of lonely. and scary. i have too much time to myself. when i have this much time on my hands, i start to think. and when my mind starts going, its kind of scary. 

theres this word that people throw around a lot lately. "fail." at one point tonight i wondered if i am failing at life. 
there is a list of things that remind me of how fortunate i am. the fact the i showered with hot water this morning. the fact that i had food to eat. the fact that i was able to drive to church. the fact that i was able to go to church. the fact that i am typing this right now. the fact that i am also on the phone with someone i love. the fact that i know ill have a blanket to keep me warm tonight. the fact that i have a job to go tomorrow. 
and thats only bit and pieces of today. 

but what about the other things i dont have or havent done. my dream of going back home to visit. my dream to go to korea. my dream to go to japan. my dream to take pictures of everything, everywhere. my dream to keep writing. my dream to get away. my dream to set myself free. my dream to live. my dream to be me. 

i guess it was the right time to ask myself if i was failing at life. i have reached the end of the paved road. 

people say that we need to learn how to be content. its very dangerous to stand between contentment and complacency. i dont ever want to mistake one for the other. i dont want to live someone elses life. i dont want to live someone elses dream. i dont want to just anything just because its the thing to do. 
i dont want to exist.
i want to live.

it is only when i have failed to do so that i will say that i have failed at life. 

ill keep you posted.

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day two of weekend snowstormsometimes i tell my friends that some movies make me cry. they ask which, i answer and sometimes they laugh, they agree, or they ask me why.

when was the last time you cried
when was the last time you cried because you were sad, your heart was hurting
when was the last time you cried because you were lonely as you tried to find someone in a crowded room
when was the last time you cried because you were angry, your face is so red from screaming 
when was the last time you cried because you were so touched by the words youre reading
when was the last time you cried because you were so happy, you couldnt even say a thing
when was the last time you cried because you were so entertained by the memories youre recalling

dont forget
always remember
the moments when you cried
the reasons why you cried
the people who watched you cry
the people who saw you cry
you are who you are because of these

always remember that other people cry
remember why they cried
you dont have to hurt to learn.

dont be afraid to cry. 
tears are just emotions that overflow from your heart out through your eyes. 
for people to see and to show that we are all human.

i pressed play and this is what i heard.
24 oceans; 24 skies; 24 failures; 24tries
24 find me; in 24th place; 24 drop outs; at the end of the day
life is not what i thought it was 24 hours ago
still im singing spirit take me up in arms with you
and im not who i thought i was 24 hours ago
i want to see miracles, see the world change
wrestles the angel, for more than a name
for more than a feeling
for more than a cause
-switchfoot; twenty four

if only

first off, no photo today. i have one in mind to put in but i just cant be bothered right now.
i hear people say, " im dog tired " or something similar to that. i always wonder where that expression came from. not ALL dogs have a hard life. 

picture a house pet. a dog. it could be anything. a big dog or a small dog. a fluffy dog or a short-haired dog. just picture a pet dog who is loved so dearly by its owner. 
sure the owner may leave during the day to go to work. but it still gets fed. it still gets washed. it still gets it shots. it still gets toys. and most of all, it still get attention. that doesnt sound so tiring to me. 

at least it gets fed every day.
at least its health is taken care of.
at least it gets fun things to play with.
at least it gets attention from the owner. 

a pet dog gets to go on its routine walks with its owner.
a pet dog might even have its photo with its owner.
a pet dog is guaranteed to see the face of its owner everyday.

i dont know where im going with this anymore but all i know is,
some days are good days 
and some days are not

some days you see nice people on the street
some days you dont. 

i do

im going to be totally honest.

i judge books by their covers. 
literally and figuratively. 

whenever im in a bookstore or library and i dont have a particular book in mind, i select the books i pull from the shelves by how attractive their spine is.
it may the the colour, the size or the words that attract me but i leave everything to the first impression that the book gives me. 

isnt it much like how life is in general. 
people work so hard to make a good first impression on people the want to, well, impress. 
you would never look gross and sloppy to a job interview or a first date or a big meeting or first time meeting the parents or whatever else matters to you. 

i dont believe in love at first sight. 
thats just stupid.
but i do believe in LIKE at first sight. 
theres a big difference. 
people who say that they dont judge people by the way they look are just plain phony.

seriously, when youre walking down the street and you pass by a complete stranger, do you automatically think, " oh my gosh, that guy has such a great personality. " or, " oh man, check out the personality in that one. " 
you look at the smile, the eyes, the clothes, the shoes, the ring finger, whatever. 
unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, humans do not have the power to decipher a human being in mere minutes no matter how hard the look into the " window to the soul. "

i look and if like what i see i open the book . 
i might get to the not so attractive books later on when i find that the ones ive picked up are trash. 
but if you really think about it, things are attractive to you for a reason.
if it doesnt attract you at first glance, and still you try to persue it, it just doesnt stay interesting enough. 

can i help you?
check this guy out. maybe hes judging me by my cover.


sometimes i really wish that i could just disappear. 
or at least leave and go to a place where no one could find me. 

this will be the longest 5 hours of my life. 

constantly rare

all nighter
today. i saw the moon, so red, so close. i saw the rising of the sun. i drove along empty streets with my headlights on. i walked into a quiet office. i saw the setting of the sun. 

to me nowadays, these events are rare. i think thats why it woke up some part in me. 

there are things in the world that are constant. 
the sun will always rise
a new day will always come
the sun will always set
the darkness will always fall
the seasons will always change
the leaves, rain, snow 
they will always fall
but there is always something about these events that excites me. the movement of the earth around the sun and how it casts different shadows, paints different colours and causes for things to fall on the ground will always amaze me. 
but what excites me more is the promise of another after today. the anticipation. things happen while i wait. rare conversations. rare sightings. rare images. im not a very patient person. but SOMETIMES when i do wait. these rare events make it worth it. 

unlikely teachers

i knew how to read and write before i started school. i remember reading "run, sally, run" (or some other title similar to that) with my grandmother. i remember handing my mom sheets of paper on which i had documented the events of my day. i wasnt (and still am not) a genius or anything like that. what drove me to develop these skills are of an entirely different sort. 
i was too young to remember minor details about the time when i started to learn how to read. what i do remember is that i didnt read because i liked it. i didnt read because i wanted to know what happened when sally ran. nor did i care that spot ran after sally. i was more concerned if i was pronouncing the words right or if i was reading fast enough or if i was taking my breaths at the right time. i was so afraid of the hand that would punish me if i did anything wrong. i wasnt even three yet. 
the hand of consequence was not the only thing i feared. i also feared one particular nanny i had. until today, i still dont understand what her deal was. she was really nice to me in front of my parents but once they turn their backs on us, she makes a complete 180. i vividly remember being so afraid of being left alone with her. i was convinced that she would kill me one day. i would always cry before my parents left for work. i remember in great detail the disgusting things she would do im my home while my parents were away. she acted like she owned both the house and me. i tried telling my parents once but it didnt come out right. i didnt know what to say. i tried calling my mom at work but i was too hysterical to make any sense. so one day, i tried writing things down as they were happening. i knew what the letters were but i didnt know how to spell. i didnt know the first thing about constructing sentences either. but those were the least of my worries. ididntcarethateverythingthatiwrotelookedsomethinglikethis. i just had to let my mom know what was going on when she wasnt around. a few days later, i woke up and the nanny was no where to be found. 
this was not the end of my struggle. i dont know when it was but there was a point in my life when i was was extremely paranoid. i was afraid of EVERYTHING. i was afraid that when i spilt my moms eye drops on the carpet it would grow an eye. i was afraid that my stomach would stick together when i swallowed my gum by accident. i was afraid that ants would get in my "pee-pee" when i was sleeping. EVERYTHING and ANYTHING. i called my mom every time i would have a panic attack about one of my fears. at the rate it was going, she might as well stayed with me on the phone the whole day. when she finally had enough of my paranoia, she told me to just write things down and she would read it when she got home and tell me if i should be worried or not. i didnt agree. that was way too long of a wait. but she told me that if i called he at work again for one of my attacks, she would never, EVER, pick-up the phone again. so i started writing again.
fear and paranoia taught me how to read and write. 

define this.

this is where i live.

i like it here. and i dont.
either way
this is where i live.

i didnt grow up here. 
when im asked "so where did you grow up?"
i always automatically say, "philippines."
but sometimes, i doubt the truth in that.

technically, i really did grow up there. i didnt leave the country until a few days after my sixteenth birthday. but isnt that only one definition of "growing up"? 
i remember being so dependent, clueless, and careless. i just didnt care enough to know whats what because i knew that someone would always be there to look after me, take care of me, save me. 
i always did things depending on my mood. i never tried hard enough for anything because i never saw a point in trying because i knew i would get whatever i wanted, one way or another. 
but then i moved. 
with 16 years of my life tucked away in 2 boxes and 1 backpack, i was transplanted from a familiar place of ease and comfort to a place halfway around the world filled with strangers and struggles. i had to try to be comfortable around strangers. i had to learn how to understand the way the words rapidly fire out of their mouths. i had to relearn how to make friends. i had to learn how to live with "family." strangers.
but worst of all, i had to learn how to do things, many things, on my own. 
i had to learn how to entertain myself during weekends when i didnt have my usual friend to hang out with anymore. i had to learn how to navigate around the unfamiliar streets and hallways just to be where im supposed to be. i had to learn how to eat by myself. i had to learn how to walk by myself. i had to learn how to sit in class by myself. i had to learn how to figure things out on my own. 
it was through all of these that i became the person i am today. it was through all of these that i look the way that i do today. i was through all of these things that gained the friends i have today. i was through all these things that i learned how to become a real family member, even to those who i lived with in my sixteen years "back home."
so when i really think about it, or if i feel like overanalyzing the question just to be a pain in the ass, 
did i grow up here, 
or there?

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im going to be totally honest. i judge books by their covers.  literally and figuratively.  whenever im in a bookstore or library and i dont...

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