And The Dawn Breaks For Yet Another Day

I'm partly glad, I don't have the same readership as before, as this place is akin to a rudderless ship. Desolate, empty, a ghost floating aimlessly on the currents of time.

I used to write with a vengeance. Now it just feels pathetic most of the time, trying to reach for meaning and eloquence and not getting either. I can't write about anything right now, the exercise in any subject feels - contrived.

All I'm doing right now is passing time and I am apologizing for cluttering the web with some more unhelpful garbage.
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You're Usually Handed A Fork When You Need A Spoon

Here I am again, racking my brain about, trying to find something worthwhile to write. As is usual I am failing miserably. Hindsight, that old soul wagging a finger at us saying "I told you so" is such a pervasive influence on me now that I'm stuck in a rut most of the time, second guessing myself about each decision I'd have to take that it just makes everything all the more confusing. I've found this to be the bane of my existence, this freezing and choking on the verge of good things to come.

I had done more than half a dozen restarts on this blog hoping to recapture the clarity I felt when I wrote before, but I'm still unable to find meaning or direction in what I wanted to do. My life is collapsing around me, like ice shelves. Falling into the sea as they melt under an unending assault from the sun. Yet writing holds no rope or hope of catharsis, love is stripped bare of all its assumptions ; strong yet inexplicably unhelpful to my further despair. All the ghosts of past lives are walking in the living room, having gotten free of the closet - chatting with the spirits of the present. But none go out the door so I can grieve and rest.

I can't find my muse. Maybe I've been trying too hard. And as they say, you're given a spoon. When all you needed was a fork.

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Philippines hit for 'hiding' poor at prestige event

Philippines hit for 'hiding' poor at prestige event

Potemkin. Potemkin. Potemkin.

I actually had a little respect for Ricky Carandang, before all this, and I still do. After all he still tries to do his job, and that should not be easy - with the Chief being as insensitive as he is.

The deal here is that we Filipinos have voted in a President out of the sentiment of loss due to the death of "heroes". Utterly unprepared for, we rode on the wave of emotion again and found ourselves here. With an incompetent bench running a beat down country.

I wonder how my countrymen let our public servants get away with this. Outsourcing companies under foreign ownership sack for misses less than these and we elected all these clowns into office. This is the main reason why we are poor. Never mind the amount of children for now, that's an unharnessed wealth of resource somewhere along the line. We are poor because we are still enslaved, waiting for a messiah to set us free, and deliver a golden age. We have not outgrown four hundred years of Spanish rule, not yet.

Well we've been free for quite some time. Most of us just don't know it yet. And so, we fall prey over and over again. I keep wishing Marcos fought on, a couple of shots would have discouraged all of these vulture families that have become ascendant since they left. At least back then, we were not that poor.

Take Doubt Away

We've all dealt with doubts one way during the course of our lives. We've wondered about our decisions, pondered about our missteps, and spent ridiculously long hours fretting about regrets.

It won't change a thing. There is only one reality we have, and it is staring us/you in the face right now. This is the bull whose horns you need to grab; this is your sixty seconds, your seven minutes, your final chicane, your buzzer beater, your hail mary pass. This is yours.

Never mind the lack of a stadium, roaring crowds, cameras and lights. The pain will still be the same, and the joy still as sweet.

We go to join the battle, regardless of our state. Doubt, fear, feel. But never wave the white flag of surrender. Life is too short for cowardice.


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Stuck

I find myself yet again, locked in the embrace of one of civilized society's wickedly beautiful daughters - the traffic jam.

Modern consumerism and gluttony at its human best. An endless, undulating metal beast of gaudy colors and sparkling lights. A cacophony of sounds from engines, exhaust pipes and radio speakers.

The beast devours the grains of sands that constitute our lives, poisons the air, eats the resources of our mother earth and feeds the greedy all at the same time.

I want to get out of this. I want to be free of this. I want a quiet life.
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Get Light-er

My best friend emailed me earlier, and gave me a start. I was playing around with a story and she told me to keep it "light". There has been so much swirling around the past two years that kept me on the edge most days. I'd say I'm happier, but with that joy comes the fear that I'd fall short of my responsibilities.

Then there is all of that still remains unresolved. I'm tired and after all that am still on uneven ground. I'm scared. But maybe she said the right thing. With life as short as it is, maybe - I should keep it light.
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