Posts Tagged With: world

You’re like nothing else to me but a shipwreck that’s full of mystery… the one that is quite you who’s been brought to me by the winds, by the waters, by the flames. We’re on the same ground now. We’re under constant storms… the one that is quite us who are both haunted by love that has not been chanted.

You are such the most symbolic form of sweetness. Most of them would think that I am composed of the bitter sands stirred in saltwater which when tasted, sour; yet you melted that belief. I could feel through you the shivers that make me feel comfortable even in the darkest hours. I could see a thousand colors in the dash of your existence. I could hear the painful music that would make me sway and forget all the hatred I have for myself. The world seems so alive while the other side is dead – but is striving to survive.

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Broken-hearted ako.

…kasi hindi nagkatuluyan ang mga karakter na binuhay ko sa ginagawa kong kwento.

Nakakaasar dahil sabi ko nga, “The process is self-consuming… dahil bago pa man mabigyan ng kulay ang mundo niyo, napaglalaruan muna ang damdamin naming manunulat.”

Ang isang manunulat ay guguhit ng istorya na malapit sa puso niya. Kasabay nito ay ang pagbibigay ng sarili sa mundong siya mismo ang lumikha. May mga kabanatang dadalhin ang mga mambabasa, tagapakinig, o manonood sa katumbas na pakiramdam kung paano nga ba ang umibig. Mayroon din namang kabanatang ipaparamdam sa kanila nang paulit-ulit ang sakit ng bawat pagkabigo. Higit sa lahat, bago ihain ang mga emosyong ito sa iba, nabugbog muna ng tamis at pait at pinaghalong timpla ang kung sino ba ang gumawa ng teksto. Sino ba ang unang nakaranas nito?

Akala ko noon ang pagsusulat ay napakalaya… tipong patuloy lang akong magbubukas ng pinto sa napakalawak kong imahinasyon na lalong nagpapaliit sa mundong ginagalawan ko. Ang pagsusulat pala ay isang sumpa. Kagaya ngayon, hindi ko sigurado kung may patutunguhan ba itong paglalahad ko sa kung paano binabago ng pagsusulat ang pananaw ko sa buhay. Saan ako dadalhin? Hindi ko alam.

Sa kabila ng napakaraming tanong sa aking isipan na hindi ko matuldukan, akin muling bubuuin ang mga pirasong kung saan-saan ko natatagpuan. Palagi ko pa rin tatanggapin ang mga bagong kwentong dapat maibahagi naman sa iba sa pamamagitan ng aking pagsasalarawan. Eh ano kung masaktan.

Eh ano naman kung hindi pala tayo.

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Hanggang Sa Muli

Ito na marahil ang unang post na ginamitan ko ng diskursong Tagalog; ngunit hindi ito ang nag-iisang post na gagamitan ko ng puso. Gusto kong maiba naman ang atakeng aking gagamitin upang maipahayag ang bugso ng aking damdamin. Sumusulat tayo hindi dahil inutos, hindi dahil pinilit, at higit sa lahat… hindi dahil upang magmalaki.

Ako ay isang manunulat hindi lamang dahil ito ang napili kong trabaho, kundi dahil ito ang aking buhay.

Naaalala ko pa ang mga lumipas na taon kung kailan ko ginugol ang aking kabataan bilang isang indibidwal na sanay na mag-isa at nabubuhay nang hindi humihingi ng kahit anong panahon mula sa kanyang mga kasama. Masaya ako dahil akala ko ay malaya ako sa ganoong sistema. Sa pagdaan ng ilan pang mga kabanata, aking napagtanto na may kulang pala. Bagamat hindi sa aking pagkatao, may kulang pala.

Ano ba ang kulang? Gaano ito katimbang upang magdulot ng epekto sa akin? Hindi ko kayang sagutin. Ako ay namamangha sa kung paano nga ba pinahihintulutan ng pagkakataon ang bawat pagbabagong maaaring maganap sa loob ng pahinang bumubuo sa nobelang alam kong akin.

Noon, sumusulat ako sapagkat kaya kong gumuhit ng sariling mundo. Ngayon, pakiramdam ko’y unti-unting nagbabalik ang bawat teksto na aking nailarawan. Mayroong parte ng aking pagkatao ang natatakot sa posibilidad na magkakatotoo ang bawat detalye. Labis na nakabibighani ang pagsasakatuparan ng pangarap na dati’y binibigkas lamang. Natatakot ako. Natatakot ako sapagkat hindi ko akalaing ang daigdig na pinaliit ng aking imahinasyon ay isang bulgar na pelikulang nagdidiiin sa bawat eksenang makatotohanan.

Magulo. Tulad ng aking kwarto kapag hell week, tulad ng aking buhok sa tugatog ng mahanging bundok, tulad ng aking malikot na pag-iisip. Maingay, tulad ng pagtibok ng aking puso sa tuwing maririnig ang yapak ng papalapit na banta sa aking propesyong napili. Malungkot, tulad ng pinaghalong init at lamig na patuloy na uusig sa aking konsensya kung ako ba ay nagkaroon ng silbi sa araw man o sa gabi. Mapanlinlang, tulad ng mga markang akala ko ay papasa dahil sa puyat at pagod na inabot. Mapanghusga, tulad ng bintang na ibabato habang patuloy kong tinatanong sa sarili, “Sapat ba ito?” Alam kong hindi. Hindi, kailanman, ako naging kontento.

Lahat na yata ng sakripisyo ay aking naranasan makarating lang sa inaasam na paraiso. Mabilis. Matagal. Madaming tukso. Ang paglalakbay pala na ito ay hango sa postura ng impyerno. “Sige, ituloy mo”, ang palagi kong sinasambit. Imbis na magsawa, kailangan kong masanay. Malupit ang hagupit ng bawat latigong katumbas ng pagkatalo. Mabangis ang mga naghihiyawang boses, nakabibinging katahimikan, at nagpupumiglas na kaluluwang nais kumawala sa rehas na nagkukulong sa kung anuman ang sigaw ng karakter na binuhay ng nag-aalab na apoy ng pakikidigma.

Malalim. Ang pinaghulugan ng aking ipinaglalaban, ang mga salitang akala mo hindi maiintindihan, ang pares ng matang nakikiusap sa paglabas ng katotohanan, ang sugat na dulot ng digmaan, ang hukay na nag-aabang. Isang maling galaw at “patay ka!”.

Mayroon pa ba akong dapat katakutan? Nasindak nang paulit-ulit, isang ritmong sumusunod sa musika ng daigdig. Mayroon pa ba akong dapat pagdudahan? Nasilaw sa makulay na palabas, isa palang pagtatanghal ng masasayang payasong sa likod ng entablado’y may mga luhang nakalulunod. Mayroon pa ba akong dapat sukuan? Nasaktan ng matatalim na sandatang ibinabato ng hindi naman lubusang kilala… sino ba sila? Ano ang ginagampanan ng mga elementong ito upang magpadala na lang ang sinuman sa agos ng walang patutunguhan? Hindi dapat. Hindi dapat sagutin ang mga tanong na wala namang kwenta – walang kwenta sapagkat nakasuot sila ng maskara. Hindi pala talaga ako nagtatanong kundi umiiwas. Duwag! Walang silbi ang umiwas sa responsibilidad na dapat ay pinagsisikapang tuparin.

Walang tigil akong pumipindot sa pagtipa ng aking keyboard dahil umaasa akong may mararating ang artikulong sinimulan kong kausapin. Ayaw nitong matapos. Ayaw ko rin, ngunit kailangan na.

Kailangan ko ng bumangon mula sa lugmok na istilo ng pakikibaka. Hanggang dito na lang muna. Sana bukas ay may mapatunayan na.

Hanggang sa muli.

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miles away

There will be times when I’d rather stay awake during hours in between 10 p.m. to 5 a.m.

It is when almost everyone is sound asleep. It is when the surroundings is blatantly quiet. It is when I have nothing to blame but myself for letting the silence deafen my disturbed being. I cannot close my eyes for fear that I may miss something. I can neither feel the warmth nor coldness of the empty space building up inside of me.

What I am sure of is that, I will remember each single detail that has been happening between hours of 5:01 a.m to 9:59 p.m. when there’s nothing wrong but my perception of reality. I seem to live in a world where only myself can see. It is the moment of disillusionment that perhaps the people occupy the sensitivity of my thoughts but there’s only one thing that I am longing to be with – and this is definitely peace of mind.

Noisy. The flickering lights, the blurring shadows, the swaying curtains, the palpitating beats of whose heart, the imaginative knocks and footsteps… all so loud I am not able to notice that while I hear them, I lose the capacity to listen to my own needs and wants.

Truly, I soon realize that there will be deprived chances no matter how hard we try to get them. Maybe that’s why I don’t feel like putting pillows on my bed, I avoid cute pets, I doubt your sincerity, I won’t give a damn to your words, I pretend to be funny. Because it sucks to get attached to stuffs that will soon leave me and I call them stupid inside my head. Not admitting it is me who’s more than weird. I am an unfathomable, reckless piece of unlovable mystery.

Darling I get hurt, too; but I don’t expect you to understand somebody who does not even dare trying to confront herself. Please see to it that I am not the one who’s going to conform to your ideals. I am not even trying to put an interest seeking for ways to get close to your standards. Because I don’t impose rules which I cannot follow. By accident, too many times, I have spoken words I cannot swallow.

Days pass and the urge is becoming more irresistible. You don’t have to say it back. You don’t have to cast a promise. Free yourself. Stop. Stare. Smile.

We’ll go miles from here if we let go, still miles from here if we choose to stay.

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Killing the Messenger: As censorship increases worldwide, journalists are being attacked, kidnapped and even killed for exposing the truth.

http://www.aljazeera.com/programmes/specialseries/2014/07/killing-messenger-201478101852958418.html

Murder is the leading cause of work-related deaths for journalists as censorship increases worldwide. Journalists have been killed, attacked, kidnapped, or forced into exile because of their coverage of war, crime and corruption.

In 2006, UN resolution 1738, which demanded greater safety for journalists in conflict areas, was passed. Since then, over 600 news media workers have been killed, while more have been imprisoned or disappeared while on the job. Countless others have been intimidated into self-censorship or have gone into exile.

Journalists reporting from Mexico, Russia and the conflict zones of Iraq, Afghanistan and Syria tell their personal stories of kidnapping, intimidation, and beatings. They have experienced the loss of colleagues in the field and have been close to death themselves.

Killing the Messenger  features exclusive, first-hand accounts of journalists who have faced dire consequences in their pursuit of the news.

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When Wounds Whirled Wisdom

Just, never get tired of trying. Positivity, persistence, and patience are what you need to keep on track. Don’t lose that sense of wonder you’ve been holding on for too long. You’ve not been this far to stop and acquire nothing. You might feel down for a while but that does not mean staying in the darkness. Another day will come and you will find new reasons to continue searching for the light. You will realize that everything pays off. Of course you wouldn’t like to harvest rotten fruits at the end of the season, would you?

So smile! Yes, you who’s reading this right now. Why should you?

Because you are wonderful…

for waking up this morning even if you feel like laying down all day

for pursuing the plans you’ve drafted the last time you feel excited

for beaming like how the sun shines to everyone on your way

for cheering up the vibes though you already feel exhausted

for staying in tune with the path that you have chosen

for striving despite the verdicts’ eyes on your acts

for struggling while heat seems so frozen

for risking across a myriad cracks

for fighting with all your heart

for trying with all your might

for breathing until tonight

 

Remember that while there are things which make you feel you’re not worthy enough, there also exist these bases which are going to support your claims come what may. Perhaps you will doubt yourself but there are proofs that exist to persist in believing that you actually can attain your goals. All you need is faith; for if you have it, the world will never be ceased to be amused by your masterpieces. Once you learn to accept yourself is the moment you discover a perspective that will open your eyes to possibilities. The worries and fears holding you back will no longer suffice. No harm will keep you from resisting a passionate urge expected to embark upon.

Every day is a new beginning. It empowers you to gain the strength that you need for you to be able to win over the treacherous beast within. Wake up your spirit and fall in love with your dreams all over again. Seek what makes you happy: then go for it. Make use of the lessons that the battle of life has taught you. Sustain the weapons for you must not lose. Give it all your best and leave the rest to Him.

Wounds are temporary yet wisdom remains beyond your capacity for ever. The pain will soon be over.

 

 

 

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What If Your Best Isn’t Good Enough

We all have that feeling of joys and of sorrows. These two are what basically consist our daily lives. It’s either we feel good or we feel bad about certain circumstances that may come our way. Days are hard-earned. Nights are sleepless. We sacrifice such chunks of comfort for the benefit of our larger aspirations.

At the end of every episode, rages another show in a series of memories that are supposed to teach us: Lessons… Lessons which are not similar to those that we learn from school wherein lectures are primarily given before the examination. In real life, we have to take the tests first, then lessons. We may eventually surpass ourselves.

Sentiments are everywhere located in each chapter of our own stories. Whether we like it or not, we are thrown here in this world to feel alive yet it is so paradoxical that there are times when the things which actually give us life are the same ones which nearly push us on the verge of giving up this battle called survival.

Have you experienced that moment when you seem to have done enough yet none of it will suffice the demands of the environment you are in? You try to search for anything to blame yet cannot find it because you think that I got this. You list down all the possible works you can do for hours, for days, for weeks, for months, and even for years to prepare for situations that perhaps bring you that rush of nervousness and excitement; but when time comes, that you almost had it all, the world is as if to slap right to your face the kind of mess that you have been. You will never be ready until you experience the conditions. A wild dimension is about to snatch you from those sweet tales into a tragic story of defeat.

What is wrong: to expect too much from yourself? to wait for something else to happen that is not meant for you? to assume success? Is it then alright to accuse yourself of being too much of a failure? One’s self who is nobody but a shadow. A shadow which is nothing but a mere existence of false hopes. -then you start to question the verity of life. You start to indulge your being into the darkness that leads no path.

 

When you try your best, but you don’t succeed
When you get what you want, but not what you need
When you feel so tired, but you can’t sleep
Stuck in reverse

– Fix You

 

Feel the wind all around
All the courage to be found
Who knows what’s out there
I know I’ll get there

– Still I Fly

 

If one thing I know, I’ll fall but I’ll grow
I’m walking down this road of mine, this road that I call home

– Am I Wrong

 

Now, here are songs you might like to listen to. Uplift the spirit that deserves no doubt, no insult, and no regret… for yourself is all that you have to stand up again. Yourself is all that you have to confront the challenges and beat them up- they may hurt you, cause you wounds, leave you scars; but they cannot suppress a spirit that stays faithful to its master.

What if your best isn’t good enough? is not a question but a threat to your character. You shall not be deceived by temporary knock down’s because the truth is, you can always get up. You can always fight back. You can always win in your own ways. Just by reaching your best shot, you had already aimed at victory. There’s no such thing as failing because you tried.

It is impossible for us to risk ourselves defending the ones we love, through terrifying attacks of courage and persistence, just for nothing. We are not here just for nothing. We are here to prove the worth we have been holding on for so long. We are here to claim the fact that we will carry on, no matter what.

Your best is more than enough.

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Dare to Exist

The world is dynamic. Its essence is life that is full of vitality, full of wonder, full of energizing elements constituting the verity of our very own existence. Perhaps one might deem the creation itself as problematic due to some uncertainties. Then, how are we supposed to understand things? Do we need to allot rigorous researches in order to support our claims? Can the contextualization of our experiences and conditions be served as evidences only to prove that we aren’t deceived by our beliefs? Of course we tend to speak and stand up for what we think is true… while others tend to tell lies in order to protect themselves from judgments.

As human beings, we are presented the choices. We are given the chance to decide for our own. The result depends upon the basis of analysis that we have considered to look through. What makes sense doesn’t always get picked. Sometimes, what humans yearn for are ignorant derivations from shallowness, leaving the actual necessity that is to be executed within a process.

Understanding does not primarily mean just gazing at the meaning, says one of the excerpts from a line among the texts. It simply states that “to understand” suggests that we take into consideration the holistic value of others and the associations of one another. It then implies that we shall not only judge according to what our eyes can merely see or what our ears can merely hear. We have to examine things beneath circumstances, beneath perspectives. We listen no matter how inaudible the rational noise is, no matter how soft it whispers.

Knowing grasps reality- that is knowledge. For without knowledge, no fair justice might be administered. Without knowledge, we let go of the opportunities that we once deserved. Without knowledge, we get caught by the dogmatic persistence that is not even from our own way of comprehension. We eventually lose ourselves, at least in that case.

“Being-there”, “in-one-another-ness”, “Being-alongside”, authenticity or inauthenticity, and “potentiality-for-Being” are some of the most striking words to symbolize an entity termed as Dasein wherein existential conditions are attended. Here comes the fortification of possibilities, the anticipation of what can be put into actualization. Its significance doesn’t only lie amongst the description of one character, but throughout the world. It somehow signifies the entirety of the components of the world- self, others, and the linkages that bond the interaction, discoveries, exploration, and a lot more variations that create interconnectedness between them.

The bottom line is, it doesn’t matter whether or not which is true and which is false according to what a person thinks over your own awareness. What truly brings you to the peak of knowledge is knowing what would you actually fight for, what you believe makes sense, what you believe is worth the wait, what you believe could possibly exist, without the fear of failures.

A thought piece, for example, dares to exist… fail now, try again. Nobody is certain.

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The Metamorphosis of Love

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Life is not a series of chances but a series of choices.

A heart usually portrays the essence of love, of Romanticism, of people’s involvement in a relationship that demands commitment, trust, and loyalty; but a heart might mean a different thing that tries to incorporate a wider and deeper understanding of how love actually exists in a person’s life- where happiness stays and grows from within. However, the butterflies signify metamorphosis- an agent of change that persists to survive in this world.

Just because you want it, doesn’t mean you can get it. Destiny is not carved in stone because it is something you have to create on your own. Beyond the freedom set upon the spark of divinity that’s given from the very start, you get a life… full of uncertainties, doubts, and risks. You endure a battle and insist to win for you think of the importance of the things you love is what truly matters. But, is it really worth the fight? Do you deserve to fall in love that depends from the intensity of the presence of others? Does reality have to seem so vague that you associate real joy from the attachment you get used to? Is it then fair to blame circumstances when you lose yourself while finding the significance outside of it?

Perfection is imaginable yet it is not possible. It cannot be achieved. It is so unfair to expect something that goes too high enough to disrupt your view of reality. You accept the love you think you deserve that you eventually fail to realize that what you’ve been seeking for the whole time is already in front of you waiting to be held on for so long. You miss the chances that are reserved for you while chasing for the ones you desperately hope for. You end up undecided, left out unfulfilled. Is that what is considered as happiness? Of course not. You commit mistakes just like anyone else. The bottom line is, it might be too late to catch up with failures. You learn to let go.

What you believe keeps you going, isn’t it? What you believe is what triggers you to remain intact with your goals in life. You often accompany it with the thought of being extremely in love with something else. So when it is gone, the happiness fades away. That is what happens in a heart that is filled with butterflies. There are things, there are people… that will come and leave. Some will stay and others are meant to go away. Permanence is rare. Definitely, there are things that are bound to visit you temporarily. There will be a moment in your life when your actions are transformed into regrets. It makes you unsatisfied. Will things ever be put in their proper places? Yes. You just have to explore a great sense of being alive and discover that happiness is not all about romantic love, or gifts, or committing to someone, or keeping a promise- but about the innovation and development you attain while enduring the pain you receive and being passionate about your principles no matter what, each day.

Happiness is a choice yet so difficult to stand by it. Love freely. Who cares to give it back?

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Faith that is Not Tested, is Not Faith At All

While the downpour of rain was heavy all day long last Saturday, I was able to grab my chance of clinging into my academic obligations. I did not fail, somehow, to comply with my to-do-list. Perhaps the weather was really gloomy and not everything inside our house had fallen in its proper place, I still tried to manage my schedule and my mood. That’s right; to manage myself and the actions I would take has always been necessary for a harmonious living- well, at least from my viewpoint.

Some readings I was trying to study that day is about the orientation towards being… something is about existentialism provided that the writer itself has this perspective saying Not that we believe that God does not exist, but we think that the problem of his existence is not the issue, and the other literary piece has been talking about this creatively ambiguous but witty format of what the persona aims to express; but justifiably, I got the gist of the articles I have read. Anyway, it’s all about how we’re to interpret the given symbolic entities which meanings invariably depend to our intellectual capacity and background. It’s up to me, actually, upon whose way of thinking I am made-up to affirm or deny, right?

We all know that in Philosophy, two major groups of people pave its path through the broadness and deepness of discussions- Christians and Atheists. I surely belong to the first one. I just can’t imagine how I was able to deal with the articles wherein atheistic viewpoints are technically considered. Each time I had to support my own ideology and never falter to what I have believed for more than a decade. I told myself that open-mindedness is not a bad thing at all. Essentially, it’s quite a brilliant means to transcend into reality without having to seem too arrogant, ignorant, conceited, and rude. Having an open mind to things doesn’t mean inability to decide for one’s self but maturity to cultivate the values that can eventually lead us to excellence and a better understanding of the world.

Last Friday night, when I am alone in our house and the storm was on its rage, I recorded my voice. This recording lasts exactly up to one minute as it plays. It is supposed to be an alarm which will of course motivate me to get up. Considering its inventive script and a bit proficient tone that speak in straight English, I honestly regarded this habit as some sort of fun. I’d have to adjust the volume to minimum so as not to frantically disturb others; though it’s fine if they’re interested in it.

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(Photo of me in Paoay Church, Ilocos Norte during our historical tour;

but Our Lady of the Atonement Cathedral is where I constantly go every Sunday)

Today is Sunday, the start of the week, when I’ve written this. I truly deem that waking up early contributes to man’s productivity and success. So it’s a deal for me to start a day or even a week right enough to make me feel so guilty if ever I do not keep hold of consistency. I am persistent about my dreams, and this blog of mine can attest to that.

Going to church becomes the fundamental system running throughout my character. I’m not the person whom anyone can convince not to go out for mass attendance, especially since when I have started my routine here in the City of Pines. It is a breath of fresh air, a lift of soul, a beat of heart, and clarity of mind- for me as a being. Tell-me-you-can’t-go-but-don’t-tell-me-I-can’t type of attitude is what I got.

Before I could stand under a shed to wait for PUJs, I passed through rustling winds and flooded streets; but still, I could feel the banality of what I am doing. Excitement is expected of me as I fulfill what I want, what I need. There’s this vehicle that stopped in front of me. An old man got off. He is familiar; I always see him on his way to church. He’s passionate about it and I can thoroughly confirm the verity of his faith. Perhaps he’s not too normal (I guess he’s ill due to age-related sickness) and I just can’t say what it is that bothers him. I just know he needs someone to accompany him whenever, wherever, because there’s no safe place nowadays.

Just like at that moment, he didn’t have an umbrella and the rain was pouring hard. It’s cold and I could see he’s tensed. Magsaysay PUJs passed but I am taking the Bonifacio route. So the man was. It’s as if he’s in a hurry not to get late for the mass (though it repeats hourly, in different languages). He’s about to get in a PUJ but its signboard said Magsaysay. God knows how I wanted to offer my umbrella to that man but there’s a bit of force that insisted not. But, when this driver saw the people waiting, he immediately changed his route. So an old couple, I, and the old devoted man, were able to take the ride. I felt an ease that we’re finally on our way to church.

Traffic was not too heavy maybe because it’s still early and the weather wasn’t too good. The PUJ stopped in front of the Cathedral and the vehicle was suddenly more than a half empty. As I crossed the road, I saw this familiar old man taking his steps towards the church. This time, I couldn’t let go of the chance that I might help him. I offered my umbrella and we both took some meters. All of a sudden, I remembered my grandfather. Is he doing fine in our home? Does he feel sick? Does anybody take good care of him? Does he miss me the way I do? Can he still endure and wait for me to get back? Tears watered my eyes but I couldn’t let it fall. For the first few times in months, I heard again the word “apo” (grandchild), with a different high impact melody in my ears. The old man was shivering and a strike of blame landed on me for not doing it so earlier. His age marked those slow footsteps and a notion of helplessness and uncertainty from the environment where he belongs; but I could perceive his hopefulness and it fueled me to keep going.

I thought, I just thought, I am very faithful and this is so exceptional about me. But no, I’m somewhat wrong. There are a lot more people like this man that is full of love for his devotion to God and passion for life. He might be alone at a sight, but inside he’s so full of faith that he couldn’t even think that nobody is there for him. His power of belief makes him stand, walk, and offer himself everyday that until now, he’s able to live. At that very moment of his tight grip (signaling a pinch of gratefulness that someone is confirmed to be there for him even at the slightest point of time), I felt so empowered.

Kindness is contagious. It comes from this man, not from me. I am merely one of the many noble instruments to make people be reminded that The Holy still exists and will always persevere because God doesn’t really leave. God is always here. God is always with us.

A lot of times go by that our faith is being tested without actually the recognition; it just happens. This story of mine for today is just one among the myriad instances that the power of love, hope, faith, and existence itself is realized. Each day can be a miracle, that we all breathe, that we’re all residents of Earth. We discover ourselves in every drop of a second and we explore our lives further not through our own but through our fellowmen.

As for me, I get inspired by you. Criticisms, adversity, loneliness, doubts, and emptiness get clearer every time. I am determined to face such struggles and fight for myself, fight for you, men of amazing faith; because you let me believe that I am not alone in this battle, that we can actually hold on to our beliefs, that we can actually carry on through our passion, that I naturally acquire this spark of love for humanity and that these testimonies trigger me to live. God is with us all the time at all places, in any condition. Impossible can be possible because we believe. God is whom we believe, that’s why we actually can.

Stronger, is how I call. Faith that is not tested, is not faith at all.

Categories: Daily Post, Inspire, Part of Me, Reflection | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

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