i am going home…
actually, i already arrived…so good to be back in manila after five days of wandering and wondering in the southernmost area of the archipelago…there were a lot places that fascinated me and each told me a story…i am amazed on how people managed to preserve the culture amidst urbanization…i am happily convinced that a laid back kind of life is still possible and this only requires me to be open and engaging…yet behind all these things, i am confident that i have with me happy memories…memories that will serve as my strength to move on again in the next journey…
HOME (by Daughtry)
I’m staring out into the night,
Trying to hide the pain.
I’m going to the place where love
And feeling good don’t ever cost a thing.
And the pain you feel’s a different kind of pain.
I’m going home,
Back to the place where I belong,
And where your love has always been enough for me.
I’m not running from.
No, I think you got me all wrong.
I don’t regret this life I chose for me.
But these places and these faces are getting old
So I’m going home.
Well I’m going home.
The miles are getting longer, it seems,
The closer I get to you.
I’ve not always been the best man or friend for you.
But your love, remains true.
And I don’t know why.
You always seem to give me another try.
So I’m going home,
Back to the place where I belong,
And where your love has always been enough for me.
I’m not running from.
No, I think you got me all wrong.
I don’t regret this life I chose for me.
But these places and these faces are getting old.
Be careful what you wish for,
‘Cause you just might get it all.
You just might get it all,
And then some you don’t want.
Be careful what you wish for,
‘Cause you just might get it all.
You just might get it all, yeah.
Oh, well I’m going home,
Back to the place where I belong,
And where your love has always been enough for me.
I’m not running from.
No, I think you got me all wrong.
I don’t regret this life I chose for me.
But these places and these faces are getting old.
I said these places and these faces are getting old.
So I’m going home.
I’m going home.
On Being A Transient
I have been living a transitory life lately and mind you, packing up my things every now and then is very stressful. It seems that time has become my enemy where I should race against it for the fear of losing the game. At a certain point, I am spared from emotional investments (and baggages as well!) but it alienates my mind and heart for exploring the various possibilities that could happen along the way, ending up with a remorse: "I would’ve known the place or the person better if I should’ve looked closely or should’ve stayed longer". There have been a lot of opportunities that passed my way but I never got to savor even a tinge of those moments because I was in a hurry to depart for my next journey. I was confident enough that I will still have another glimpse of those that I have missed, but sad to say that I could no longer "pass twice the same river". Again, i keep on telling my stubbron self, that i am not in total control of everything…and the new realities that my senses perceive each day are so precious and unique that that they will never remain unchanged tomorrow…my life is more of a hurdle where i focus myself so much on my destination, disregarding the joys and the struggles of my journey…
Moral lesson: As I travel along the road, I should allow my head to turn once in a while so that my senses may have a better view of what the world has to offer…and to take time to smell the flowers…
Uncategorized | Comment (0)some facts about doing my laundry
doing my laundry may be droning for some reasons but it has opened my awareness to the personal issues i keep on dealing with myself…
wash
it’s been ages that i washed my clothes with my bare hands. as far as i can remember, the last time i stretched and crumpled those dirty shirts of mine was when the pulsator of our washing machine at home screwed up and i had no choice but to put everything inside the large tub, and let my 10 fingers do the job…here i am now, doing it again but with disdain. at the back of my mind, i was torn between living the easy life and taking responsibility for myself…i have been so used in getting things done in a jiffy that my understading of personal accountability and trustworthiness were shrouded…i was so into my comfort zones lately that i almost forgot where i actually came from…i know that i have endured a lot through the years but my painless and worry-free disposition has reduced my memory to practicality…all i ever wanted was an easy life and there was a point in time that i thought it was possible…but in reality, it wasn’t. just like washing my clothes, it is difficult…
rinse
i usually rinse my clothes three times before i finally drench it in a separate tub of fabric conditioner mixed with water. this is to make sure that what i will be wearing will be free from remnants of soap suds. i just don’t like the impression that my laundry was haphazardly done especially when my folks notice some white marks on my shirt as if i applied too much powder on my body (which i don’t usually do)…i am also very particular with stains…if they still remain after several washing, i would throw or give that shirt away…in life, there have been instances that i hate myself too much because of my woundedness…that i often question my credibility and worthiness, thinking that i don’t deserve anything…that happiness can never be free or spontaneous because i have to work hard for it…like the stains on my shirt, there are certain experiences that i’d rather forget because it is too painful to remember…only to realize later on that facing it squarely, when i had the chance, would have made me courageous and strong…now, i feel bad when the "ghosts" of my past would haunt me again because i have thrown them away…
dry
drying my clothes is not a trouble-free task for i have to bear the intense heat of the sun…or wait for several days before i can finally wear my favorite shirt or jeans if there’s rain…at times, i’d like to defy time, ironing my damp clothes forcibly so that i can use them again, only to be embarrassed later on that they stink. in life, there are occasions when i get so impatient over certain matters…that i jump easily to conclusion without considering the odds…that i have been so attached to the results of my words and actions that i have failed to look closely into myself and discern what is more loving and life-giving…and then, i am reminded once again that my thoughts are faster than my mouth so that i can weigh things well inside my mind before blurting them out…and that i can be sensible enough to control myself for the greater good…
fold
i am a certified "OC" (obsessive compulsive) and "control freak". folding clothes for me is like solving a geometrical equation, where i would painstakingly pleat every edges in order to come up with a perfect square…more so, i would arrange them neatly- segregating the whites from coloreds, the plain shirts from printed shirts, the crew necks from v-necks, those with "sleeves" from those without "sleeves"…it gives me satisfaction and contentment to see my cabinet or shelf in order…i would always aim for tidiness and harmony…at times, i’d like to see life that way too…that everything’s fixed and all i have to do is to rely on what has been planned or scheduled. but having this idealism has left me frustrated in the past years…there are things that are beyond my control…in the end, i am only invited to take risk and let go…life is not all about precision…i will learn so much if i have the willingness to compromise. life is not perfect and so do i…
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