Sometimes I fear too much.

I fear that thought of realizing that everyone and everything I hold special to me as of this moment will come off as trivial, as immature, and as too simplistic when I get older.

I fear that one day people will demand of me and I will not be able to meet their needs; not because I do not want to but because I cannot, not because I am unwilling but because I am incapable.

I fear that I will disappoint. It is not so much that I fear disappointing the people that surround me but it is the thought of disappointing myself that gives me weak knees and Pacific Oceans for palms. For a kid with dreams that - right now - seem impossible but probable, seem improbable but possible, I fear that the I of the future would crush the hopes and aspirations of the I in the present.

I fear that moment in time when I could've done something great but I didn't because I was unsure. I fear that the moment has already passed, and it will never come again, not even to whiz by me through the fleeting glance of a stranger.

I fear giving my heart to someone not because it is much too fragile but because I do not know what someone does when someone else is in possession of the said heart.

I fear deception. I fear failure. I fear fear in itself.

Maybe someday I will talk about my strengths, about courage, about solidity.

Maybe someday.

But not now.

On randomness

L’esprit de escalier: (French) The feeling you get after leaving a conversation, when you think of all the things you should have said. Translated it means “the spirit of the staircase.”


I guess this would be my favourite foreign word (assuming English isn't a foreign language, else I'd have a truckload full of favourite foreign words). I believe everyone knows what this means, it's when we talk to someone we want to carry a conversation with but then words just dry up and suddenly you can't think of anything to say. After you leave the person you were having a heated argument over something totally random and/or inappropriate with, you begin to mentally slap yourself and say, "Argh. I should've said something else."


It actually is something all of us do, usually without us noticing. We do something we thought would be funny, but then after we hurt someone with our action, we go all, "Shit. I never should've attempted to do that."


It's a cycle. We always unconsciously do things wrong. And then when we look back, we experience this French sensation. We tell ourselves how stupid we were for not doing something or for doing something entirely wrong.

As the waters cover the sea..

Tomorrow we have our youth camp, and I am feeling a quiet kind of excitement. One where my brain's in ecstasy but the more rational's part just taking everything in, sinking, feeling love, and giving it in return..

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So your blood covers me..

Needless to say whenever I look at pictures of YFC Qatar a pinch still manifests itself in my heart. I miss them, it's not the kind of missing someone where when you say "I miss you" everything falls into place. No.. it's the missing where when you say "I miss you", it means "I miss you even more everyday."

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Guiding me on roads unknown..

Accompanying my arrival to a new place is reacquainting myself to the surrounding. Making new friends, loving new people.. it's all pretty new, and honestly: it's terrifying. It terrifies me so much that I might be different from who I was back then. Now I feel guarded, mistrusting even.. but I know that I'll do it.

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I trust in You alone.

Yes, I do.

Unfortunate annoyance I didn't know I had in me

I'm a human, and if someone who's not human is reading this, being one practically means "making mistakes and learning from choices".

I don't get being human sometimes, though. I try to understand it, and just when I think I get the hang of things, someone comes along with a philosophy so strong it crushes all I hold dearly and leaves me with pieces of what used to be the things I regarded as the truth.

I don't understand why people don't understand when you make a mistake, or maybe they do, they just cower from the fact that not too long ago, they've made the same mistake and never learned from it.

All my life people have been telling me to do this and do that.. the one time I finally follow my heart and go, no, chase after my dreams, people tell me that I'm better off doing something else, being someone else. Something better, something more suited for my intellect, something that would make me happy.

That made me think..

Whenever did the heavens give the people around me the right to tell me what would make me happy?

Whenever did these people think that what they say's better for me when they obviously don't even know what being me is like?

Whenever did I give them the right to exercise my right, speak my words and think my thoughts?

I answered never to all.

Whenever did I last spend time with myself, asking myself if I were sure of what I was doing and is about to do?

Just now. And nothing's felt more liberating.

Archives.

Caught on TV- Man rescued in a rubberboat asked, "28 na ba ngayon?" Cameraman: "Opo, 28." Man somberly replied, "Bday ko na pala." Rescuers who were paddling hard turned to him in surprise before slowly singing, "ha...ppy.. birth..day... to you..." Even in the midst of devastation the Filipino spirit never ceases to acknowledge and celebrate the gift of life.

GMH.

Old event, but never fails to relive the Filipino patriot I have within me.