An Ode To You, Dear Ones

“The place changes and goes, like a wind, like clouds…” so does the song say. I’ve been here forever when I was a kid and now that I’m a bit grown up, I endlessly look for this one place that will make my heart melt away. Now that I’m here again, take me away. I… didn’t want to see it like this. Not anymore. Please stop.

A town is like a family. No, scrap that. A town is a family. My family. Every single one of them – Aunt Irene, Grandma Lauren, Sabeen, my childhood friend. I can go on but.. it’s not going to help me stay upright on my two feet. Each and every one of them, I would have wanted to say “Thank you. I’ve done nothing for you but you make me feel like I’m home everywhere.” You see, home is not a place, but a state of mind, a feeling.

I had to leave. You all knew that my single parent was in dire need of help, but I couldn’t let you guys do all the work for me. I needed to be strong myself. I needed to let you all know that I can handle it. That I’m grown up. That I can be independent. And that once all is said and done, you’d all be proud of me. For that is what I want to be – someone you can be proud of. Because I lived in a family of selfless people. My dreams.. They were your dreams too, weren’t they? You see, family is not people with the same blood as yours, but a state of mind, a feeling.

And I did. I found a community outside. People, company, friends, more loved ones. It was a great feeling. Happiness, tragedy, fear – they were all mixed up in a way I wouldn’t have thought out to be. It was inexplicable to me at first, but you all knew these things right? But somewhere, somehow, I still longed for that certain warmth. And then you look at the birds – they have wings – freedom to go wherever they want to go. Then sometimes, you get frustrated how they always come back at the same exact spot when there’s too much of the world to look at.

I didn’t understand that at first. But I do now.

They wanted to be back home right? Back to their family? I wonder how it felt like living in the air? Because then, there would be no earthquakes to shatter everyone’s homes, no tsunamis to take the lives of everyone you love, shattering your heart. This isn’t a scene of my home… This.. is just.. fantasy… Please tell me.. This isn’t true… Somebody wake me up!!! Please!!! I’m.. begging you..

“The place changes and goes, like a wind, like clouds… like the traces of the heart”.

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I Will Not Offer You The World

I will not offer you the world. Period.
Because quite frankly, I cannot offer you the world.
Not a part of it is mine.
Nor even a tiny speck of its wonders. No.

I just… simply cannot do it.

I cannot show you all the oceans you so dearly love
I cannot reach the top of mountains and shout out loud
The feasts and the food we all so crave
I’m sorry, there is just no way.

But there are things outside of ‘that’ world
That should find you much delight and happiness
I’d be more than willing to provide them to you
If only you’d let me to.

Now… let me show you.

Have you ever wondered how many stars blanket a clear, night sky?
Let me count them for you then, over and over and over
And when I count, I shall describe to you how each of them
Sparkle uniquely, shining your darkened path. Always.

On your way to work and back home, do you stop by to smell the flowers?
There’s a reason why they were placed that way.
Or recall memories upon hearing a song? Upon being touched by the cold wind?
Those too are world’s wonders you don’t want to be missing.

Still… nothing beats being personal.

Do you have a recognition, perhaps small wins? Then let us celebrate!
Let me get you a glass of drink when you’re feeling exhausted and worn out.
Do not mourn a loss only by yourself, we are all interconnected.
For whatever reason it may be, I am at your disposal.

And when you’ve had too much of the world, one too many for you to handle
Come to me. Let’s talk.

Tell me your burdens, tell me your desires, your insecurities and your hopes
And little by little, you will notice; That your world will soon be my world,
And that what I’m giving you, and willing to offer you,
Is not the world (for I cannot offer you that)
But my world.

And you shall see yourself in it.

By then you would have realized, you are not alone.
And that the world that you have longed for –
The oceans, the mountains, the feasts, and the food
Will be nothing but just a backdrop.

Is There Ever A Missing Piece?

Just a couple of minutes ago, I had the opportunity to read Shel Silverstein’s ‘fable’, The Missing Piece. As I browsed through the first couple of pages – which is almost 80% blank by the way – I did not expect anything at all.

BUT… As you may have guessed, it will take more than a thought or two to get me to write to my blog again (which has been sorrowfully deserted by yours truly). Having only a pac-man like figure strolling without direction and word usage even little kids could understand, Shel has produced, what I thought to be, one of the most inspirational pieces known to man. The best thing about this is that he didn’t bombard us with lessons and examples, nor did he persuade imposing thoughts. Instead, he did it in a most subtle way that will surely immerse the readers even for a three-minute read.

The story is open to all kinds of interpretations and I could go on and on with my own version of what the story would like to say – but at the end of it all, I think a common, underlying message is the title of this post: “Is there ever a missing piece?”

Throughout history, it was well-documented that jealousy is indeed a part of human nature. We try to succeed by emulating the people whom we thought have met (or even exceeded) the expectations we ourselves have set. We are setting goals and always looking forward to the satisfaction of having achieved that goals so much that we lose track of what’s really important to us and what satisfies us. His happiness may not be your happiness, and yours could definitely not be hers. We are so fixated at the fact that we view everyone around us as successful and happy that we fail to realize the little things that make our everyday mornings worthwhile.

In an attempt to gain the greater glory, to reach the higher pedestal, and to reach that something that we thought is ‘beyond’ – we ask ourselves – “What is it that they have got that I don’t?” To me, this is the concept of the missing piece.

If I were to ask myself, it’d be this: “What more can I do?” This way, I’m seeing the glass as half-full.

How about you, do you feel that you really have a missing piece?

Of pen and paper

Plinky:
When was the last time you wrote someone a handwritten letter?

Me:
First of all, this is, and will continue to be, an interesting question for a very long time.

I have nothing against digital/handwritten letters, but practically speaking, you wouldn’t write someone a handwritten letter if you get a chance to do it electronically. If you do, it’s either that you’re nostalgic or that person is extremely special to you.

I’ve always thought of writing using pen and paper as a way to connect to myself. These days, I couldn’t even distinguish my handwriting anymore because of excessive use of a computer! Yes, it brings back lots of memories, but at the same time, I had to accept that things do change. Don’t get me wrong – I’ve always wanted to write using pen and paper, but what am I supposed to do that when editing and proofreading is too damn easy on a word processor?

Back to the question though, the last time I wrote to someone a handwritten letter was 6 six years ago, back in 4th year senior high.

Plinky Link

I shall not stand at your grave and weep

I shall not stand at your grave and weep;
You are never there, nor are asleep.
I’m with the thousand winds that blow,
I’ve seen diamond glints on snow,
I’ve wondered about the sun on ripened grain,
I enjoyed the gentle autumn rain.
Every time I awaken in the morning’s hush
I experience the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I gaze at the soft star-shine at night.
I shall not stand at your grave and cry,
Because you are not there, you did not die.

‘Til we meet again, friend!

Preview: The Glimmer of A Candlelight

“The sky is beautiful. I wouldn’t let another day pass without being graced by the warmth of this sunlight.” In that very moment, Riku bowed his head down, prayed with hands firmly clasped, and tears rushed out of his eyes, obviously trying to hold it back.

“What’s wrong, grandpa?” asks his energetic niece, Sakura, who is only about to turn 11 this month. Immediately after asking, she pulls out the white handkerchief from her pocket and wipes his uncle’s tears away. Due to their age difference however, Sakura refers to him as grandpa.

Riku does not immediately respond. In fact, he knew he heard Sakura’s voice, but could not comprehend the words that she said.

He finally uttered the words “Thank you, my dear” in a very low and quiet but firm voice. He paused for a short while before continuing on. “It was… a day… like no other.” The lively Sakura faced him, which made Riku feel even more embarassed. He didn’t want an old man ruin the day of a child who has just arrived from a far away place for a vacation. It just felt wrong. So he stopped.

“Eh? What are you talking about, grandpa? What happened?”

Just when Sakura is about to ask him again, a loud voice was heard from afar. “Oi! You two! Come back to the car now! We’re about to leave!” Sakura replied with enthusiasm, “Yes, dad!”

I really have to let this out. Otherwise, this wouldn’t ever continue again. I have been pondering about this for quite a while now and that it’s out – I MUST FINISH THIS. Please. (Yes, I’m begging to myself. Pathetic, isn’t it?)

Please, please, please look forward to it. I will be releasing more details about what I’m writing as the days fly by (you should be getting more clues from the tags section of this post). Thank you for your patience. 🙂