Spectrum of Life

I know that because

God loves me,

I can do wonderful things.

I can try great things,

Learn anything,

Achieve anything.

-- Maya Angelou





I don't know why I didn't note it down here in my online diary, (and I've been telling myself I would, if ever!) but being a neophyte hypochondriac, I was increasingly worried about my situation, that I only managed to thank God briefly (not with tears of joy as I have imagined myself), and then, on to the next worries. Sad, and really ungrateful.



But anyway, I'd just like to say that something good came my way last Tuesday. I drove for my sis whole day of yesterday and half of today, and it's okay. That news will last me for a long while yet.



Now I can write about things, and thoughts that have plagued me throughout most of the weekend that I haven't voiced out. It's just there waiting for me to put it into words, so that I will always remember that I have passed this road, and moved on.



I was terrified about a number of things during the past three to four months. That's quite a long time to be scared. And I don't mind being scared a little, but I certainly am not fond of being scared into inaction. I hate helplessness. I hate not being in control of my life, and I certainly hate being in the throes of fright that I cannot make any rational decision or thought about things in my life. But what makes being afraid so ridiculous is that I forget and overlooked a lot of blessings that are coming my way, every day. It makes me so ungrateful, and I don't like it. It makes me untrusting to God, I don't like it. And it makes me doubt of His love for me, that I am wracked with guilt at the thought.



What was I afraid of really? I was afraid that I will not experience the whole spectrum of experiences and emotions in life. That I will be limited to this small, tiny existence I've been calling life. That I will be not be able to see more of what God has been generously giving to everybody else. What I don’t realize is that my life is a gift from Him, and whatever I do with it, it will never be just a small, tiny existence.



Those are a lot to think about for one weekend.



I was thinking of those things that I am praying for, but haven't found yet. There are the simple pleasures that everybody takes for granted. And those dreams and wishes I keep in my heart that I am sometimes desperate for.



See the sun shines and greets everyone good morning. Hear the horns of cars and jeepneys everywhere. Taste hot pandesal with melting butter with the smell of coffee in the background. See a movie, chat with friends, have conversation with coffee, listen to reggae music, and read stories that make up life. Smiles, thrown every which way. Laughter, ringing in your ears, long after it's gone. Hugs, for every body.



A passionate kiss. A grand love affair that hopefully will last my whole life. A beautiful child, that every woman wishes to have, but sometimes is afraid to wish for. A profession, that I am good at and that I love. A lifelong promise to learn, and to teach. A wandering feet, and an adventurous heart, to experience and see more of the world. And the list goes on.



Death, which is as much a part of life as life itself, makes you wonder about these things. But it makes you want to grab life in both hands, and do everything all at the same time, experience everything life has to offer.



I thought I have more than enough time to write my life story. I thought I have more than enough time to make it interesting, make it a page-turner if ever somebody will read my story, and not some documentary of a bland life. And I found out I do have enough time. But the thing is, we just don’t know when it will all end.



Maybe my life isn't that interesting, and adventurous, and fulfilling, and insert-another-synonym-for-interesting-here. But I'm a dreamer, a writer, a storyteller. God probably made me a dreamer, so that I can write my own story and put my own dialogues and create my own twists. Maybe God thought, well, she wants a colorful life and I can't give that to everybody, I'll give her the means to put those colors into her life.



And by writing about life, I certainly hope I can.



--------

*It was hard to say no to Sagada and Banawe trip over the weekend. But I'm torn between wanting the adventure right now, and being guilty of all expenses by those physical tests that I just had. Oh well, next week perhaps... :-D

Greeting Cards

"Have enough courage to love ONE more time.

and always one more time."

- Maya Angelou



We were in National Bookstore last weekend, and as usual, after I checked the books section, I went down and browse through the greeting cards section. I love greeting cards, I have a full collection of greeting cards that will probably never be sent, and I have sent and received many the years past.



Imagine my joy and surprise at seeing a Hallmark line of cards entirely written by Maya Angelou. I have forever been looking for her books "I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings" and "Still I Rise" in Powerbooks and National, but I guess I have to concede and order it especially since I've been looking for years and couldn't find it. (I don't like ordering, since I like the excitement of looking for my must-have books)



And as I'm going through my own brand of personal hell these past few days, to my own trepidation, I'm losing my positive outlook in life, and laugh a lot less. I've lived the past three days in zombie-like existence, only existing, moving along, just because I can breathe and eat, and talk and sleep, but not because, as I have always felt, that there's something in eating, and talking and sleeping and breathing that is beautiful. I haven't been living.



I'm still waiting for the results of my physical exam, and not knowing if you're sick or not is the worst. But the thing is, I'm not yet sure, and I've already given up. I'm so ashamed.



I can't talk about future plans, I can't even think about my own up and coming 28th birthday. I'm just gripped in fear and self-pity and like a prey staring at her own predator, I cannot move, take action and fight.



This is not me.



My greatest comfort comes from an unexpected place. I received a phone call from a friend the other night, and we talked for a long time. I told him about my fear and plain and simply, he said he'll pray for me. The comfort comes when he said that we'll just simply have to work harder to get me a guy immediately if I really turn out to be sick. We laughed. Hard and loud. Probably the only genuine laugh I've had all weekend.



Back to Maya Angelou, she has some of the most beautiful words ever written, or spoken for that matter. I've now downloaded and copied almost all her famous quotes (which are many, as evidence of her eloquence). As I was chatting with Ria (after two months of no contact with one another), she made me feel a whole lot better by not being afraid to discuss anything and everything, I'm also reminded of these words from the famous writer...



"God never leaves me.

In my ignorance,

I have frequently thought

I have left God,

but that is altogether impossible."



" God puts rainbows in the clouds

so that each of us—in the dullest

and most dreary moments—

can see a possibility of hope."



- Maya Angelou



Well, I learned that not all rainbows are found in the sky. Some are funny remarks about sex and comforting words from a friend from the other side of the world.

Fan Fiction

Whoever said fan fiction doesn't contain a single iota of sense and doesn't have profound words or beautiful imagery obviously hasn't read my kind of fan fiction.



Sometimes, when I'm lucky, I come across written words that literally invades and stay imprinted on my mind, I just have to take note and write it down...even if I have to published it here in my daily blog.



--------



excerpts from

"Impressions" by Jaylee

An HP h/d Fan Fiction



...How refreshing life would be if we all maintained that magical moment within youth, when love was new, passions intense, and life could be made or broken by the small things we adults value far too little: a smile, a nod, hand holding, tentative caresses, incessant kisses, and the first, fantastic fumbling with unadulterated lust.



...Unwisely thinking that love is categorical, and that it cannot or wont or shouldn’t exist beyond the boundaries each have been taught to believe - in regards to good and evil, right and wrong, acceptable and unacceptable.



Ignorantly judging that the impossibility of their attraction by societal standards translates to it not existing at all.



As if willing it away will make it stop. As if any man, creature or animal could ignore the drive of nature, the desire stemmed in the wild rush of pheromones, or the socialistic tendencies of sexual beings: to partner, to mate, to love.



...Love itself is such a genuine, natural thing; it is our own psychological fumbling, our own fears and prejudices, which complicate it.



...Love, it seemed, had crossed the valley of hate, and triumphed smiling.



...I’ve heard it said that the first love is always the deepest, strongest, most profound. Could it be because the first time is the only time we love freely, newly, without past hurts and broken hearts to shadow our better judgment? Could it be because everything is fresh, and exciting… a dizzying experience that can never be duplicated in the same way again?



Or could it be because first love is the one poignant moment in time when we realize that we’re not alone in the universe and that little pieces of ourselves can be found in the warm embrace of another, whose heart beats in near tangent with our own?



...The world would be such a magical place if all love were like that. If everyone realized, as they have, that love is seldom convenient. It can’t be controlled, manufactured, or defined. It doesn’t have an on and off switch, and wont fit tidily into a box. Many have tried to place boundaries on it, to limit its power and delude its purity, and all who have tried have lost something of themselves in the process.



It, quite simply, just is.



------



*Now, you know why I'm addicted to HP h/d fan fiction. Tee hee.

Not So Amazing Day

Gah!



It was a nail-biting experience, and my adrenalin was rushing. I didn't know one can get this hooked on a tv show. Tee hee, I'm nuts!



BIG DISAPPOINTMENT OF THE DAY: Colin and Christie lost to Chip and Kim. It wouldn't be as big a disappointment if they lost to Brandon and Nicole. But anyway, I try to put negative thoughts out of my mind asap. So the sooner I write about this and get it off my chest the better...



LOOKING FORWARD TO: Watching Matt Damon in Borne Supremacy again later. Been waiting for it for almost two months. I've already watched him last night, I'm going to watch him again today. He's not Brad Pitt, but I like him. Good (youthful) looks and brains. Yum.



Signing off till tomorrow. I'm going to the doctor, something I've been dreading.



Gah!



*Runs off, screaming...*

Pieces of Me

Pieces Of Me

Ashlee Simpson



On a Monday, I am waiting

Tuesday, I am fading

And by Wednesday, I can't sleep

Then the phone rings, I hear you

And the darkness is a clear view

Cuz you've come to rescue me



Fall... With you, I fall so fast

I can hardly catch my breath, I hope it lasts



Ohhhhh

It seems like I can finally rest my head on something real

I like the way that feels

Ohhhhh

It's as if you've known me better than I ever knew myself

I love how you can tell

All the pieces, pieces, pieces of me

All the pieces, pieces, pieces of me



I am moody, messy

I get restless, and it's senseless

How you never seem to care

When I'm angry, you listen

When youre happy, it's a mission

And you wont stop 'til I'm there



Fall... Sometimes I fall so fast

Well, I hit that bottom

Crash, you're all I have



Ohhhhh

It seems like I can finally rest my head on something real

I like the way that feels

Ohhhhh

It's as if you known me better than I ever knew myself

I love how you can tell

All the pieces, pieces, pieces of me



How do you know everything I'm about to say?

Am I that obvious?

And if it's written on my face...

I hope it never goes away... yeah



On a Monday, I am waiting

And by Tuesday, I am fading into your arms...

So I can breathe



Ohhhhh

It seems like I can finally rest my head on something real

I like the way that feels

Ohhhhh

It's as if you've know me better than I ever knew myself

I love how you can tell

Ohhhhh

I love how you can tell

Ohhhhh

I love how you can tell

All the pieces, pieces, pieces of me

All the pieces, pieces, pieces of me...



------

*While waiting,

for everything to fall into place,

I'll sing and dream that these words are real,

In the meantime...

Schadenfreude

Schadenfreude

(SHAAD-n-froi-duh) noun, Pleasure derived from others' misfortunes.

[From German Schadenfreude, from Schaden (damage, harm) + Freude

(joy).]



The American English Language, as expected, is probably the most dominant force amongst all languages. I like the British English better, probably because I can imagine that unmistakable, (and so adorable) British accent that goes with it and I can hear those Shakespearean actors reciting Much Ado About Nothing with fervor. Filipino is closest to my heart for I can express myself fully with it, and I can understand, even the weirdest humor derived from the language.



But it's interesting to know words from other languages that fits a human emotion, or relationship so perfectly. We Filipinos have no word for the above, but when I received this from my daily word vocabulary subscription, I was amazed that the Germans, perceived to be cold and calculating, have words to describe this particular human emotion. (If I'm not mistaken, angst, another favorite word of mine, is also derived from German...I have to check that out!)



And it's human. One cannot put oneself above this emotion for we all feel this and we all deny it afterwards. That's only human too. Pretending we all live in a world where people are perfect. Pretending we are all good little boys and girls who don't feel that little wave of pleasure when someone, particularly one we don't like, or even hate, had misfortune.



The hardest to admit is when we feel a little bit glad, that our friends, who we like, love or cherish, may have a bit of misfortune (not too much, for we already have to rethink if they are really our friends if we clapped our hands at their misfortune) because as we all say, misery loves company. And we are all competitive, in every way, even with people we like.



Well, the next time I feel a little bit glad that one of my girlfriends who is older than me, still don't have a boyfriend, I can't chalk it up to misery loves company bit anymore. When I feel like dancing when I win Scrabble or Boggle or other games against my friends, who all lost horribly, I now have the word for it.



It's schadenfreude.



------

*I wonder how many people out there will admit that they felt this way before? That we're only human...hmmm...

Somewhere and Back Again

"Whenever I get gloomy with the state of the world, I think about the arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport...Often it's not particularly dignified or newsworthy, but it's always there - fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, old friends. If you look for it, I've got a sneaky feeling you'll find that love actually is all around."

- Hugh Grant, as Prime Minister, Love Actually





Still in relation with the "The Terminal" movie that I watched, I intend to write something about one of my most favorite things in this world (fifth actually, after love, dreams, written words, and chocolates), travel.



I like looking at planes. So frightening in its majestic size, it literally makes the world a smaller place. Aside from my personal computer at home, and the telephone, the airplane is one invention that shrinks distances. For me, it's the Millenium Falcon (not the Enterprise, for I'm not a Trekkie, I'm a StarWars Geek), ready to shuttle off to its next great adventure in a galaxy far, far away. It represents places I've never been before, places I've always wanted to see. The airplane is, and probably will always be, the ultimate symbol of the great adventure into the unknown, beyond the horizon.



I can almost imagine myself, with that unmistakable tingle of excitement that probably passes through the spine of every passenger upon boarding. I would look back, instilling in my mind the familiar picture of home, and would grin and run fast towards the adventure waiting for me, but all the while promising to be back soon.



I think I have a soft spot for airports. Maybe because of my deep love of anything related to travel. But I think it's because it signifies so many things to many people. I should probably hate the airport because I am one of those people who really, truly hates waiting, of any kind. Yes, I'm also one of those who, when being waited upon, doesn't mind it as much.



And so much waiting is being done in an airport. Waiting for someone to arrive, waiting for the call to board your flight, and even waiting for some crazy chance to get to that flight you know was not meant for you in the first place.



But I love airports. It has different meanings to different people. I smile when I remember the way they painted the picture of love in Love Actually, by comparing it with the Arrivals gate scene. All those hellos minus the goodbyes. All the hugs and kisses everywhere. Some with tears of joy, some with silent prayer of thanks, and then some with pretend excitement. Me, I'd want many hellos, but not goodbyes. I'd rather have hellos and see-you-soons. Hugs and an excited wave. Arrivals and Departures Gate in a nutshell.



I am wishing fervently that I get to travel someday, get to see as many airports in the world as I can. All those Arrivals Gates to see. But I have no wish to leave my home for good. This will always be home for me. I may want to see Harry Potter, Eiffel Tower, the Vatican, the pyramids, and walk around Central Park, but I'll be happier if I know that after doing all that, I'll soon be returning home with a hot pandesal in the morning waiting for me.



If we are people carrying signages while waiting in a bus stop, a train station or in the airport, studies show that majority of the Filipinos will be carrying signs saying



'Anywhere but here'.



I remember a story in Robert Fulghum's book, and I will borrow it here for now, because very appropriately, my sign will say



'Go somewhere and then back again.'



So, what would your sign say?



-----

*I watched The Terminal, not because of Tom Hanks or Steven Spielberg, but because Diego Luna is there. Go figure my reason is someone who looks young enough to be mistaken for a high school student.

Waiting for the Ax to Fall

If I will list down the most difficult things in life, the top three will definitely be - waiting, waiting for something uncertain, and waiting for the ax to fall. I know, I know, it's all waiting. Well, I'm an impatient person and I'd rather be taken by surprise than wait for something, or someone.



I drove for my sister and my mom earlier. First to the travel agency which will help my sister process her papers in order to go be with her new hubby. She had been waiting for five months now, and she will have to wait just a little bit longer. If it were me, I'll be whining everyday till God wouldn't know what to do with me. She probably is, and He's probably helping already.



Then, we went to Makati of course, for my mom to take care of her own business. My sister and I proceed to Glorietta, where else? And after we had lunch, and my mom joined us, we watched 'The Terminal'.



And it's a very good movie about waiting.



Oh okay, it's probably about immigrants, and foreigners in a foreign land and so on and so forth. But for me, it's about waiting. Tom Hanks who has been waiting for that chance to fulfill his promise to his father made me realize that sometimes, the wait is almost always worth it.



So here I am, in my room, still waiting. I can count on my head the things I'm waiting for. And maybe because I'm more pessimistic these days (can you blame me?) I am waiting like the prisoner about to be executed. I'm waiting for exam results, breast exam results, and my Prince Charming. Ha, now I'm including waiting for my True Love to come with waiting for results I've been dreading to see.



Again, can you blame me?



I'm crossing my fingers that it will be good news all around, praying to high heavens that I have had enough bad news of late, and I'm hoping against hope, that indeed, all of these will be worth the wait.

11 mins, 6 hrs, 28 yrs & a Lifetime

"...I need to write about love. I need to think and think and write and write about love --- otherwise, my soul won't survive."

---- Maria's diary, Eleven Minutes, Paulo Coelho



Monday is my car’s enforced rest day, but it’s also the start of the week. So in my mind, to have a good week, you should have a good Monday. It’s psychological. Now other people (ordinary people with ordinary hair) only take 4 hours and voila! Their hair is as straight as a board. Mine of course is no ordinary hair so good thing I brought a book I’ve been wanting to read, but haven’t had the inclination to for the last three months.



While they are putting all sorts of chemicals in my hair, I turned the page to the latest Paulo Coelho novel, Eleven Minutes. Everybody has read it, in the small confines of their room, relishing beautiful words, and pondering on the latest Coelho lessons in private. Me, I’m only reading it now, while I’m in a small salon, getting my hair straightened out, with three gay guys shouting obscenities at each other and two manicurists laughing piercingly at the gays’ antics. But read it there, I did.



It only took me two hours to read it. Go figure, that’s the amount of time needed to iron my thick, course hair. Fe, the hairdresser, can no longer keep her arms up by the time she was through. Funny, in that same amount of time, two major events happened.



Paulo Coelho wrote a beautiful and poignant novel about sex, life and love. All my favorite subjects in one book. Why didn’t I read it the moment after I bought it? The thing that struck me the most, in the midst of the shrieking and the loud whirl of the hair dryer, is that I led a life so different from Maria, yet we, ultimately, want the same things in life – I will repeat it here, just so there’s no mistake – ‘…she dreamed of meeting the man of her life (rich, handsome, intelligent), of getting married (in a wedding dress), having two children (who would grow up to be famous), and living in a lovely house (with a sea view).’ And I wondered how is it that two people who led such different lives, a 22 yr old prostitute and a 28 yr old virgin, can want the same things? Aren’t we all influenced by the events of our lives? And yet there it was.



In retrospection, we have a lot in common. We feel the hard pressure of society to have sex or to be sexual yet maintain the dignity of an innocent virgin. We both yearn for adventure overseas, making our dreams come true, and just seizing the moment and opportunities that comes our way. And finally, just when I’m on the verge of giving up on love, she did, but inside, there is that burning hope that we are both wrong in our misconception that love exists only for certain people and not for us.



The thing is, we both believed that we’re the only ones who feel this way, and that we’re alone, lonely beyond belief, drowning in our own emotional baggage. Hah, I still couldn’t wrap my brain around the fact that I, an emotionally and sexually repressed old maid, will have all of these in common with a young, cynical and hardened prostitute. I mean, I went to the opposite direction, and she went to the other, yet we are looking for the same things! How ironic can life really get?



Then, I looked up, still dizzy and reeling from all of these Coelho realizations running around in my deviant mind, and my eyes almost bugged out of their sockets. My hair is straight! No longer sporting the ugly, big waves with frizz sticking out on all directions, it’s straight! I want to laugh out loud. I want to get up and dance in the middle of the salon, and I want to jump like I did when I finally found out I passed my first accounting subject after three tries. Not everyone will like it but I don’t care what others say, they didn’t spend all their life with frizzy hair. Believe me, I’ll chalk this one up to life’s small pleasures.



6 hours after, I emerged from the salon, fully self-conscious about my new hair, and almost always catching myself in the verge of a full-blown smile. I got home, still giddy, still excited, and I got online immediately, wanting to get my daily dose of Harry and Draco, and got another little surprise. Let’s just say, I was acting like a teenager, and I’m already 28. I guess that’s just a number, and really, it doesn’t mean that much (okay, someday I can fully convince myself of that!).



And so, I ended the day watching my favorite people in the world, Jai, Carson, Kyan, Ted and Thom makeover another guy, said my prayer of thanks and my 3 wishes to God, who’s probably wondering if I got His message for the day, and promptly went to sleep with a smile on my face, keeping that message inside and hoping it'll be with me a lifetime.



Good thing I didn't do too much damage to my hair. :-)

Get In Line

I went out last Friday with Jasper and Liza, sipped iced coffee in cena and then, talked about 'interesting' things over more coffee. Jasper mentioned that his friend, who apparently reads my blog once in a while commented that I talked about sex a lot. Well, I'm just compensating for my completely lack thereof said subject.



But it made me think if I have imagined drabbles about couplehood that doesn't involve sex. Of course I have. It's just too painful for me to write and dwell on it, because I'm so afraid that I will never have those moments in my life. It's easier to talk about naughty things since it's light, and almost everyone can relate. Except me, of course.



Well, back to my current drabble. I've been reading this Harry Potter fanfic and it's well written and witty. And I've been following my favorite Amazing Race Racers Colin and Christie (though Colin's not everyone's favorite because he's hotheaded, I like that they are the leading couple, and of course, Colin's a hottie, even if he is short...) around the globe so, this is the result.



-------



GET IN LINE



“Hurry up, will you! We’ll be late for that train to London!” she’s practically screaming because he was taking his own sweet time walking.



“Okay, okay, I’m there. Don’t panic.”



Just when she’s on the verge of losing it, her erstwhile travel companion smiled at her.



Giving her the full blast, high intensity, patented smile that can make her insides turn to goo, and just make her want to follow him to the gates of Mordor. The kind of smile that should be outlawed in public for it turn girls and women like her to gibbering idiots in a matter of seconds.



“Eeep.”



“What was that? I thought I heard you say something a while ago when we were bordering the train.” He plopped down on the chair beside her and promptly stretched.



“Gah!”



“What’s wrong with you? You look like you’re in pain or something. Is something wrong?” he asked, looking concerned. “Do you want a massage or something? My shoulders hurt, yours must be hurting too after walking for hours inside the museum.”



She shook her head, still staring wide-eyed at him.



Two women shared the compartment with them. They kept glancing surreptitiously at him while he made jokes about some paintings and sculptures they’ve seen at the Louvre. After thirty minutes of laughing, she marveled at the thought that if this good-looking guy appreciates art, and still make money designing buildings and bridges, there’s hope for the world.



Then, he asked if it’s okay if he takes a nap. She shook her head again, smiling at him. He was asleep in a matter of minutes. 'Geesh, gorgeous, sexy, funny and smart. I’m in deep, deep trouble,' she thought.



She felt a tap on her shoulder.



“Is he yours? If he’s not, I want his number.” The sophisticated woman eyed her friend, who’s sleeping with a goofy smile on his face.



She couldn’t speak. She just stared at the woman, nodded and turned her gaze back at the gorgeous man beside her. Leaning back on her seat, she chuckled softly to herself, thinking of the women in front of her, 'Queue forms to the right, honey. Single file. No pushing.'

Owl Post

If you know Harry Potter, then you know that they deliver messages by owl. It's a unique and refreshing way to receive messages and letters, but there's no one more creative in sending messages than God.



I was sleepy, and having difficulty staying awake, so I watched TV instead. I can't sleep yet because I still feel full from eating lunch. So I surfed through the numerous channels and finally landed on Oprah. I forgot it's almost time for my afternoon Oprah. I don't like the topic, I don't like the guest, so I almost flipped it to the next channel when Oprah said something that made me start.



"One thing I learned about God, is that when you finally GET the lesson, it will stop."



I will not go through lengths on how that is like a light bulb moment for me. I know and believe with all my heart that everything happens for a reason. I know all that. I also trust Him with my life, with my frequent whining and complaining of course. What I realized today, that I should have realized years ago when I learned to trust Him, was that He those 'reasons' may be lessons in disguised. And I just keep asking Him why, and complain and be envious and be negative about it when I should be looking to myself and go down on my knees to pray so that I'll know what lesson He's trying to tell me.



Well, at least this is the first step.



About the lesson, I have notions on what it could be, and I've already been trying to convince myself to believe it. Maybe with His help, I'll finally be able to believe and thereby learned that very difficult lesson.



An owl post from Him definitely comes at the right time, and when we needed it the most.

Waiting In Vain

When I opened my eyes this morning, I searched immediately amidst my ten fluffy pillows, seeming to unconsciously look for that something missing in my life. When I washed my face and stared at myself in the bathroom mirror, I squelched the heavy feeling still residing in my chest. When I ate my breakfast, sip my morning coffee, read the headlines of newspapers, I still crave. When I brushed my teeth, went back to bed, turn on the tv for morning news and let my mind wander, I'm still looking, and waiting.



Sometimes, uncertainty plagues my whole being. Panic reigns, and I scrambled to do something about it. That's my thing, you see. Try to look for something to do about a problem, try to be forward thinking. Or, I look for something positive to do. It's the only way to survive this waiting game that drives me to the brink of, if not totally pushed me over to, hopelessness.



I somehow find myself looking out at windows, trying to see shadows in the morning light. I began noticing small, pretty details in people I wouldn't find remotely good looking before. I see the world in a different light, because I'm hoping when I next turn my head, I will find what I'm looking for. I’m still holding my breath.



It’s vaguely disturbing to write all of this down because I see a woman driven by her own negative emotions and I hate to be that kind of woman. I hate feeling like this, and I hate not being able to control the situation I’m in. I see myself as a pathetic wanderer, desperate for something that may or may not be meant for her. I hate doing things to find it and going back home, tail between my legs, coming up empty handed.



I hate it that fulfilling my dreams has taken a backseat just because time is running out, and this has become more of a priority. Is there such a thing as having good things too late? Is there a deadline to being happy? That when you cross a certain age and you still haven’t achieved it, it will no longer be available to you? I hate feeling incapacitated to the point of helplessness going about pursuing something. This is something I cannot do on my own. This is something I cannot have total control. In a nutshell, I just don’t like losing hope about anything. And I especially don’t like being envious of other people’s happiness. Which I must admit, I am. And everyday, I’m becoming increasingly more so.



I laughed, I daydream, I breathe in and out, I smile, I talk and I eat. I sleep, I dream, I hurt I go out with friends, chat with them and laugh uproariously over little things. Sometimes I even begin to hope again. But I still crave, I still search, I still long for, and I’m still desperately holding on to that very thin fabric of hope born out of faith that I'm not waiting for nothing.



----------

*As I read this again, I ask myself, why, Lord, oh why did you make Librans such hopeless romantics? I feel like if I’m not one, I’ll be enjoying my single life. But no, Librans have the hardest of combinations - hopeless romantics (read: in love with love) yet very picky (read: will not settle for anything less than what THEY FEEL is best). I tend to choose the harder path in life, usually. Go figure I’m stuck being a hardcore Libran, and destined to make difficult choices in life.



**For all Librans who disagrees, I don’t know if it’s just my Libran friends and I. Oh well, sorry for the generalization. Everything is relative.

Floating

It is a lot less than swimming, for you're not moving at all. Just lying with your back on the water, with your arms spread out and your eyes closed, just letting the water take you wherever it wants to. Or, you're on your stomach and you're trying to hold your breath as long as you can, not moving an inch, for there is no one to disturb the water, and so it doesn't even really bring you anywhere. When you're already out of breath, you stand up and you find yourself in the same place as where you started. Doing it on water requires a lot of current for you to move. Someone has to make a splash somewhere; otherwise, you stay where you are.



To go with the flow, it will take others for you to move. But you will move alongside the rest of them. Wherever they want you to go, there you will be.



I feel like I've just been floating for years. I've been following the crowd, letting them make big splashes in their lives and I try to hold my breath as long as possible, seemingly waiting for the inevitable force, hopefully that wonderful thing, that will move my life to any direction.



Then, when I cannot hold my breath any longer, I stand up, and realized I was in nearly drowning in deep waters, and I can barely thread to save my life. Everyone is moving, swimming leisurely; swimming fast, some lagging behind, and many, like me, floating and letting a few people lead them to their destiny.



Funny, this is not where I want to be. But this is where those years of floating took me.



I started swimming, slowly but surely, hoping to finally gain distance towards the right direction. It will take a lot of prayer and hard work, but I'll get there someday.