Dreamt about a friend last night. I hugged him tight, and while patting my hands through his back I felt a rib that seemed to stick out, by his left shoulder blade. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, told him that I loved him. Then a wave of sadness washed over me and broke me into tears.
While everyone seems to run around like headless chickens in pursuit of frivolous shit, there are the few people whose hearts are made of gold trying to make this crazy world a better place. Everyday, I wake up from my dreams wondering if I have what it takes to live beyond my own, to give, to make the world proud. To create meaning, to find out what it really means to be alive, to pursue the horizon with a fiery passion, to live without abandon.
I feel like I need to live on the edge of my seat, to pursue that distant horizon without the trappings of complacency. A need to surround myself and absorb the energy of kindred spirits, to face with curiosity where others would acquiesce with fear. To find the strength to understand what it means to believe in something, to believe in anything.
I am happiest when I am spiritually exhausted. Crawling into bed as the sun is about to come up after a long night of monkeying with something – whether it’s propped up by words, by music, by photos, by a gossamer of ideas. Anything that can stand on its own and I can look back and say hey, I made that. Even if it’s nonsense.
I was going through my Picasa, and chanced upon old pictures of a Batanes trip I took in 2004. I realized with certainty that it was one of the most meaningful trips I’ve ever taken in my life. There were so many reasons that made it amazing, not just because the islands were insanely breathtaking, but more so because of the beautiful people we met along the way, at an opportune time in our lives. Each waking moment was so full of detail and emotion, which happens so rarely once we start acquiescing to the rhetoric of the “real” world.
And so I think this trip was the turning point, seeding an adventurous heart wanting to see the small places of the world. Meeting kindred souls that make the meaning of this world count, pursuing his/her own dream independently yet collectively fueling the fire of what it means to be alive. Everyday I seek that hidden place of curiosity and wide-eyed wonder, believing that our lives are meant to be shared together in good times and bad, trying to understand what it really means to be human.
I usually don’t like reposting content, but here is an old favorite:
there’s nothing like donning a backpack, knowing that everything you own is on your back… but the real thrill comes in knowing that you’re looking forward to seeing things that you can never own inside your bag, but only in the memories that you create in travelling, by leaving everything behind.
I need to take a break. I miss my sidekick who understands what its like to explore what’s out there, and is never afraid to get lost with me as I am apt to. (Although she will discreetly let you know that we’ve been through this route before, but that’s besides my point.) I really need to get out, get dirty, and know the world a little closer, away from this damn compooper.
One can only take the dreary consistencies of routine so far, before starting to babble helplessly like an idiot. I feel like I just keep waiting. And waiting. Wait.
Sundays mean that Monday is coming. So you try to squeeze in as much as you can out of the weekend.
Sort of like finding out that you’ve been slacking your entire life, and realize that you need to get out of all your comfort zones before it traps you into the inescapable void of your typical. Any drastic action should still be weighed against the occasion, but with so much to lose, why drown in the details? Everything to venture, everything to gain.
For the first time, I found it a bit disturbing that the frequency and depth of my writing is somewhat affected by my alcohol intake. Even though I am naturally inquisitive and spend many a minute pondering the grandeur of nonsense, I usually find myself uninspired to place it in writing until a cohesive string of ideas are conjured up and ready for baking.
I have to admit that it’s a lot more enjoyable to sit down and sort things out when you’re carrying a little head buzz. Also, the world makes more sense with beer in hand. And as Batman may have it, I am sitting sober as a stone on a Friday night pecking away at the keyboard. Le sigh.
Today’s sunset will be my last in Manila for this month, as I’m scheduled to fly out in a few hours back to soggy San Francisco. It was a good run. Despite all the chaos in the grit of the third world, there will always be something beautiful out there to pick out, and take home with you.
And then you quietly realise that there really is no such thing as home – because you take it with you wherever you may come, and you find it wherever you may go.
There’s nothing about the unknown to be afraid of, because by the time it besets you, all you will need to do is shut your mouth and deal with it. And that’s what makes you a stronger person. Have you ever met someone who’s successful and happy by choosing the obvious, and staying put in his/her comfort zone? Boundaries are made to be broken, and life is too short to live the same life like yesterday.
The world speaks to us through words of wisdom and unforgiving grace. Of the gradient sunsets and hidden currents under the sea, of the way the wall of silence at night absorbs you into its slumber. Yet look at all the noise we force into our lives, littered in greed and meaningless banter. Then, each morning, the world will again offer you its beauty, to be ignored all over again. Sleep through the sunrise, and work in a windowless cube through the sunset.
Rules need to be understood and are sometimes fun to break, because it’s only then you realise what they are meant to protect. There’s nothing to be done about the doldrum of formalities, but it helps to stop the hamster wheel and think about what it means to drink your favorite brewed beverage, exercise your rights to free speech, stretch your back, hold a warm hand. You’re as happy as you want to be.
The beat of the heart only lasts for a split second. Much, like life.
I’m hoping that the solidity of my opinion is not a function of stubbornness and age, but rather of thought out convictions that are a result of critical thinking, and holding myself up to standards a step further than what is simply convenient. For it is easy to act in the mold that pleases other people – but to realise at the end of the day that disconnect between what your heart says and what strangers in the world want you to believe in, is unforgivable. Although I recently read a quote in the New Yorker (really love that publication, BTW), asking if you would rather be right, or would you rather be happy. The latter at a glance would seem like an invitation that no opinion is better than a dissenting one, but I’m guessing the point is to find that middle ground where you can argue and justify your beliefs, without being a bitch about it. Barry once asked, Can we disagree without being disagreeable?
I wish the world were as simple as when I was six, and as explainable when I was sixteen. As each decade adds another layer of things to think about, I can’t help but realise that the questions are more important, than the answers we desperately seek.
I know that I need to pay more dues to assuage my fears that all which hold meaning to me are beyond my horizon. Sort of like being fueled by the fantasy of what tomorrow brings, or how art is better seen through an f/1.2 lens, or how a 4WD can take me far away into the desert rocks and snow capped mountains. There may be some truth to the matter that spending (smartly) on gear can take you places, and that there is no use in making money if you’re not enjoying it. However, my free time is spent fattening my ass in front of a computer instead of actually busting an ankle running the walk. Does the picture exist, if it is never taken? And what can be really shared of that imprisoned in your mind? I need to get out of this rut, and it’s a horrible feeling to be needlessly stuck in the world’s pecking order. Guess what, there really is no such thing as life insurance. Everyday is a gift to take apart, get lost, and find your way back all over again.