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It is a waste to ignore the musings of the mind. |
| Writing is the communication of the writer's hopes and dreams. To write is to express the laughter, the tears, the joys of the heart. It is the writer's desire to communicate all his feelings and desires in her/her heart to a reader. |
| Today, I visited a friend in hospital. She is a cripple. She went shopping one day. While in the shop, she stepped on a drop of water. Who and how the drop of water was on the clean floor nobody knew. My friend was always a careful lady, walks slowly and she is ever so careful she did not step on anything; like a drop of water, a small piece of paper, a leaf off a bunch of flowers, or anything at all. She is such a careful woman, who knows how it is to be stepped on. You see, years and years ago, long before she and I met and became friends, Mercy was a very active girl: she loved jumping rope with friends; she loved running and catching butterflies; she runs errands for her mother; and most of all she is the one and only girl in class who can outrun the passenger train that picks up children on their way to school. The train was old and practically ancient, an old passenger bus that was converted into a train. Mercy loved running; in fact, she was the champion runner in our class, the only girl who can outrun a train. It was one day when the physical education teacher, a matronly woman of 50 who started it all. She created the test: the fastest runner in school; and she must be a girl. Well, you should have seen all the girls in class go for it. Among them was Mercy, Every year, every girl in school entered the contest. And every year Mercy came out the fastest runner. You see, Mercy was what they call a bony girl. She had bones all right because she was ever so slim and her body was mere bones; without fat bubbles in her tummy nor any part of her body. Her arms were as bony as her legs. Although her body was solid with flesh and bones, when it came to her legs there was a picture of just bones. As I mentioned earlier, her legs were practically solid bones wrapped in such a. tiny bit of flesh. |
| I hate it when I find myself angry. I lose control. I begin to hate. When I was young, I kept my anger inside me; not wanting to show it. I would feel myself practically boiling inside. I get terribly hateful when I am angry. I lose control. In the intensity of my anger, I probably would or could kill. I get to such an evil thought that I think I lose myself; shake and tremble with hate. I lose patience very quickly; then my anger explodes. There is so much hate in my heart when I am angry. So much fire; so much indignity of self. I hate myself when I am angry. I lose control; I scream; I become a cold, cold heart when I am angry. I lose all reason when I get terribly angry. Sometimes I shake too much when my anger explodes. I have no reason at all in my head when I am angry. I become a cold, cold heart when I am angry. |
| Where have I gone wrong? Did I miss the right road to where I am supposed to take? For the hundredth time, I look at my instructions:which road to take, left turn all the time, there is really not a chance I missed the instruction. Let me see: yes, I turned left a number of times as instructed; I returned the instruction back in my pocket. Again, I looked at this road I am facing. Yes, it is the right road; however, I feel it is not the right road. I feel I missed one more turning... I sat by the side of the road; next to a fencing where I can almost see a horse tied to a post across the fenced area. Should I climb over the fence? What if it is not the right place? What if this fenced off area is almost like the fenced area I am supposed to find? More questions in my mind? So, I sat down just outside the fenced-off area; and reconsider my thoughts... Ooops, what is that? Oh, my, it is the horse that I thought was at the other side of the fenced off area. Did I fall asleep? I brushed off the grass that stuck to my back. It was really not nice falling asleep, I told myself. Now, I am really going silly...Somewhere, someone beyond the fence I can just picture another human being. Yes, it is a person; he or she is yelling something, which I funnily enough I am not able to understand. So what do I do? "PUSH OFF!!!!!!" Ah, there it is; I am being told to get off ... so rudely, too... that is too bad because I do have something nice to show that shouter... It does not matter any more because I am off... elephantsealer |
| Ghosts are the products of people who have been through a whole lot of sufferring... Just imagine, for example: When the 2nd World War invaded the Philippines, many of the people, especially those living in Manila, were either killed, sent to prison where they died or were horribly suffered in the hands of the enemy through imprisonment, lack of medical aid, or were simply hacked to death. There were killings; there were imprisonments; there were people disappearing; there were lots and lots of human lives that were turned upside down. I am thinking, of course, of people who were affected by the war; by the occupation of countries by foreign troops; by the disappearance of hundreds and hundreds of young people as well as elderly who were unfortunately caught in the cruelty of Japanese occupiers. Why must there be killing? Why must there be war? What does invading one country by another become a passionate reason to kill? to plunder? to bring disaster and killing into another country? What does all these cruelty and killing give an invader the awaard of happiness and joy???? War in its own context is not meant to create a new beginning to an invader. War is a deadly thought from an Emperor, a President, or even a General of an Army. War is an evil force that one country decides upon another country. War is an evil thought created in the mind of a decaying mind; a haphazard idea created in one swift thought to destroy, to kill, to invade, to own and recreate another country to become its very own. War concocted by a human is a pretentious thought of wanting, of believing in an erroneous thought of conducting a thorough dismantling of another country. War is a one man's FALLABLE idea of PLAYING A GAME OF HIDE AND SEEK... War degrades the invader. Occupying another country for the sole purpose of turning the invaded country into its own, more like creating a country the invader decides to rule. What of the people in the invded country? What happens to them? What becomes of the culture of the invaded country? Does it survive in its purity? Or is the culture of the invaded country completely turned into what the invader makes it its own? (to be continued) |
| What is end of life? The morning was tinged with heavy clouds and the menace of a heavy storm. She did not like the morning at all. It was not what she wanted that day. There was a hint of disbelief that started to gnaw at her insides. She managed to get into the bathroom without falling. What was wrong, she asked? Her eyes were bleary. She could not focus. She reached for the sink. Alas, it slipped off her fingers. The next moment she was on her back, flat upon the cold bathroom floor. It was just heavenly to lay there and never get up... She awoke in a moving vehicle. Two white coated persons were administering something to her nose. She sneezed. Ooops, declared one of them, she is awake. She opened her eyes, realized for one single minute, she was in an ambulance, that was racing with its bells clanging much too noisy for me. I closed my eyes again, let the whitecoated person poke into my ears, my eyes, my arms, turned me slightly to my side and continued the use of instruments on my back. I thought I was awake... I was in a guerney, its wheels racing much like the ambulance's wheels turning irritantly like a rush of millions of galloons of water pouring out of a large tub. The overhead lights were rushing as well, blinking in intervals of semiblack and semiwhite. My left arm felt heavy with circles of clouds moving up and down; the pain clutched every nerve, bone and flesh that sent me screaming... I wanted to wake up. However, my head was heavy with sleep. I just wanted to sleep. Please, let me sleep... |
| It is rather sad to listen to The Cure, to her/his interpretation of a love song. She/he looked awfully sad; terribly no life at all; and almost to the brink of tears. However, I guess that was rather how they do interpret their love song, what? Now, if I was in love, I would shout it out so the world would know that now my life has become a partnership, a life of sharing and having fun. Love is something that must make one happy, full of hope and a future of a life with someone. There is hope when one finds love because now the one becomes a partner to another, a new outlook, a new beginning for two people who have come together, to love, to honor, to make plans for a brighter future. Yes, love should mean happiness. |
| Hurrah!!! Hurrah!!! Maybe now that vaccinations are going on, we may begin to breathe properly again (without masks); we may again be able to rejoin our family and friends in celebrating the eradication of such an infectious disease; and perhaps our world will again LIVE to its fullest !!! I understand that perhaps it is a bit too early to get out and celebrate; however, there is that tiny hope that our world will again become fully active in all senses of the word; and one day soon, our world will shine again, live again without the fear of getting ill or dying. I fell like I want to fly and feel the freshness of the world around me!!! Are you with me???? |
| And so the path to a new world, free of Covid-19 and all similar diseases, is now at hand, with vaccinations going on as pandemically as our world turns around. There is a hope of a life that is not restricted to distancing and masking one's face or washing one's hand diligently. Vaccinations are here, and there is a hope that EVERY ONE will commit to have the first as well as the second vaccine. It is only right, not only for one's health but also for the good of the community of people that makes up our good earth. Let us not distant ourselves from this vaccine that may become the cure to not only our illnesses but also to the sickness of the mind of many of our communities. In the long run, it is OUR WORLD, OUR COMMUNITY, OUR LIFE. Let us not DISTANT OURSELVES FROM EACH OTHER. |
| Someday soon, we shall see the bright new day that will banish from us all the worries, illnesses, and infectious diseases that brought our world into chaos. Look up, look beyond that horizon, and see the tiny ebbs of light that will bring us again the many goodness of life, living life, that is. Welcome to my world NEW WORLD, the world of living!!! |
| In a world of coronavirus, we are seemingly imprisoned within the confines of our homes. Some of us may rebel against this confinement; although some of us are quite agreeable to it. We continue to read about the surge of this disease. We are angry; we resist to follow the rules of confinement; we carry on as if there is really no virus that is making people terribly ill and dying. We are what we are, a people of conviction; a people without conscience. Why do we rebel? Why do we insist on breaking rules of good conduct? Why???? When this Covid-19 finally leave our world, we shall still continue to behave as we are: people who are prepared to justify what we always want to do; and that is, to insist on our own freedom; to think, to behave, to live. Is it worth it???? |
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