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.
December 29, 2014 at 3:13am
The New Year
|As we leave the month of December in the year of 2014, we tend to think back and remember what we did that made 2014 special to us.
What did we do to make our life more interesting to write about?
We made writing the focus of our life. We struggled to write fiction, nonfiction, perhaps some autobiography, or even a novel. We determined to keep our writing specially significant, to show how much we have grown, how far we have learned the meaning of showing and not of telling. We have decided to accomplish something that is dear to our hearts: that our writing has grown in stature, in truth, in honesty.
We are, in a sense, looking at how much writing has taken charge of our life. We have dreamed, we have tried to accomplish something that we thought was a mere idea, and made that dream a part of our life. We have succeeded in learning the very heart of writing, and we thought we have embraced that writing as part of our life - for the coming year, 2015.
And so, we now welcome the new year. Are we ready to accomplish more to make our writing much, much more a part of our life this coming new year? Are we ready to continue learning more about the writing, the publishing, the submission, the editing? Are we ready to do more than dream?
Let's do it!!!
December 6, 2014 at 1:08am
Is There A Heart That Doesn't Cry?
|Today I saw him again: a young man, awfully looking thin in his black shirt and pants, begging by the side of the road.
I hated myself for not stopping to talk to him. I cried because I didn't go near him, thinking it might not be "safe" for me. I despised my reaction because I was plain selfish and a hypocrite.
The first time I saw him I thought of my grandson. How terrible it was for me if that young man was my grandson. How did this young boy get to that situation? Why was he begging? Why wasn't he in school? Why? Why? Did he run away from home? Did he have a mother? Did he have a family? Where were they, why did they let this young boy beg and go hungry?
"Are you all right?" asked my husband when I got home.
My emotions got hold of me, and I just flopped down and gave in to tears. Flabbergasted, my husband stood in silence, listening to my "bubble". Many minutes later I calmed down, and I told him what happened on my drive home.
"I understand your frustration," he said. "Remember, though, that young boy may prefer to beg."
"How can you say that? He looked as if he had no "meat" on, so thin and gangly, as if he had had no food for such a long time."
"He probably had an argument with his family, and decided to prove to them he can live without them."
"That was not like him at all, the way he looked. His eyes were expressionless; he didn't smile when someone handed him money, just nodded at the guy in the car. He didn't look aggressive because he merely sat by the side of the road, looking lost and forlorn."
"Maybe he is all alone in the world," added my husband, as he tried to give reason to the young boy's situation.
"But surely, there must be agencies that are able to find such people and take them in and give them help?"
"There are lots and lots of reasons that he ended up begging. But I'm sure you cannot blame yourself for what happened to him."
"I'm not, I felt so guilty for not stopping, for not strong enough to talk to him, for not giving him a chance to tell me all about him."
"Would you like me to drive you back where he is, so you can talk to him?"
When we got to the place, the young man was no longer there. I asked the shop owner if he noticed the young boy, begging in front of his shop. But the shop owner said he did notice him, however, he got rather busy with his customers he didn't see him leave.
I looked for him at the side of road every day since, but I never saw him again.
November 11, 2014 at 12:04am
What Matters Most
|A few days ago I learned my grandson became heart broken because his friend left him.
He is a talented and sensitive boy, and he has a tendency to lose control of his emotions. He gets attached to a friend, and when that friend 'leaves' him, he gets terribly emotional. He tends to keep things to himself.
He is fortunate in that his mother cares and loves him, and is always 'on hand' to help him through his emotional upheavals.
I remember my teenhood days when I got emotional and thoughts of 'leaving home' crowd my mind. I have, in fact, 'ran' away from home a number of times, but because I was young and didn't understand the need for finances when alone in the streets; so I ultimately got back home.
I believe many of our teenagers roaming the streets, who have left home because of some disagreements with family members, are not aware that 'leaving home' is the worst they can think of. I believe being young is the hardest part of a child's growing up. They have the tendency to act impulsively, and to blame others first before turning to themselves and scrutinizing the whole episode of what happened, how things got very 'heated', and why they should calm down and think hard before deciding to 'leave home'.
As adults, we have gone through all the emotional upheavals that teenagers get into; and as adults, we tend to forget that we were young once. It is easy to deny we did not get angry and frustrated with our parents when we were teens. But the fact is we got in trouble because of our youth.
It is not to say that young people don't think; but there is that element of defiance that becomes the root of disagreement; or shall we say, the beginning of conflict. There are fortunately youth who have the ability to control their emotions; and there are more of them as compared to those who unfortunately believe they have been wronged; and therefore they must either 'leave home' to get away from the frustration and disagreements in the home or find a way to waste their life and therefore their future.
I understand the difficulty of having children, caring for them through their daily, growing lives, and for parents to realize that one day they have not given the best care and love to their children, who decide to do drugs, to steal, to waste their life on the streets. When parents ask themselves the question: 'what did I do to my children?', as adults we come to the conclusion we have not given them the best care and love they deserve.
Our children deserve to be loved, to be cared for no matter how they turn out, to be shielded from harm, to be sheltered from horror, to be fed, to be LOVED. Isn't that the reason why we have children?
October 22, 2014 at 12:03am
|Years ago if someone suggested I take a cruise, my answer would be a definite NO!!! But as things go there are times we learn to change our attitude. And I did so when I went on a short cruise.
I took hold of myself and prepared things I may need should I get terribly sick onboard. I took with me prescription tablets as well as something I know would help me in any "sickening" situation: a bagful of ginger - the only item that helps me when I feel sick in a moving vessel.
As it happened, the four-day cruise to Alaska was great. I did not even feel sick at all - even when I felt a small movement of the ship as I toured and visited the different areas. I amazed myself.
Then, I went on another cruise that really gave me the "heaves". On our cruise out of New York to Canada, there was a big storm - and it rocked the ship. And that's when I swore again never to do another cruise.
It actually took another year or so for my husband to convince ma to go on another cruise. This time on a ship that is bigger and better equipped when a storm hits.
And I'm glad I took another cruise because sometime in the new year, I am off on another cruise to visit all the islands in the Hawaiian peninsula.
I am now a mariner of some sort!!!
October 12, 2014 at 4:25am
Cruising Down the River
|I was in a cruise recently. There was an incident that caught my interest. People who go on cruises are good eaters. They fill dining rooms almost every hour of the day, looking for food. There are those who hate vegetables. They look at the greens and make faces, as if the taste of the green, leafy, vegetables are poison. There are those who turn their nose on fried food. There are also people who are not satisfied with what they eat. They are forever complaining, either on how the food is cooked or uncooked or why the food is not served on time!!!!
Then, there are those who love nothing but beef. They would touch nothing but beef, no matter how palatable other meats are. Beef is good when it is uncooked, when blood is still dripping from the flesh. Beef is the food of the rich and therefore, one should only feast on beef.
Also, there are cruise-goers who only eat in the dining room upstairs, where they are served and pampered by waiters; and they don't have to line up to pick their food. The food is served to them. There are also people who think the cruise ship is a place where they can command the attention of waiters/room attendants. They don't bother to say "thank you" and "please".
Cruise ships are great but then comes the accidents. People forget to get back from excursions and miss the sailing time. The cruise ship stops at places where people leave the ship for about two/three hours to see and enjoy amenities on land, which means away from the ship for only a short time. They know the time the ship sails but some forget and they are left stranded on land!!!!
Cruising is great, if only everything is perfect!!!!!
October 12, 2014 at 3:49am
A Work of Art
|Writing is an art. It tells a story, paints a picture of the characters in the story, and gives meaning to the story.
A story is a recount of an idea that may have come from a dream, an event that happened, a thought that occurred in a flash. A story is written to tell the beginning of an idea, goes on to explain how the idea becomes alive, and finally completes the story by showing how the problem (in the idea) is solved.
A story is a painting when it shows the colorful life of the characters in the story, the dark side of the characters, the good side of the characters, and the unexpected solutions to the problems in the story.
A story gives meaning to the idea, expands the horizon of readers, allows readers to understand how the idea becomes reality, probably changes the opinion of readers as to the meaning of the story, and at some point, the story becomes a pleasure to read, an enjoyment in the purest sense.
September 18, 2014 at 1:55am
The Way Home
|I heard her today, again. She was in her room. Praying. Or just whispering, I supposed so I won't hear her.
"Please, Lord, let him come home to me; very soon before I die."
It was a plea, from a mother who had years of waiting, waiting for a son to return. She never wavered in her belief, that the son who said goodbye many years before to seek his fortune in the world, her son was ever going to come home. Her heart said he was alive - somewhere out there - and that he was ready to come home.
I tiptoed away from Mom's bedroom door. My heart was heavy because I had no more words of comfort for her. I'd exhausted every word in the dictionary to ease her pain. I'd helped her make contact with people who were expert in finding the lost. I'd read every newspaper, journal, text that was available, to support her in finding my brother.
All through my high school years, my college years, the years I spent developing my career in journalism - all through the past years I gave to Mom, years I should have enjoyed but years I devoted to comfort her and support her to find her son. I didn't consider them "lost years" because I loved her. I never complained; never said a word to discourage her. I prayed for her during all these past years - now that her life is fading away from her.
She'd lay in bed, staring and seeing only the shadowy image of her son. She'd forgotten how he looked, how old he was when he left. She'd go through all his letters, notes, and postcards - and loving birthday cards - and she'd cry her heart out. She always prayed. She never lost hope. She'd see the morning light with a smile and a bright hope - one day her son would knock on the door, and he'd give her a surprise. And there was going to be a big celebration, a thanksgiving party for the return of her son.
I heard her as she came out of her bedroom. The wrinkles on her face were like patterns of crossed lines, that hid the beauty that was Mom's in her young years. Her hair had thinned into fine lines of greys. Her steps were slow, like staggered stages of steps climbing a mountain. But her eyes were clear, glassy at times when she teared but her eyes were alert, bright, and expectant. There was hope in her eyes, a never-ending expectation that tomorrow is another day to pray for the return of a son.
September 1, 2014 at 3:02am
What Is It That Makes Us Happy?
|One of the things that makes us happy is a celebration of a birthday. We love to remember our birth date, the day we became a person.
When we are reminded that we were a mere "twinkle" in the eye of either our father or mother, we tend to think of ourselves as products of misconception. The joke, of course, is on us -- because we began as nothing more than an idea. There is nothing wrong about an idea because it is the beginning of a good thing.
Like being born as a girl or a boy, and growing up to be an adult! And going to school and learning all the goodness of the world, goodness we take and use to guide us to become -- as much as possible - a perfect human being.
In a normal world, we are led to believe in the goodness of the heart; in the kindness of action, and in the completion of a plan. We start with an idea and we progress into a plan of action. In order for the plan of action to be completed, we must learn to obey the rules of action, to adhere to guidelines that would eventually lead us to a satisfactory conclusion of the plan.
The idea of the "twinkle" in the eye then becomes a person, a human with a heart, an individual with a sense of correctness, a "twinkle" of love that becomes a birthday celebrant.
Who among us will say that celebrating one's birthday is not a happy occasion?
Not I, said the celebrant!!!
August 13, 2014 at 3:02am
A Question of Worth
|Today, the 12th of August, 2014, we learn of the death of Robin Williams. We are saddened because of the way he died -- he hanged himself.
We ask ourselves why? All the goodness, all the laughter he shared with others, all his life he shared with his family, all of these and more - what a waste! We question his action, hanging himself. It must have taken at least a number of minutes to die, to struggle for breath, to lose consciousness. Did Robin Williams commit suicide because he is crazy? Because only a crazed mind would go through a hanging.
We are sad because we are not quite sure why he killed himself. We hear of drugs, of alcoholism, of pain, of a life that is filled with struggle to keep sane. What is the purpose of all the laughter he shared with people? What is it that made him choose to end his life? Why? Why? Why?
It is such a cruel thing to do - not only to his family but a shameful act of betrayal to all of us who became his fans, and who adored him for his ability to make us laugh. We enjoyed him. We laughed with him. We shared the product of his mind. We loved him for what he was and not for what he became - a coward. Because killing himself was a most hideous act, a sure thing he had no talent at all, that what he was in life was nothing but a hypocrite, that he was a just a pretender, that he made us believe he was talented but in fact he was just a nobody pretending to be somebody.
Yes, we are saddened. We have been cheated. We have been looking up to someone we thought was a good person. We have been misled to adore him. We have been led to believe he was someone we could hold as a person whose intellect are worthy to be admired. We wasted our admiration and love to someone whose life was a waste!!!
Why Robin Williams? Did you think killing yourself would take away the bad taste in our mouth? Did you think it was clever to hang yourself so you can die? You are such a cruel individual. You made us believe you are good, you are the best among all those individuals in your field of work. Now it turns out you are a dummy, a mere pretender, a very sad person who is not worthy of admiration and love.
What a waste. Yes, Robin Williams, you are just a waste!!!!
|The days of soccer in Brazil are now finished. We look back and realize we have enjoyed ourselves so very much we actually forgot to watch other TV shows!!! It is worth it, though because we did not have to contend with "commercials", which we condemn as "pitiful, a waste of money, and really worthless".
The excitement of watching a game of soccer is something magical and far more enjoyable than a lousy commercial. With the technology we now enjoy, we are able to record shows we love, and eliminate the commercials altogether. Recording and forwarding are such encouraging rules that we use - just so we can get rid of commercials!!!
Take, for example, when we are watching a part of a show, and suddenly a commercials comes on, cutting off our vision of what happens when our interest is at a peak. Don't we hate that? Yes, we do. Commercials are there because the station says so; and no matter how we hate it, they are going to come up and spoil our interest in a show. But thank goodness we have an item we can push and get rid of commercials. We wonder. Do stations know their commercials are plain bothersome?
We were awfully glad, though, those commercials practically melted into nothing by just a flip of a botton!!!
In the meantime, let's have more soccer!!!
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