Wednesday, January 18, 2012

If we can only love our parents enough.

Kasama ng mga aso, kuting at mga matatanda e isa pa sa mga kahinaan ko e ang mga magulang ko. Tuwing pamilya at mga magulang ko na ang pinaguusapan, wala akong ibang masasabi kundi napakaswerte ko. Nakakatuwang isipin na merong kakayahan ang taong maging mapagmahal, mapag-unawa, mapagbigay at mapagpatawad sa sukdulan ng paglimot na sa sarili. Kaya kung nagiinarte kang hindi mo na kako mahahanap ang truelove mo, nako neng puro ka kasi lablayp e ano palang tawag mo sa pagmamahal na ibinibigay sayo ng mga magulang mo?

Maiksi lang ang buhay, pahalagahan natin sila hanggang may oras at panahon pa tayo na pwede natin silang alagaan, ipagsandok ng tanghalian, ilibre ng kahit  isang supot lang ng kropek, kwentuhan ng mga ginagawa mo sa araw araw mong pagpasok sa eskwelahan o sa trabaho, at kung ano ano pa.

Wala ng mas sasarap pa sa pagmamahal ng magulang, naramdaman mo yan, kaya sana, iparamdam mo rin sa kanila ang pagmamahal ng anak na para sa kanila naman e ang pinakamasarap.

Puro ka kasi sarili mo lang, tandaan mo hindi lang ikaw ang tumatanda, pati mga magulang mo din.

Si ermat tsaka erpat. :)


Sa mundong punong puno ng pampalaway, imposibleng manatiling kontento. Lahat tayo may gusto, may kinaiinggitan. Ako mismo meron din. Sino bang hindi may gustong pumogi o gumanda siya ng kahit ilang megabytes lang? Wala. Kahit nga yung mga nuknukan na ng ganda e todo pa rin ang pagpapaganda tayo pa kayang mga, (ahem) mababait?

Hindi ako maniniwala kung sasabihin mong kuntento ka na sa mga bagay na meron ka na ngayon, kung kuntento ka na e bakit ka pa nag-aaral? Hindi ka pa ba masayang marunong ka na mag-plus at subtract, kakaririn mo pa ang calculus at physics? Kung kuntento ka na e bakit ka pa kumakain, hindi ka pa ba masaya na nabuhay ka na ngayong araw na toh at hihirit ka pang mabuhay ng mas madami pang araw? Kung kuntento ka na e bakit ka pa gumagamit ng  glutathione, tawas, uling na ipinapangmahid sa balat, at kung ano ano pang pampaputi, hindi ka pa ba masayang kahit papaano e hindi transparent ang kulay ng balat mo? E kasi nga hindi ka pa kuntento, walang kakuntentuhan ang tao, at pagnanais, hindi matatapos yun.

So ayun, ninenok na ng antok yung karne sa bungo ko, so ayun nga. Chu.

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Just my brain.

I wander more often than I talk. I’m not really a sociable person, its not that I refuse companionships, I just prefer to be alone more often than not.

When I am alone, I contemplate more about the things happened and still happening in my life. It’s like my everyday dose of scanning my system to preempt future eradicates. Funny it may seem but I feel like I’m doing a monologue of my own gossip girl episode, it’s like I’m disk jockeying my own radio station, the only peculiar thing is I am also the listener, and actually, an avid listener.

School and stuffs are what’s keeping me still in this specific set of mind. I don’t know but I feel like if I lose focus on trimming the insignificants off of the brim, it will all be pathetic, and so am I. There are instances that I already see myself one heck of a perfectionist. I’m trying to avoid being one as much as possible, but the more I chase for what the norm is telling me, the more I drastically become the childish OC who sobs at very minimal mistakes and find every plain situation their ruthless woes.

Fictioneering. That’s what this muscle in my skull is exactly doing. I can’t blame her (or it) if that’s what she’s doing unintentionally, for at the very first place this insane little girl told her to intentionally do things in her way.

This will not go any further than mediocre. Maybe I’m just tired of all this rambling things happening in my life, and so yeah, I’m trying to put things into perspective by making sure they will all be done perfectly.

Maybe I’m just off course of my sanity, pretty not much ready for a fine conversation yet. This had been gone bland, frank and unviable, but yeah, thank you for wasting some 5 minutes of your time.

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

The Real Meaning of Life.

I have been reading that book for almost 2 weeks now. It’s just a simple little orange book written by, or much appropriate to say, compiled by David Seaman. It’s a book engraved with various voices from various people around the globe sharing their perceptions, beliefs, ideals, contradicts and argues regarding what life really means. It started on October 10, 2004 when NYU Freshmen Seaman was sitting, laptapping in a coffee shop at New York City, trying to avoid writing a paper for his humanities class, typed “What is the meaning of life?” into an online forum, and to his surprise, thousands of people responded to his query. Amused by how people reacted on his thread, he decided to compile some of the interesting, inspiring, entertaining and some of the funny posts he received giving birth to the book I am now pondering into.

The real meaning of life can be compared to a jar of cookie that comes in similar sizes and shapes, but differs in taste and flavor. People differ in races, status, genres, religions etc. but they are all the same, we are all the same. We have one creator, we have one life to live, one death to breathe, we have the same physiological components, we have one earth sharing together and that we have one air to consume, one biosphere to nourish and degrade. Biologically, that what make us creatures, but existence doesn’t end in merely breathing in dying.

We all have minds, but each uniquely differs in the way of facilitation, we all have emotions, but it’s not the same specific stimulus that flows through those billions of neurons our body has, we all have eyes, but ironically, it’s not the same thing we see even with the same object. We have God, we know God, but we don’t have the same religion, there are Catholics, Buddhist, Christians, Taoist, and sorts, each single one of them teaches the same objectives, the only difference is their approach, but they’re praising the same Lord. We have straights, homosexuals, lesbians, gays, and bi-s but we are all the same creatures God breathed upon Eve and Adam on the book of Genesis.  As Humanity explains, people are pieces of puzzle that differs in color and fits and are all subject in one single aggregation, but never serve the same purpose. And that, the combination of two is what the meaning of life is to me.

You are the only exact copy of yourself, your friend can’t be like you, your siblings can’t be like you, you and only you can do all the things you can, can think all the things you thought, can aspire all the things you dream, can feel all the emotions you are capable of feeling regarding of the stimulus you based them upon. You are unique, you are peculiar. Are you special? That’s when the debate will be brought about. I don’t believe that that we are all special, for if in a basket of apples, red and green are considered both special, which else is not special? How come there will be specials if there is no one not special?

You can be a writer, a sculpture, an architect, engineer, singer, priest, nun, actress, pilot, faith healer, drug lord, mafia, philanthropist, that and this. You can be anyone you want, as long as you want to, as long as you pursue being that person you want to become. But at the end of the day, life does end, and all the hardships you’ve done will be soon forgotten, in that case, where’s the specialness? For what are all the sweats you’ve shed when appreciation for all the things you’ve done will vanish together with your doom? We are not immortals, we think yes, we love yes, but that doesn’t make us special enough to not die, for we’re not any superior even in the simplest bacteria this earth has.

God will always be the bottom line of everything, and that he sees through you, more than anyone can ever see you. He loves us all and his love makes the journey here on earth special.

We all will die, and so what’s the purpose of living then? Its purpose is to find its purpose, to find your purpose. God created you not just to be someone insignificant, you serve some purpose and its always depends on you on how you find for them, and no matter what, you are meant to be happy in any ways possible. Life is just too short to merely contemplate on the deepest explanations of what the real meaning really is. You want to live a happy life? Stop searching for its meaning.