5 cups of milk a day? I don’t think it’s still ordinary with what I do on milk. For three days now I have been drinking it like water. Am I screwed?
It shows how I am as a person. When I like something, being or not, I just can’t get over it just like that. One time, I had a thing for peanut butter and I emptied 5 Skimpy (?) in a week, without a single loaf of bread. Just how inhuman is that?
And now this milk. This milk is just so addictive, same as caffeine, which by the way is, by default, my religion. Why milk?
Why not? I’d rather drink milk than stand by the door waiting for you to come. Milk is sweet even without sugar. Your efforts are nothing close to it. I’m having a cup now. And you? You cannot even look at me straight.
Faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead.
James 2:17
I opened my eyes this morning to a headline that screamed: Palace to fight rebel troops ‘fire with fire’.
Things like this do not scare me. Like any other place in the world, bad things happen in this country everyday. Each morning, I wake up to a world that has barely changed. It seems that the world, in general, never learns from its mistakes.
Why bother then? If you live in a highly troubled place, your most likely defense mechanism is indifference. Unknowingly, the youth has exactly embodied that.
Nowadays, the young generation is too pre-occupied of small things like getting the latest mobile phone model, or playing the newest interactive PC game. Although nothing is wrong with these things, comfort is known to cultivate apathy. One may flaunt his sleek Nike shoes or clad himself with shirts with famous tags, but he never realizes that an undernourished African kid walks miles bare foot to fetch water, or an 8-year old Abu Sayaff trainee has a heart as cold as the barrel of the gun he carries.
I am one lucky kid because I came from an above-average family. But I don’t think it should stop there. I should look beyond those petty things. I should understand that this world is not going to get better if I got my new i-Pod. That poor African boy will not get fed neither if I have my overpriced Starbucks coffee every afternoon. I have to open my eyes to the cold, hard facts of life. This world needs my attention, now.
I may be little, but a rain started with a single small drop and it quenched the world. From the simple obeying of rules at school, by being at peace with myself and by demonstrating simplicity in my ways, I can show to my friends that world peace needs no nuclear weapons. I should tell my friends that they should put more regard to education because arcades and bar-hopping do not make heroes out of people. I should let them see that the world’s problem is also their problem, enough of the growing apathy towards the issues but rather becoming critical with them.
Maybe it is time for us, the youth, to open our eyes, to dedicate our lives to something larger than ourselves and pleasures, to the largest thing we can: to God, to healing the sufferings, to contributing to knowledge, to adding to literature, or something else. Annie Dillard said happiness lies this way and it beats pleasure hollow.
Whatever little difference I would make may not change the world. But I have opened my eyes and it will never close again. Who knows, that may change tomorrow’s headline.
I am nobody’s weasel
Amelie
I am a nobody.
My days are loitered in aimless pursuit of something unknown. My purpose is undefined, constrained only by what is impossible and not by what is reasonable. I don’t think someone understands this.
I live my day wanting so hard not to end it without some sort of cataclysmic occurrence. If I can only stop another sunset just to give me time to figure this all out. I reckon and continue on reckoning. Is there anything at the end of this entire chase? Like some sort of oasis on an arid desert?
I am semi-hopeless, hopping on risky fences of illusion and disillusion, between enlightenment and darkness. It is sad somebody leaves me hanging like a loose thread on a poorly sewn shirt. I don’t think I am capable of holding myself against the fitful behavior of somebody. I want to regain equilibrium.
I am a nobody I said. I am not being lowly, but it is a sick fact about me.
I am the bigger disappointment over somebody’s disappointment. I am not appropriate for somebody because I am a mess in my own right. What I need is a total fix. I am screwed.
I am mistake incarnate. I flop, always. I say the wrong words. I stir bad emotions. I misunderstand and misinterpret the most honest lines. I listen to the wrong mouth. I shut myself away from genuine intentions. I wallow on mundane things. I think too much of my self. I hate myself for all of these.
I want to go back to orange-chrome days, when purpose burns fast like cigarette. I want to define myself according to my terms and not of somebody else. I want to be heard like I always was. I want to speak less but be heard more. I want to end all these uselessness that has cradled me like a long lost friend.
I am writing now my letter of resignation to indifference, to broken promises and false hopes. I am giving away myself to the recesses of my core, to what makes me real. I am foregoing of the things which bother me or make me feel sick.
I am a good person. If God loves me, He should surround me with people who I like and who likes me in return. Maybe it is time for self-redemption. It is time for stopping my general hatred to the world.
But it is time now to spell things with joy, of returning to what I love most no matter diminutive. It is time to go back to things that matter, to gather my senses and realize how much I have truly wasted or not done.
Maybe my purpose and somebody’s purpose on me is strange. How can I talk when I don’t even know what to say or define what I have to say?
20 something, quarter-life crisis, loss of love, name it, nothing's weird.
