on a lighter note...

the sparkle in your eyes
                     said it all.
words, suddenly,
lost all their meaning.
          dumbfounded.
mute.       scrambling, lost.
but words were not necessary,
that day.                 only sight
                                           and seeing.

emotions                              and feeling
a little of touch
                      a little of smell
                                           a dash of hearing

just a little

else everything in my overflowing
heart
                       spills all over the unworthy floor.

happy ninth.

walang kwentang review

and so i finally, FINALLY happens. i had been wondering why it hasnt set in yet, maybe, by some great luck, i had skipped that phase... only to collide with it head-on a few moments later.
of course im still talking about school and the blasted review class im taking for my exams. three weeks down and just when i thought i had finally found my rhythm, i wake up monday morning and found myself not being able to recall ANYTHING from the past two weeks. not only could i not recall anything, but the drive i had been banking on to push me till the end was all of a sudden, absent. the surging spring that was once gushing up within me was dry. all i was left with was my naked self, vacant, clueless and to a certain degree, stupefied. i was like "WTF happened?!" i got to work still feeling rather blank, and when i got to class later hat evening and saw my classmate buried till their noses in their notes, i started to get REALLY worried. there's something wrong.... i can FEEEEELLLLL IT!!!!

a few moments later, in comes the lecturer. her credentials say she topped the exams during her time, which wasnt that long ago. i even think i recall reading she graduated with honors in the country's top university.... whatever they may be, however colorful her academic resume may sound.... i really cant see any of it in her way of lecturing. even more depressing, when she teaches, i feel i get stupider by the minute. i cant seem to even think about the subject while listening to her. now, to add more insult to her slow torture, she decides to give a surprise quiz. needless to say, i failed miserably. blank brain, blank paper. if this happened when i was still in school, i would have never been able to live with myself... but now in review class, while i supposed to be surrounded by the freshest products of the best universities in the metro, while im supposed to be inspired by all this youth and the prospects of a thriving design industry.... i instead am finding myself dejected and, well, drained.

fear is slowly setting in. to think that i had survived what was supposed to be the THIRD most difficult exams given in the country (we had a national passing rate of 21%), i am slowly finding that i am getting more anxious with this one instead.

lord... help me.

writing the exams

i'm finally talking to my classmates, though i still dont know their names.

yesterday was my first taste of the design class wherein we are giving a client profile and a set of requirements to fulfill. we are then given 9 hours to complete everything. i am happy to say i survived day 1 though i think i will have deductions for the quality of my work. even if it has been the suggestion of previous lecturers that it is more important to finish everything, rather than submit a few exemplary work, it really wouldnt have mattered since my brain was spitting garbage anyways. we were supposed to color our drawings and all i could do was wash the entire piece in a sea of beige. it was sooooooo mediocre it hurt. i found myself questioning, how in the WORLD can i call myself a designer if i design like this.

i couldnt help looking around at other peoples work and i found myself get more dejected. 4 years of actual practice hasnt shown in my work. i truth, it looked like i lived in a design hole for all that time, a practical death sentence to any designer since trends get churned out every millisecond! whats the latest craze today may be the dying fad tomorrow... and i certainly felt nothing CRAZE-worthy with my output.

of course i try to pacify myself. a full-time day job in the auto-spare parts biz, sideline interior design work, articles, family, lovelife, and miscellaneous errands, coupled with studying for the exams, isnt the easiest thing to do.... then again, i am just pacifying myself and i think my ego need none more.

i honestly dont know why the exams are this important. i just know they are. i just know i have to take it. of course my profession or my person doesnt depend on it. i had already learned that from taking my first exam, many years before, but i guess taking the exams this time is more for ending what i had started when i decided to go into design. the exams would be the clear cut moment when i can tell myself that i am or had fully invested myself when i took this course.

from the looks of my work, i may not be the most brilliant, nor the most artistic, but that shouldnt bother me anymore. i work because i like it. taking the exams is just another project. i just hope it doesnt kill me in the end... coz i feels like it sometimes :)

pardon for the post. my brain hasnt fully recovered from yesterdays exam yet.

Another driving post

I cannot recall how often i have mentioned about my bitter-sweet relationship with driving. Although i cannot part myself with the obvious advantages of being able to shuttle myslef, at my own leisure from point A to B, i also cannot seem to get over the fact that it drives me crazy sometimes being behind the wheel, almost to points when i would find myself palpitating and close to screaming till my dog's eardrums hurt.

I have always wished i was a calm driver, someone who remains unfazed when jeepneys swerve unmindful of other vehicles, when pedestrians lazily cross as if theyre impurvious to on-coming metal, when pedicabs, motorbikes, dogs, cats, the occasional rats simple occupy the road without any consideration that death in the city comes with 4 wheels and xenon headlights. How i wish i could just be overwhelmed in my own zen rather that wishing for the most unfortunate of scenarios for those who would find themselves in the most unlucky of places, in my war path, for that is often the case when i drive. My route is my battle. Apart from rare sundays and pacquiao fighting on the idiot-box, my route always feels like driving in a video game.... Maddening.

More often than not, i drive with the radio off. I learned that music influences my mood, especially when i am most volatile when behind the wheel. I however give in when listening to classical music since, i thought, surely orchestral music can sooth my troubked driving soul. It did initially, until you get to fast paced, high-octane pieces that is, then its almost listening to heavy metal as well (brass... Heavy metal indeed). So im back to having the hum of my engine as my background noise. Imagine what would happen if they suddenly play VERDI!!!!

This morning, i tried doing what i used to do before, that is to sing. I think it worked since i got to the office with the slightest bit of agitation. I guess ill try this for a couple of days. Dont worry, il keep it soft. Im sure the weather wouldnt mind.

Choices

Basing from my personal experience, God often speaks to me in a very soft, and quiet way. I guess He expects that, since i am the naturally introspective type, that it would only be amatter of time before i would hear what He has to say to me. On the other occasions however that i have been lagging on my regular self analysis, God would exercise (tho rarerly, i must point out) a level of impatience and speak with a louder voice, making sure that even deaf ears can hear, particularly mine.

I guess it was a growing voice within me, a soft but persitent nudging that started it all. Again, my views about my identity, me, and my homosexuality was put under scrutiny, and like how i was many years ago, i find myself at a lost of answers.

I would like to think that i have made peace with what i am, but with how things are presently, i dont think i had been thorough. I cannot deny that i am to a great degree happy at my current situation. I am out to a lot of ppl and am blessed by their unprejudiced acceptance of me. I have close family members who know i am gay too and have taken me just as i am. I have found someone to love and who loves me back. I am surrounded by great and supportive friends, gay and straight. What else is there not to be happy about? However, i still cannot say that i feel complete. Though i cannot complain of the blessing i have been given, a part of me still feel that there is something amiss with it all.

I turn to God for enlightment often when i am faced with situations like this, but unlike when i was still searching for the real me, many year ago, i am a bit defensive now whenever i am face to face with my Master. i find that my mind braces for an arguement and fellowship with God often becomes uncomfortable, and consequently, brief and dry. I knew there was something wrong, but i didnt want to address it just yet. I guess i was fearful to do so. Fearful that in exchange for what i seek, God would ask me what i dread Him to ask, for me to choose.

I don't believe God is cruel. On the contrary, my faith in His unlimited goodness is what keeps me to Him. The problem obviously is with me. My short sightedness, my self righteousness, my pride, my self, and my very strong mind. A verse from Revelation comes to mind, how God stands at the door and knocks, and whoever oepns the door, He will come in. I hear the knocking, i hear the pounding, but i choose to speak to God thru the peep hole instead, distrustful of His intentions, unwilling to let Him have His way with me, even if in my mind, I know this is what i have to do.

falling again

there has been a question that, for the longest time, i had fears of asking. i have always known how critical i am, especially with myself, and though answering this question may come so easy or so simple to many, it is not too so with me. i always believe to always answer truthfully, honestly, and unless i can qualify, quantify, justify my answers, then i rather avoid the question altogether, lest make an erroneous, even worse, a false answer.

what is love?

the question hurts for though my mind and my faith and even life experiences can give me many ways of responding, i cannot, in my opinion give a solid answer. i may have accounts of it, ideas of it, stories of it, but if i were to extract from my own personal experiences, then i feel i draw from a deep and empty well. i don't think i am love-less. i however feel that my mind often, sad as it is for me to admit, get in the way of feeling. maybe when made to draw from my well, i do so with the slotted basket of my mind, always open to suggestion or to new thought, never really tightly grasping onto rather complex and profound ideas such as love.

i often shudder at the thought, often when lost in deep introspection. my deeper self would ask how much do i love and i always find myself at a lost for words. i am caught speechless ever time, and the weight that i often carry myself, always severe, always calculating, would suddenly get dropped and i am left without defense, naked, frail and bare, vulnerable to the harsh reality of my shallow existence, subject to my own chastising now of never learning to appreciate, enjoy, cherish the many affections that come my way. that i had allowed myself to even have these pass me by, fall through the cracks of my slotted basket, into the deep well that is my unquenchable heart. what then, my deeper voice would ask eventually, would you offer when it is your turn to love? when you have nothing but empty gesture, hollow thoughts, and vanity to your credit.

my mind is a powerful, yet a dangerous thing. but i am slowly learning, that the heart can be as well.

in the quiet moments of my reverie, on the rare occasions when my mind is exhausted, my heart quivers. it skips, even if a little to the dream of having you wrapped with my arms, your read resting on my chest, your body's weight pressing on mine, and for the very few occasions, my body relinquishes its need to be strong and allow itself to be lost in your small power. how lovely it is drown in you, that i do not struggle but feel an overwhelming sense of rest. it is death in its sweetest form. a lovely execution, smothered by your affection, suffocated in your tenderness. i could stay here forever, until my mind awakens again and he slowly leads me away, loosening my embrace, tightening again the reins.

what is love? i know a little bit of it now. my mind tells me of its greatness but i once had nothing to substantiate it, that was, until i once again find myself falling, quickly, gently back into you, deep into your overflowing well. there is love. i hope you find it in me too.

the possession

the possession. pencil. 5.24.2011