journey to blogs past

Kaleidoscope
Isn’t it always a nice surprise to find something extraordinary and special from something so ordinary? You turn it just an inch to the left, and you see the shapes take a form. Now, turn it again however you please. Do you recognize it? Do you wonder how many turns you will have to make to get the same image you saw earlier? Now, wouldn't you be enthralled if it were a person? I know I would.
(May 2, 2007)

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Bummette
Sept. 5. 6pm. I am officially a bummette.

Bummette ~ (lazyious bumius of the family sofa patata) the female gender of the belly-scratching, sofa-deforming, burden to the society. Only, we look good doing it.

Gone are the days of worrying about what to wear to the office, and the days of reason to be corporate-ishly correct. Somehow it just doesn’t feel the same prancing around the house, without the aircon on, in your month’s-worth-salary skirt (or even just half a month’s worth) trying to reach those heaven-only-knows-how-my-mother-ever-did-reach-them corners where I see some faint movement of something that has accumulated over the last few months. Ack! That self-adopted dustball pet of ours has figured out a life of its own and is now playing tag with the broom. Come here you little swat!!! RRRRIIIPPPP!!! Ohmigoodness! Did I just hear what I thought I heard?
(May 3, 2007)

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Deja Vu
It’s an episode he has seen a dozen of times as he stands watch from his station – a kiss on the cheek, a hug that doesn’t want to end, and the difficulty of letting go.

She’s a grandmother, swamped by her grown up sons and daughters sending her off at the airport, kissing her, hugging her tight, not wanting to let go. This doesn’t look like her first time traveling far away from her family, yet, it looks like she’s not looking forward to reaching her destination.

He’s familiar with this scene, and quite bored with it, but at the corner of his eyes, something else draws his attention.

There’s nothing extraordinary about what was going on. No dramatic lines, no long speeches, no grandiose set up, and yet it’s a scene that was touching at her heart, especially as she was seeing her trying not to cry and inconspicuously wiping away the tears forming at her eyes. Nevertheless, dramatic because it’s a real life event and because the characters involved were playing real roles and acting out real emotions.

She has always thought of the airport as a cold place. This is where goodbyes happen ~ quick ones, tired goodbyes, happy ones, excited glees, as well as teary and sad goodbyes. She’s also had her fair share of farewells. But the scene with the grandma tugs at her heart and gives her a new sense of emotion, albeit brief, about the airport. As her line moves forward, she wakes up from her reverie to the sad fact that here she is again at the airport, a place she has lost count of how many times she has passed through hurriedly and knows like the back of her hand.

How she wishes she was the grandmother instead. Yet, here she is also at the airport, only, there was no one swamping her with kisses and hugs. She moves along the line, expression masked and face unreadable, trying to appear unmoved by the scene. But for a split second, a slight trace of loneliness and longing appear on her beautiful face, evident only to those who know, and the observant.

She contemplates for a moment which one is better.

As she watches the drama unfold before her eyes, she fails to notice she’s also being watched. And he was not fooled.
(May 9, 2007)

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Nobody told me…
Nobody told me, that one day I would take the backseat, to someone, who would be so close relative-ly, yet far.

Nobody told me, that I would recall memories that were supposed to make me smile, as if somebody died.

Nobody told me, that I would be looked over in thank-you speeches at the most life-changing event of one’s life, even when I was relative-ly one of the VIPs.

Nobody told me how much it would hurt when it actually happens.

Who said what you don’t know won’t hurt you? They sure had no idea what they were talking about.

Let me tell you…

That family does not always mean the one that you were born into.

That you have to tell that person your intentions, no matter how close and ending-sentence capable you both are.

That it hurts when you feel neglected, are overlooked and ignored, especially when you were asked to sacrifice something for them.

That being too nice makes you boring and easily passed over.

And lastly…

That I am not a know-it-all… just some. I am still learning, from what nobody has told me, so that I can tell you.
(May 12, 2007)

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Fight or flight?
Where do you draw the line? Do you fight for it? Or do you let go? I look at the ones that fight a losing battle, and I pity them, for not seeing the futility of it all. I look at the ones that fight and win, and I admire them, and wish I could have the same courage. I look at the ones who let go, and admire them for their bravery in sacrificing their self in the process. I look at the ones that let go, and pity them, because they will be forgotten in the aftermath. So, who wins? The fighter? Or the one that lets go?
(May 14, 2007)