Another Move.

A new space.

A new breathing room.

And it's gonna be all mine.

Soon.

[Currently listening to...]

**Hit the PAUSE button of the player currently playing at the bottom of this page before playing the mixes I am currently listening to.

It ought to make sense, right...?

=)

Guess what I'm trying to say is that I just can't help smiling to myself...
Everything is going smoothly. I'm exactly where I want to be.
And life still is crazy... It's much nicer nowadays, but still crazy.

I'm lovin' it.

Smiling like a schoolgirl in torn jeans... =)

"Come on get higher..."

- Matt Nathanson

There's always a tune you'd love to play in your head for the whole day.
There's always this certain scene in a movie or tv series that you keep playing in your mind over and over.
And always, there's this one person you think of each time you hum that tune and picture yourself in that particular scene you've always tucked in the back of your mind.

It could be a guilty pleasure,
or a secret infatuation for what could've or should've been,
or a childish whim,
or probably an amusing thought,
or it could be something else altogether...
something surreal,
but oh so real in your imagination...

When you think about it, there is that certain feeling of coming home... to an old memory.

It's simply nostalgic. Like torn jeans and highschool. It's that old feeling of familiarity that you have, for some reason, forgotten how much you've missed.
That feeling of you'd-never-want-to-leave-but-just-have-to that would always, always make you smile like that silly schoolgirl that you've once been...


"I drift off to a dream and hold your hand againa picture perfect scene with your hair against the windI pull you a little closer to fill the space betweenwhen our love's as old as timeand our hearts are seventeen..."- Rockwell Ryan

I'm caught up with life.

For myself I live, live intensely and am fed by life, and my value, whatever it be, is in my own kind of expression of that.

- Henry James

**Hit the PAUSE button of the player currently playing at the bottom of this page before playing the mixes I am currently listening to.

An easy weekend.

Sold Drama

As all stories go, the end of a chapter signals the beginning of a new one. A dénouement comes after another.

Each time I set a book down, an unexplainable feeling overwhelms me. There is no goodbye nor farewell to bid, just a simple ending. But always, there is 'till then' to a book that I own. It is a promise to myself that one day someday, I shall visit its pages again.

But it is different with a borrowed book. I do not own it. And so I would have to keep it inside my head in case I would have a need or an urge to revisit the words and lessons learned from its pages. Because sometimes, no matter how frequent I remind and nag myself to get a copy of my own, the thought just slips my mind for some reason.

That is just how it is. It, like most of the simplest and unnoticeable things around us, mirrors life itself and the dramas encapsulated in it. What happened has happened. The lessons are left only to be revisited ever so often.

Books, both owned and loaned, are handed and even sold for one reason or another. But behind such reasons lies a need. And always there lies a value for such needs. From the simplest need of money to the most mundane need of passing the time; but always there would be something left apart from the reasons and needs between the exchanging hands passing the book from one to the other.

I have set a book down just the other night. Today, I realized I have ended a chapter of my life. There may be a passing absence of drama in the days to come. For how long, I cannot tell. Nonetheless, I have opened my pages for a very good friend who is going through way too much spectacle these days. And so tonight, the story of life is on loan for her to pour out all the ink she has.

"My Dear, I will be the margin to guide your ink. I will do my best to read and understand the heroine in you. Let your handwriting lean on each leaf and I promise to keep turning the pages to make a space for all your words. I will be your reader. I will hold firmly but with utmost care the binders of your tale.

Have faith. You are worth reading. And for whatever value you are in dire need of, consider your drama sold."

It's only inevitable.

In this crazed society, what else defines the inevitable? Tell me, has routine taken over defying what used to be inevitable?

Gone are the days when simplicity and silence are given due time. Although intricacy has served us well through the years of growth, the urge to make it more vulgar and proud seems to have taken a grip over most of us.

As each day ends, we cannot help but be surrounded by the deafening shadows of silence. And we are left to ourselves; left alone to deal and battle with our own demons. Inevitable, is it not?

I suppose then, that no matter how much we crave for the loudness and vulgarity of pride, and the intricate details we scour for to have such pride, it is still inevitable that silence would rightfully take its place and grip us tightly by the neck. Sooner or later.

Today I have come across a rumor monger yet again. I ought to have gotten used to this by now, what with all that I have come across with in the last fifteen years or so of both social and self awareness. But like most people, pride has found a shelter in my consciousness. But why wait for the day to end before coming to terms with one of the demons I have to face, when I could turn to face it and have a firm grip at myself instead? Here then is my salute to silence along with a welcoming breath of inner peace and strength that I know I should rightfully take pride for.

Silence should not be deafening nor maddening. Don't peace and tranquility come along with it? Besides, nobody said pride could not be taken in stride with complete silence.

Random Shapes & Questions

What makes a circle circle and a square square? What defines corners and infinity? What is definition?

These are random thoughts and unanswered questions of what -- and difficult ones at that, if I may say so. But most people believe that questions of how and why are the most difficult ones to find answers to. Dare I may to defy that? I most certainly would.

Answers to how and why are mere inklings of affirmations. Care to notice that we are already well aware of such answers even before we voice them all out. And more often than not, we only hope for such affirmations we falsely believe we are in dire need of only to define whether such answers are right or wrong. And so we fail to see past what defines right from wrong. What does then?

Morals? Quorum? Society? Us? Us.

It is not a matter of answering the questions of how and why. The answers to them are already there. We just do not want to be the lone ones to notice all the elephants in the room.

And so it leads to my question of what. What keeps us silent? What makes us look the other way? What fails us to be aware and emphatic? What?

While it is true that the answers to what lie in front of us alongside the answers to how and why, we must understand that before reason and manner, that which answer how and why, we must first identify what needs reason and action to begin with. We may be fully aware of it, but do we accept it in order not to sieze its mere existence?

Answer this and maybe, just maybe, all the answers we would ever need and want would no longer be hard to come by.

A circle would remain a circle and a square square without any need for reason because it has already been defined by our acceptance, no matter how bleak or blind such acceptance may be. They are shapes nonetheless. But apart from these facts, among others, what holds the same faith we have in such acceptance? What shapes our faiths and fates?

We may spend the rest of our lives searching for who we are; searching for who we are fated to love. It may sound preposterous but there are so many of us who fall entrapped by such connotations at one point or another, that we often fail to define what we are and what we have bcome from why we are and how we have become. Pray tell, what defies us from accepting ourselves completely? What then makes us love and respect ourselves a little more each day? What shape have we chosen to build ourselves as?

The symbolism that such shapes we choose signifies not our ideals and assumptions alone. It may define or defy what we are, what we choose to be and what we want and have become. When we find the answers to these, we then begin to define the rest of our lives that we are yet to live. And then, we find a succeeding question to defy...

What now?

See, did I not say it is much harder to answer what than how and why? It is both circle and square. We first choose corners and sides. But after we do, an infinite cycle lies ahead trampling our stance, letting us lose our ground yet again.

So, what now?

New Leaf

The world has ended several times over. Believe it.

For every single second that the clock ticks away, a moment of death passes by and takes over a life. All it takes is one word that grips one person's heart and mind. Failure. Disappointment. Heartbreak. Death.

We have heard it all before. From a stranger, a friend, a family member. From ourselves. Have we not?

And then, there is tomorrow.

There is a reason why the word Life passes through our lips every now and again. Rebirth exists. The dictionary says so. Neither one might matter today, most especially to a broken heart and a shattered soul. But tomorrow, life wills itself to take place, and rebirth happens -- no matter how inconspicuous and unwelcome they may be at our darkest, most despairing moments.

Until suddenly, we trip over today and realize how many tomorrows we have shoved to yesterday. Again, the world seemed to have ended twice over, passing us by without noticing it. We then own the exclamation that it was never what we intended for to happen; that we never wanted, lest hoped for our whole world to stop yet again. Because finally, we have come to realize our thirst to live and start over anew, in the very same world that we have been in.

But that is an impossibiilty. It could never happen anymore. That world is long gone, and burried in the past. And a part of us, no matter how great or small it may be, has already died along with it. And we have changed along the course. The past is nothing more but a memory to be relived only in the mind.

Yet rest not our hearts in grief. Such leaf of life may have fallen, but our lifetime is yet to take a full turn. A part of us may have died, but we should not fail to notice that there is still life left for us to live, a leaf to turn.

Alas, we are reborn. Today we live, a little wiser than yesterday, a little stronger. Patience engulfs us with the knowledge of making the most out of everything and every moment at hand; allowing a room for anticipation for all the tomorrows that should come. And should we travel back down memory lane, we shall be our own guardian.

For every world that has ended, and every part of us that has died, we will find a leaf turning in our own tree of life. Finally, we earn back our worth, loving the saint in ourselves and accepting the sinners that we are.

This world will end, maybe sooner than we expect. We should live for all its worth.