Life is a carnival

11:11. Make a wish. 2010. What does this mean? Dreams. Fast forward into the future; I don’t know what to think. Donnie Darko. We are the master of our destinies. Why do we need to feel? I don’t understand why we try so hard to fill that void within ourselves like our lives depended on it. The sense of touch is just so strange to me. It opens up parts of ourselves that explodes with such vigor and zeal. It’s so persistent that all we can do is succumb.

She presses my back with all her might. Her palms, smoothly oiled with eucalyptus, caress my skin with ease. The room is covered in shadows as two dimly lit light bulbs glow from the ceiling. My body starts to relax and succumbs to the natural emancipation from human contact. I just want to scream out of sheer pleasure. I shut my eyes tightly and drift into a state of ecstasy.

I’m talking and I can’t seem to stop. Ideas are pouring out of my head. Films, books, dreams; everything I feel passionate about just keeps overflowing. But for a moment, I pause and ask myself if this is all real. When I’m not in motion, everything starts to darken. All my hopes evaporate into thin air and I can’t help but cradle myself to sleep. The emptiness that I feel stings in a way that it hurts so much, I want to disappear into thin air.

I’m nursing a major hangover but I’m happy. I see her everywhere but I’m scared to find her; to have her. I lay in bed last night with my head spinning ruthlessly. Between two beds towering over me, I dropped instantly on the mattress on the floor. I fell into a dreamy trance.

Fuck your lies. Fuck the front you flaunt with pride. Fuck your self-deprecating persona. Fuck all your mistakes and apologies. Fuck your stubbornness. Fuck your relentless reliance. Fuck your condescending tone. Fuck you. Fuck you.

We seek to define ourselves. We’re all looking for that intangible element to bring meaning into our lives. But as we thread through the daily grind of life, we become caught up. I was driving up the stone cobbled driveway and from a distance; I could see a familiar silhouette towering over the campus. The parking lot was jam-packed with cars, parallel parked, doubled parked and even illegally parked. It was a strange scene. A year had passed yet it felt as though nothing had changed.

My Predicament

“I’m right here -
standing too close that you don't notice
staring too near that you don't see
but my hands are tied in knots
my feet are bound together
my heart in your hands
but my mind with another.

you feel that you alone are wounded
while here silently I carry a burden
caught in between the unbreakable
in which there is no way out
how I wish I can escape
but how can I escape myself?”

1604. The last four digits of my social security number. 5:00pm. Clock in. “Ola, amigo.” “Ola, Ricardo, es frio!” I put on my apron. I top it off with my cap. Another day. “Sup, man? How’s it going?” “Hey John, I’m good man, same old, same old.” “Come again?” “I said I’m good, man.” “Cool.” I start rolling the cold putty of dough on the wooden table. Into a ball then pound it hard. Get a rolling pin and repeatedly thin it out until it flattens. There are still no customers. After rolling six blanks, I start to sweep the floor; coal, ash, dough, sugar, almonds; a sweet mess of sorts. “Rafael, we got popped. Three cheese crispani.” “All right, I got it.” I shake the wooden paddle to check if the dough has enough flour underneath. It moves a slight inch. Good enough. Asiago-parmesan cheese, fontina cheese, ricotta cheese, a dash of salt and pepper. Slide it right in the oven for seven minutes. I take off my latex gloves and make a three-pointer to the trash can across the hall. He shoots. He scores. Carrying a tray of plates and utensils, I walk nonchalantly towards one of the booths where a blonde-haired woman and a scruffy looking guy are conversing quietly. “It’ll be ready in a few minutes, sir, maam.” “Thank you very much,” they reply ecstatically.

Curled up like a child in a woman’s womb, I stayed in this position. My mind was raging; thoughts intersecting by one another in rapid speed. I was scared shitless. I couldn’t tell the difference between possibility and the inevitable. It felt like my brain was turning into a Rubik cube and it was taking forever for me to match all the colors. Was someone going to break in through the window? Should I lock the door so no one could go in? Were there ghosts hanging from the ceiling, watching me as I try to sleep? I wanted to ram my head into the wall and just pound it until it bled out all the thoughts in my mind. I was so consumed by negativity, I just wanted to get a gun and blow my brains out. Sleep, when are you going to take me? One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten; I’m counting, desperately trying to put myself in this fairy tale trance.

I feel like I have the soul of a woman trapped in a body of a man.

March 8, 2005. I’m alone and it’s my birthday. We’re having the usual birthday dinner with my grandparents joining us for my celebratory feast.

It hurts to go back; to feel the tormenting guilt once again. A sacred act turned trivial; I wanted to speed off into nothingness.

I wake up feeling like my body had been beaten up the night before. Streams of iced margarita linger in the edges of my head, making me feel sick to the point that I want to just throw up.

The cool air of the electric fan gently blows my hair. Overcast skies loom over the sprawling compound. The smell of rain trails through the walls and windows of this empty house. A blanket of nostalgia and bittersweet memories place me in a dreamy trance.

I’ll never forget that day. It was Christmas Eve, several years ago. I was just about to graduate from the seventh grade. My spirits were high and I knew my life was about to reach a significant turning point. But amidst all the merry cheer, I found myself in a deep predicament. What made things harder was that it had something to do with matters of the heart. There I was sitting on the grey, bulky sofa in the living room of my house. Christmas lights were gleaming outside the garden, hanging like vines from the branches of mango and coconut trees. Right in front of me sat my cousin, gazing intently at the empty basketball court, trying his best to maintain his composure. I couldn’t look at him in the eye. Ruthless shame and helplessness gripped me so tightly, tears started to well within my eyes. “I’m sorry. I’ll end it now. You’re my cousin and that’s more important to me”, I said while sobbing. Tears trickled down his plump cheeks.

As the car made its way through the jagged, asphalt road, his eyes remained fixed on a figure he knew all too well. There she was standing motionless by the chapel, looking nonchalantly into space. He was used to watching her from afar. After all, that was all he could really do. However, this time, things were different. He wasn’t watching her anymore. He was actually going to be with her. This thought always seemed far-fetched for him, since they both went through countless fickle moments together. Although he always had this certain faith on their arcane bond, his thoughts were always in conflict with his seemingly undying belief. When he finally pulled over by the chapel, he pretended not to watch her as she entered the car. She was glowing radiantly. He felt as if he was watching her move in slow motion. Every little move heightened. With grace and ease, she moved, unaware that she was, yet again, capturing his soul. It had been a long time since the two of them had been alone together. The silent moments between the two of them were the ones that were filled with the most intensity and emotion. It was as if their souls were conversing with one another through the silence, slowly becoming one as time went by.

Everyone seems to be writing about the new year and how the previous year was either the best time of their lives or the obvious opposite being the worst. As much as I am tempted to look earnestly back at the year 2006, I have to stop myself and instead, look more into the future, that is the year 2007.

Until this very moment, I still can't believe that I'm actually on my own and independent in every sense of the word. It somehow feels like a dream where you're waiting to wake up but you never do. There are times when I actually have these very vivid dreams of my life back in Manila and I whenever I wake up, I can't tell if I was actually dreaming or not. Life right now is surreal or maybe the surreal is my life right now.

I still find it funny how my fickleness has seem to have manifested itself in the bigger things in life. It's like I can never seem to satisfy my needs. But then I have to keep asking myself, "Is it really fickleness or am I just constantly looking for something better?" Whenever I think about what I want in life, it just seems like it's a big pile of clutter. I want one thing that contradicts with the other and I end up trying to figure out why they contradict. However, ultimately, one thing I am sure of is that I just want to be a better person. I know that sounds like the greatest cliche in the world. But think about it. What's the point of living if we just remain stuck to our old ways, not even trying to transcend from where we're from. I'm not going to pretend I don't know how extremely difficult it is to rise above our circumstances. We're bound to fall and screw up. Then we feel like just staying down and beating ourselves up. But that's life,right? More and more, I'm starting to see what life is about. I always thought life was supposed to be this perfect haven where we didn't have to suffer. I'd always feel like the world had turned its back on me whenever life revealed pain and misery. However, now, I'm starting to realize that life is only starting to show its true colors to me now.

In this new year, I can only hope that I learn from my mistakes and try to open myself more to the realities of life. I want to be able to take comfort in the little things and stop dwelling on the past. I want to be able to function even if the situation seems tough. I want to be stronger and find happiness on my own. I don't know why I always feel like my life has ended here when the truth is that it has only just begun for me.

Consume me, devour all that is left
As I start to cease to exist in this world,
take away all this clutter
Allow me to be as strong as a rock
Stoic and relentless, I can never be moved
Wipe my eyes that well with tears
Cradle me when I feel like everyone has
turned into a stranger
Lead me towards the home I have abandoned
Sit right next to me while I watch the
lonely storm pass through

The Lord is my sheperd
there is nothing I lack
In green pastures you let me graze
to safe waters you lead me
you restore my strength
You guide me along the right path
for the sake of your name
Even when I walk through a dark valley
I fear no harm for you are at my side
your rod and staff give me courage
You set a table before me
as ny enemies watch
You anoint my head with oil
my cup overflows
Only goodness and love will pursue me
all the days of my life
I will dwell in the house of the Lord
for years

December 8, 2006

I found myself reaching for my cell phone as I lay barely awake under my blanket. 9:00am. Since I didn’t have work for both of my jobs, I knew I could just stay in and sleep the whole day if I wanted to.

A few seconds passed and I was back in my world of dreams; my perpetual haven for escape. Nowadays, I’ve become more aware of my dreams. In a way, I’ve been more in sync with whatever circumstance I was experiencing in that particular dream state. In this dream, I seemed to have transported myself forward into the near future. Of course I wasn’t entirely sure that this was a vision of what was going to happen to me. All I knew was that it seemed like something that could happen.

So I was sitting at the end of the dining table while my Aunt and Uncle sat opposite to each other. In the background, I could hear my little cousins chatting away making it sound like there was a festive carnival inside the house. It was strange having all them around me. After being in North Carolina for quite a few months, I’ve always felt like everything that surrounded me gave off this disturbingly quiet and mundane vibe. Yet here I was in the same American-style house that looked like every other house in the village right in the middle of a family gathering. I started having a long conversation with my Aunt and Uncle about the kind of life my cousins and I were experiencing here in North Carolina. I was very vocal about my thoughts and sentiments. It was like I was in a trance and all the words coming out of my mouth resonated with such command and power. I was desperately trying to make them see how difficult life was for the three of us. Since I was pretty much doing all the talking, all I got from them were indifferent nods.

And as abruptly as it started, my dream suddenly turns into darkness. My eyes start to peer open and I see the rays of sunlight gleaming at the seemingly immaculate white bathroom. “It’s going to be another long and dull day”, I say to myself. I try to make a mental note of the things I have to do and realize that there’s nothing I have to do for the day. Then it dawns on me that on my one free day, I actually have to make an effort to find something to do to kill time. I get out of bed and start to stretch. I realize I had slept for more than twelve hours and this was probably the reason I felt so lethargic. Looking at myself in the mirror, I notice that my left eye is blood-shot red. “What a sight to see to start my day”, I say to myself. I was never going to wear contact lenses again. 1:30pm. I go downstairs and notice that I’m the only one in the house. My two cousins are at work and I can feel the emptiness starting to loom over my head. I try to fight it by keeping myself busy. I look around the kitchen and I find a plate of corned beef that looks like it was cooked an hour ago. I don’t really care and just place it in the microwave. While eating alone, my mind starts to drift. “I can’t believe I’m here”, I think to myself. The routine seemed so unreal to me. The mere act of eating breakfast alone swept through me like a raging typhoon. All I could do was take it out on food. I had to feed my hunger pangs. Lately, my hunger pangs have been increasingly getting stronger by the day. It was like I needed to keep eating to block the depression that was growing inside my skin.


After eating, I decide to finish up the book I was reading, “A Wild Sheep Chase” by Haruki Murakami. I found it strange how engrossed I was with his books. Whenever I would read his books, it felt so essential for me to revel in it and not just skim through the pages. I guess at the same time, I felt this great empathy towards all of his characters. They were all ordinary people but at the same time, they went through personal struggles that they tried to overcome without any desperate effort. It was as if they were just going with the motions and whatever needed to be revealed, came through in due time. I wanted to be as fatalistic as Murakami’s characters. They just took things in stride. Sure, they went through hard times. I just wish I could be as relentless as them. After finishing the book, I felt like I had achieved something. It wasn’t really anything tantamount. However, I felt like I had gained a little bit more wisdom. And for me, that was all that mattered. I decided to do the dishes afterwards. It took me a good thirty minutes to get everything clean. I hear the door open and see my cousin, John enter the house. “You done with work?” I ask him. “I’m just on my break”, he answers. This was a typical conversation between us cousins. It was like a standard line. I decided I didn’t want to stay in the house the whole day so I tell my cousin that I’m going to go with him to Borders.

Looking out from the window of the car, I gaze intently at the sky. It was pristine blue and the scattered white puffy clouds floated on it with such grace. The neighborhood we lived in looked so picturesque it left me baffled and feeling remotely distant. Here I was in a place that seemed so safe and beautiful, yet I felt like a dying weed in a plain of marigolds. When I got to Borders, I went straight to the magazine section. I picked out four magazines: Details, GQ, No Depression and Independent Film. I made myself comfortable in one of the empty seats with a table that could easily fit six people. While going through the magazines, I continued to flip each page until I found an article that caught my attention. Out of all four magazines, I only came across a couple of articles that actually came of interest to me. The first article was on Alejandro Gonzales Innaritu, the director of the film, “Babel.” The second article was on Richard Linklater, the director of the film, “Fast Food Nation.” And the last article was on the 25 years of Sundance. After finishing all four magazines, I stared blankly at the rows of bookshelves lined up in front of me. I was smack in the middle of American consumerism. I hated it. At least I wanted to think I hated it. If I were completely honest with myself, I was just frustrated with my life. More than anything, I was frustrated with myself. For a good ten minutes, I stared into oblivion. I started to think of how everything in my life had changed; everything but myself. I was still as fickle and as weak as before. I was just in the other side of the world. “When am I ever going to change?” I silently ask myself. I wasn’t sure if I was being too hard on myself or if I was just reminding myself of how aware I was of my flaws. I forced myself to snap out of this rut and I began browsing at the fiction-literature section. I picket out three books: “The Magic Mountain” by Thomas Mann, “The Elephant Vanishes” by Haruki Murakami and “Never Let You Go” by Kazuo Ishiguro. I knew it was pointless to start reading “The Magic Mountain” and “Never Let You Go” since they were long novels and I wouldn’t be able to finish it in one sitting. So I decided to start reading “The Elephant Vanishes” first. It was a collection of short stories and I looked at the table of contents to find a story that stood out. The title that caught my attention instantaneously was “Sleep.” I also felt it was quite fitting for me to read the story since I’d been strangely drawn towards sleep and its mysteries for the past weeks. I breezed through the story in a matter of minutes and found myself completely engaged with the protagonist. The protagonist was an insomniac who hadn’t been able to sleep for seventeen days straight. Yet in spite of her lack of sleep, she was surprisingly able to function much better and she became strangely fixated in reading books. In the end though, her reality started becoming distorted and she couldn’t tell whether she was living in her dreams or if she was awake.
I closed the book and walked around the bookstore. I hadn’t noticed that a rush of people had entered and there was an echo of intertwined voices trailing in the air. A jazz musician was playing the saxophone while a small crowd by the café watched quietly, eating their bagels and drinking the cups of coffee. I was beginning to get my hunger pangs again so I decided to munch on a biscotti while looking through dvds in the foreign film section. “Turtles Can Fly”, “Nobody Knows”, “Tsotsi”. “I have to watch these movies.” I think to myself. I looked at my watch. 7:30pm. My cousin should have been done with work. Making our way towards the exit, I could already feel the cold air creeping through my body. As soon as I got outside, I turned into ice. I hurriedly made my way into the car and waited for the heater to warm me up. The drive home was sullen and dark. I couldn’t seem to put my finger on it. It was just a deafening kind of silence that lingered within the cramped spaces of the car.

When I got home, I headed straight to the bathroom. I stood in the shower for a long time. It might have just been a few minutes. For me however, it felt like eternity. Feeling the hot water on my skin, I felt a catharsis taking place. Even though the heat prickled my body, at the same time, it soothed my ailing soul as well. I wanted the water to pour on me without end. But I knew this wouldn’t last so I turned the knob of the shower. In just one small turn, I was back in reality. My moment of comfort had come to an end. After drying myself, I wiped off the steam in the mirror and stared at my reflection in deep consternation. It had been days since I last shaved and my facial hair had started to grow in different places on my face. My eye bags seemed to have deepened, probably because of too much sleep or maybe because I was aging a lot faster. It’s probably the latter. Looking deep into my own eyes, I knew I was getting older. The change was becoming more evident. A surge of emotions took over me. I just stood there as the steam made its way out of the bathroom of solitude.

How do we get by when everything seems so difficult? Or even when things are okay and just seem like there's something lacking, what do we do to make things a little bit bearable? One thing about being alone in a far-away place is that you seem to find a lot of time to think. And it doesn't help at all if you're the type to already think a lot. So the only thing to do is to try to get by.

When I was back home, I knew how to make life interesting without even trying. It was all a matter of creating a series of distractions to fill my day or even a week. I guess the great thing about living in Manila is that you'll never really run out of things to distract you. When I think about it, Manila really is a world of distractions. I don't think it's a good thing. Neither is it something bad. It all depends on the person. I have to admit that I enjoyed all the distractions. From hanging out with friends during long breaks (as well as during class hours) to long nights, intoxicating ourselves with alcohol and aimless conversations. Even if at times, everything started to turn into a vicious cycle, I still didn't mind it. For me, all those times felt like a place of refuge where nothing else mattered. All of society's norms ceased to exist. We were all just merely living, trying to break free from the monotony of life.

I've come to realize that living here in the States is a completely different paradigm from the paradigm I was living in back home. The entire way of life here is just so structured, you feel like you're being devoured by it little by little. The hardest thing for me is that there's always that sickening need to put an effort in everything you do here. From the most menial of tasks such as cleaning the dishes to the never-ending struggle of trying to fit in; all this just makes you feel this unsettling vibe that you can't seem to shake off. There are days when all I want to do is give in to my narcoleptic tendencies and just fall into a deep sleep and never wake up. As hard as it to believe, sometimes, I find even more peace in the fleeting dreams I have at night. On the other hand, there are times when all I want to do is to be in constant motion. I'd evolve into this obsessive compulsive freak, trying to put everything in order, I guess, in subconscious hopes of trying to place my emotions and thoughts in order as well. Ultimately, these bizarre tendencies are basically just means for me to get by. More often than not, I would just settle to lose myself in a good book and try to just immerse myself in a world that doesn't co-exist with reality. Somtimes, I would turn to movies or music. It's simply just a way of trying to fill in the gaps of time; futile attempts to make the void I feel within myself a little bit bearable.

Do you guys feel like like everything's changing, like everyone is starting to grow up a little bit more? It sucks cause I feel it. I've been feeling it every single day for the past few weeks! I don't know what to make out of it. A part of me is kinda glad that I'm changing and it seems as though everyone is as well. But at the same time, it's kinda depressing, knowing that the "good old days" are coming to an end. Oh well...

“For example, the wind has its reasons. We just don’t notice as we go about our lives. But then, at some point, we are made to notice. The wind envelopes you with a certain purpose in mind, and it rocks you. The wind knows everything that’s inside you. And not just the wind. Everything, including a stone. They all know us very well. From top to bottom. It only occurs to us at certain times. And all we can do is go with those things. As we take them in, we survive, and deepen.” – The Kidney-shaped Stone by Haruki Murakami

For the past two months, I’ve been thinking of ways to run away from myself. I guess this is what happens to a person when ones world is turned upside down and is left to stand that way indefinitely. One thing I learned about wanting to escape is that it consumes you until not one bit of you is left. You become devoured to the last drop and the only thing that keeps you alive is the thought that everything is going to end in time. I have to admit that this was all self-imposed and I made the choice to struggle with myself. I kept making myself believe I wasn’t meant to be here in my present situation. I justified every little thing I did. Ultimately, I just shut my eyes and made a complete three-sixty on everything I believed in. Day in and day out, I would just find every single detail I could add to my reasons to abhor my life here. And as time flew by, I found myself in such a dark place, I could barely even function. The worst thing about it was that I was aware that I did this to myself and I did this, just to fuel the pain and loneliness I was feeling.

I went through one hell of a storm. I don’t think I’ve ever gone through anything like it in my life. It was one of those personal battles that felt so epic; it could’ve gone either way: it could’ve broken me into pieces or it could’ve saved my life. I have to keep reminding myself that nothing is what it seems. In the words of Richard from “The Beach”, “I expected it to feel more real, more visceral. I was waiting for it to hit me..” I can’t deny the fact that I was raised with ideals. I was brought up to believe that there were certain things in life that we had to accomplish to be able to tell ourselves that we were doing okay with life. But I’ve come to the conclusion that our lives are just so fleeting, that all we can really do is make the most of what we have right now. The past stays in the past. The future will stay in the future. For almost my entire life, I was sheltered and was kept at arms length from the real world. At times, I would get glimpses of how cruel and cold the world was. However, it was never really enough to scare me; to jolt me into embracing what I already had. Life will always be hard. I don’t mean to sound like a cynic but I think that’s the truth. Milan Kundera said that “people long for repetition.” I’d have to agree with that. When we find something good or something that makes us happy, we just want it to last forever. But it never does. The only thing that really lasts is our memories. The past few weeks, I found myself reminiscing about the beautiful moments in my life. I have to say that I’ve had a lot. I don’t know why I tend to choose to think about the unpleasant memories when I have so much good memories to think about. Whenever I look at pictures of the “good old days”, I’m filled with this nostalgic feeling that seems to cover up this void I seem to carry with me nowadays.

This is my life right now. I may not be completely happy about everything. However, I still have a lot of things to be happy about. I am on my own because this is my time to find myself. And whenever I think about it real hard, I always end up thinking that this might be my only chance to shape myself into the person I always wanted to be. I think I’ve finally chosen the path I’m going to take in my life. I just have to keep moving forward. There’s just no turning back. I used to live in this world that was just so familiar, I lost myself in it. Now that I’m in this world that’s just bigger than me, this is my chance to get to know myself once again. This is my time to find myself in this great big world. I don’t really know where this is all going to lead in the end. All I know is that I’d rather explore the great unknown than to live in oblivion

Did you ever get that feeling that you're trying to change your entire self? But then you get this realization that we can never really be anything else but ourselves? I've never been a believer in zodiac signs. However, I find it fascinating how the descriptions of each sign seem to fit most of the people I know. I find it even stranger how it seems to describe my personality perfectly. Who am I to say though that this is really me,right? I'm still searching...

Pisceans possess a gentle, patient, malleable nature. They have many generous qualities and are friendly, good natured, kind and compassionate, sensitive to the feelings of those around them, and respond with the utmost sympathy and tact to any suffering they encounter. They are deservedly popular with all kinds of people, partly because their easygoing, affectionate, submissive natures offer no threat or challenge to stronger and more exuberant characters. They accept the people around them and the circumstances in which they find themselves rather than trying to adapt them to suit themselves, and they patiently wait for problems to sort themselves out rather than take the initiative in solving them. They are more readily concerned with the problems of others than with their own.

Their natures tend to be too otherworldly for the practical purposes of living in this world as it is. They sometimes exist emotionally rather than rationally, instinctively more than intellectually (depending on how they are aspected). They long to be recognized as greatly creative. They also dislike disciple and confinement. The nine-to-five life is not for them. Any rebellion they make against convention is personal, however, as they often times do not have the energy or motivation to battle against the Establishment.

Pisceans tend to withdraw into a dream world where their qualities can bring mental satisfaction and sometimes, fame and financial reward for they are extremely gifted artistically. They are also versatile and intuitive, have quick understanding, observe and listen well, and are receptive to new ideas and atmospheres. All these factors can combine to produce remarkable creativity in literature, music and art. They may count among their gifts mediumistic qualities which can give them a feeling that their best work comes from outside themselves, "Whispered beyond the misted curtains, screening this world from that." Even when they cannot express themselves creatively they have a greater than average instinct for, and love of, beauty in art and nature, a catlike appreciation of luxury and pleasure, and a yearning for new sensations and travel to remote, exotic places.

They are never egotistical in their personal relationships and give more than they ask from their friends. They are sexually delicate, in the extreme almost asexual, and most Pisceans would want a relationship in which the partner's mind and spirit rather than the body resonated with their own. Unfortunately they can be easily misled by a lover who courts them delicately and in marriage makes them unhappy by a coarser sexuality than they expected. They are nevertheless intensely loyal and home-loving and will remain faithful.

Traditional
Pisces Traits...

Imaginative and sensitive
Compassionate and kind
Selfless and unworldly
Intuitive and sympathetic


On the dark side....

Escapist and idealistic
Secretive and vague
Weak-willed and easily led

Life- it can be so easy yet it can be so difficult as well. Some say it’s all in the mind. But for others who live in their heads, it’s a constant struggle. I want my life to simple and fulfilling. Is that too much to ask? I hate the way I was able to wrap myself in such a labyrinth wherein I’m so tangled, any slight movement will trigger a consequence to spark. I’ve made so many mistakes in my short life. I’d like to think that it’s probably better that way so that I can learn from them and hopefully, make things right. But I’ve come to realize that I can never run away from my past and most especially myself. I am what I am now and I am as complete as I will ever be. All my longings, resentments and dreams make up the person that I am now.

The year 2006 has by far been the most trying year for me. Just when I thought I had endured everything seemingly plausible, I was jolted once again by experiences that have left permanent marks on me forever. It all started with my heart being crushed. Just when I thought I was ready to love again and abandon all my fickle tendencies, I falter. Even if I crawled and wept just to show that I felt remorse, it wasn’t enough. Until this very day, the burn still stings. So that was the beginning of a series of life-altering moments. What followed was something that not only broke my soul but also left me with an unnerving feeling of fear that constantly lurks through my veins day in and day out. After breaking my arm, I knew that God was trying to tell me something. He was telling me to snap out of it; to get a hold of myself and become aware that I was spiraling towards a pit so deep, I wouldn’t be able to get myself of if I fell in. I knew that I had to find my way back. However, I knew that I had placed all this upon myself and the world I was living in had transformed into my own playing field. I was playing with reality and I was about to lose to myself to the game I had created. I knew that I wasn’t strong enough to save myself in this world so I decided to do everything in my power to move to another country. I knew I had to defy the odds and the antagonists but it was just so imperative that I succeeded because my life depended on it. As each day passed, I was losing myself more and more. Whenever I would look at myself in the mirror, all I would see was a face that was anonymous; a stranger staring right back at me.

I knew exactly what I had to do with myself. I needed to be vulnerable and I had to go through an experience that would open my eyes to the realities of life and all the mistakes I had made. It was all about starting from zero and feeling my way in a strange new world. In a way, I had to undergo a rebirth to be able to find my way back to the best version of me. Through suffering and loneliness, I learned how find comfort in the smallest of things. It made me appreciate everything and everyone I had left behind and made me feel like I had everything I will ever need at home. From being used to taking short-cuts and the easy way out, here, I have learned the value of patience and perseverance. Through constant toiling and resisting temptation, I have come to a deeper understanding of dedication and strength. In moments of sadness and melancholy, I have grown to embrace the pain and not run away from it. And most importantly, I’ve come to the realization that life is so grippingly real and that when you go through an experience so intense, you start to understand what it means to be alive.

It doesn’t get any easier nor does it get any harder. There are days when life seems like it will embody perfection, but there area also days when life seems like it will break you into a million pieces. Life is like a work of art, for me. For my life specifically, it’s an abstract painting still in the process of being finished. When you look at it from a far, it looks like a beautiful mess. Vibrant hues are scattered all over yet when you stare at certain parts of the canvas, fleeting images appear that make you think you see something. One minute it’s there, another minute it’s gone. When you look at the painting closely, you’ll see the intricate details that look like a lot of effort had been placed. However, as a whole, it is still an unfinished abstract painting. Some may think it has the makings of being a classic. Some think it could possibly be classified as an artwork of surrealism. But as the painter of this unfinished piece, I’d rather it be a work of the soul; a masterpiece that can only be understood by anyone who has experienced everything this life has to offer. For now, I can only keep painting. From little specs of paint to traces of my own sweat and blood, the strokes and dabs will continue until it is done.

Here I am, sitting in this place that seems to be the only sanctuary I have left. I'm tired of all the thoughts that have been running laps around my head. Every bit of energy I had has been drained to the last drop. I don't want to analyze my life anymore. I'm just sick of it. I just want to get rid of every hypothetical situation in my head. All the clutter of emotions inside me is just another pile of futile junk that is destroying me in more ways than one. I want to go on cruise control now. I just want to extinguish all feeling and thought. Can't I just cast a spell and make them go away?

I just want to put a stop to all the faltering. Why can't I just rise above all this? I just want to do what I have to do and let fate reveal itself in the end. I'm running out of words. I'm starting to become numb. Is this where it's all supposed to change in an instant? I can only hope that it does...

A friend of mine told me to make a list of the pros and cons of being here in the States and also being there in Manila. I've been meaning to do it for quite a while but I guess I was just scared of what would appear. Here is the outcome..

The Pros Of Staying in the States                                                           The Cons Of Staying in the States

1)Get a degree from the States                                                               1)Be away from family and loved ones
2)Learn how to live alone                                                                         2)No one to turn to in times of need
3)Learn how to live within my means                                                    3)Life becomes mundande and meaningless
4)Test my character                                                                                  4)The stress of being alone becomes too much
5)Become more responsible for myself                                               5)No friends to hang out with
6)Learn how to be more patient                                                             6)The loneliness is overwhelming
7)Learn how to deal with hardships and struggle                              7)You're not happy
8)Pave the way for a "brighter" future                                                    8)Constant struggle with negative thoughts
9)Learn how to thrive through difficulty                                                 9)Money becomes the central issue
10)Learn to adapt to routine                                                                  10)You lose sight of what matters the most 
                                                                                                                    11)You constantly escape from routine
                                                                                                                    12)Longing becomes a part of your life
                                                                                                                    13)You are constantly empty
                                                                                                                    14)You drift further from reality 
                                                                                                                    15)You escape from the problems in Manila

The Pros Of Staying In Manila                                                            The Cons Of Staying In Manila
1)Be able to support family emotionally                                           1)Will have to deal with criticism from people
2)Learn from mistakes and do whatever it                                      2)Will have to live with a damaged ego
takes to make things right                                                                  3)Will have to eat my pride&hold my head up
3)Learn to live with temptation and                                                   4)Will have to deal with the consequences
not give in
4)Finish last 2 years of college
5)Have a sense of meaning in life
6)Use experience in the States as a wake-
up call
7)Learn how to discipline myself
8)Learn how to seek oppurtunities and
not just wait for them
9)Be productive with my talents and
passions
10)Be happy with what I have
11)Face the consequences of my
actions and deal with them
12)Become more humble because
of my experience in the States
13)Let everyone that mean a lot to me
know that I love them
14)Be a good example to my friends and siblings

I know a lot of you might disagree and try to justify each of the reasons I enumerated here. But this is just a list. These are just thoughts. What am I supposed to do? It may seem clear but I still don't really know. Decisions, decisions, decisions...

Fragile Beings

The plague eats through every inch of me
From my spirit to the warmth that once existed
All that kept me untouchable is all buried in the past
The world circles around me
I can only stand in the middle and let myself be swallowed by the cycles
With no one else to turn to, I hold myself tightly
Illusions bring more agony
The clutches of reality send bullets grazing at me without end

Crowded World

Speeding through eternity
Lifeless forms flashing by your very eyes
An invisible alien wanders the foreign streets unnoticed
Hiding underneath an invisible cloak,
A flurry of lucid sensations ripple without end


I feel like the pit of a deep trench where it is so dark, light can’t even reach the bottom.

There isn’t any sense of failure in trying; only redemption.

Sides competing, bashing and screaming.

Endless Struggle

Why this endless pain
A place to hide is nowhere to be found
Emotions spinning me in nauseous cycles
Don’t know how much I can take
I’m on my knees, crawling to survive

Rainy Day

Cobwebs in my head
Can’t seem to shake them off
Unsettled and restless
Boredom pacing back and forth
Songs of melancholy drifting through the rooms
Dark, heavy clouds trailing my every step




Intervention

I just entered my version of rehab
I’ve been exiled to a far away land
No one wants me back
They all want me to make it
I’m going through detox right now
I’m losing my mind already
I just want it to stop
I keep asking myself, “When will the pain go away?”
I have no one else to turn to but myself
I cry myself to sleep
I don’t think I can make it
I’m pushing myself to pretend I’m okay
I feel so alone

Scorching Flames

Thrown into a world so different and unfamiliar
I scream with all my might just to be heard
I wait for words to resonate through the air
But to my dismay, they just fade without a trace
My tears rage within my ailing soul
In broken pieces I live
To take flight into salvation I hope

Yesterday’s Visions

Vanishing memories, so fleeting and vague
Forgotten yet still hidden deep within
Both haunting and enchanting
Pierces right through our weary hearts
It is easier to succumb
Holding on is a scorching burn

Reflection

Day in, day out
Tedium blinding me from rapid thoughts
As my calluses start to grow, I lose sight of myself
The image I see in the mirror fogs up into a misty cloud
Breathing
Pools of seemingly endless depth shimmer in the darkness



Reveries

Time passing quickly
Beautiful moments slowly fading
Eyes fixed on the raging storm
Twirling from within
Threading intricately through me
Waiting for my oasis
For now I stand still
And wallow in this heavy cloud

Beautiful Slumber

Smoking
Breathing
Living
Accepting
As the clock ticks, we stray into oblivion
Thoughts become stagnant
Nothing matters anymore
All our pains and worries evaporate without a trace
Not even a spec is left to prickle our frailness
Tomorrow will never come
Yesterday does not exist
I stand beneath the starry blue
Eyes shut, I peer through my world of dreams

Home

Departure time
As summer gives in to dreary fall,
Silence lingers in the dark foliage
The pastel grey sky shades the world like a silver net layered over the sea

Parting Skies

A single moment of clarity
Everything we thought we had lost
Everything we believed we have accomplished
All this just disappears in an instant
We shudder, breaking us into minute pieces
As the thick fog starts to settle,
We curl up at the sight of beaming rays from the morning sun
Beauty enchants us
Under a blanket of solace, we sleep

For You

Here’s a memento
Something to remember me by
In the midst of the never-ending distance
That breathes more and more each day,
Allow me to exist in your world
Let me be a tiny piece in your elaborate puzzle

Fuck, that's the only word swirling in my head right now. What the hell am I doing with my life and how did I get myself into this kind of situation?

I just worked 12 fucking hours today but do I feel even just a little bit fullfilled about my life? Not even a single bit! I'm worn out and I feel like fucking shit. They say life gets easier as time goes by but the truth is that it only gets harder! Call me a hypocrite for saying all those flowery words of hope and making myself believe that I can go beyond my limitations! I'm only human, am I? I make myself believe whatever I want to believe. So let the real damn truth be told! So what is the real reason why I am here in the States? The damn truth is that I was sick of everything in Manila. I was sick of the way I was turning out to be and the way I couldn't seem to get a hold of myself anymore. I just wanted to escape from it all. I wanted to run away to a place so far that I wouldn't be able to feel anything that would remind me of the person that I was. But now that I'm here in the States, I'm just missing everything about Manila. I'm missing how even if you fucked up so bad, people would still be there for you no matter what. I'm missing it all so damn much. I didn't think I would ever reach this point wherein all I have are my words to hang on to but I guess I'm way passed that already now.

I know this entry will raise a lot of eyebrows and all of you might be thinking, "some things never change." But I'm not going to disagree. I haven't changed and I'm starting to realize that the place can never really change a person. The person just learns to adapt and that is basically the only change. I feel like I'm living another person's life in this entirely different world. I'm just going through the motions of life here, trying so desperately to keep myself sane and preoccupied. How long can I go on pretending? Am I really trying to lose myself completely? To be become a totally different person? Is that what I really want? I'm not really complaining about work or about the kind of life I'm living here. I'm just complaning because of what's inside me. It's the ultimate inner struggle. I'm not happy, that I know. Neither am I at peace as well. Everyone else says that this is just a means to an end. But is it really worth losing your soul?

In the four months I spent in North Carolina, what kept me going was the idea of me moving to San Francisco. I would always find myself in these reveries, walking the bustling streets and being one with the diversity of the city. Even if it was all wishful thinking, I still believed that it could happen. I wanted to think that if I believed in it enough, "the whole universe would conspire to help me achieve that goal", in the words of Paulo Coelho.

And true enough, an unexpected turn of events seemed to have paved the way for my move to San Francisco. Just when I had already given up all my fantasies of living the city life, a window of oppurtunity presents itself to me. I get a call from my mom, telling me that I have to go back to Manila so that I can join the family for the 50th anniversary of my grandparents in Macau. At first, I was completely reluctant about this proposition. In my mind, I knew that if I went back home this soon, I would lose my momentum in adjusting to the life in the States. But after being convinced by my other relatives to come back home and do it for the sake of the happiness of my grandparents, I gave in and decided to go back. I just convinced myself that this was going to be practical since I was going to be moving to San Francisco after a month anyway. I was reassured by everyone that this would be the perfect transition for me. I can plan things out in Manila before moving to San Francisco to stay with an uncle of mine.

This was basically how things fell into place for me- After my lola found out that I wanted to move to San Francisco because I believed that "it was the place for me to grow up" so to speak, she immediately suggested I stay with a first cousin of hers who lived downtown. Of course, my being excited and rash made me jump at the oppurtunity in a snap! I didn't care if I hadn't even met that relative of mine. The only thing that mattered to me was getting to San Francisco as quickly as possible. Why the rush you might ask? I guess I was scared that if I sat and thought about this any longer, my chance of moving there would just disappear. So it was settled, I was finally going to move to San Francisco. I knew the hardest part of this process was going to be going back home to Manila. And true enough, it was. For the first few days I was in Manila, it felt surreal being back. Just when I thought that I wouldn't be seeing everyone and everything in such a short span of time, I was back to my old reality. It was a bittersweet experience being back again. I guess, a part of myself enjoyed seeing all my friends and family. However, deep down, I had this sense of emptiness and distance lingering throughout my body. I guess the way everything was so abrupt caused all these emotional turmoil. It didn't take long though before I got sucked back into my old paradigm. It was like a vacuum. It sucked me in so fast I felt like I wasn't even gone for four months. My train of though changed so radically and all my focus seemed to have deteriorated completely. After the trip in Macau ended, I tried so hard to place things back into perspective. But to no avail, I became as lost as ever. I knew I had to go back to the States because it was a choice I had already made. However, at the same time, I had seemed to have lost sight of my goals and dreams. Even if I knew what they were, I could feel the drive anymore. It was like the passion I once had disappeared completely. All I could do was tell myself that things would fall into place in time.

The time had finally come for me to leave Manila once again. It was one of the most overwhelming experiences I had to endure in my life. A part of me knew it had to go back to the States. But another part of me wanted to just stay. I was completely torn and I was starting to get a feeling things were going to get worse. When I finally arrived at San Francisco, I knew I was entering an entirely new reality. Unfortunately, even if all my pre-conceived notions had manifested itself in the city, the factors I had undermined had manifested themselves as well. One of the biggest factors was fear. Unlike North Carolina, which is so safe you can walk around in the wee hours of the morning and not worry about being mugged or stabbed, San Francisco was not exactly a safe haven. Since having a car in the city wasn't exactly the most practical thing, I knew I would be taking the bus to get around the city. What I enjoyed the most about riding the bus was seeing all kinds of people from all walks of life in one place. As idealistic as this is going to sound, I felt one with the world. But apart from this beauty of diversity that presented itself in the most mundane things, the dark side of the city also made its presence felt. Crime was alive in the streets of the city. From the most obscure places to the scariest of people, all these seemed to have crept into my psyche, giving me an excessive sensation of paranoia and fear. It also didn't help that I was alone for the first time in my life in a city that was pretty much a stanger to me. Even if I was living with an uncle of mine, the circumstances I was in didn't help much for my situation. We were generations apart and to make things worse, we seemed to be living in different wavelengths, making communication virtually impossible.

So it had happened. The fantasy I thought I would be relishing turned out to be a living nightmare. The homesickness I was experiencing hindered me from immersing myself in my newfound independence. At the same time, I felt like I couldn't even be myself in the place I was staying in. It was the most enduring mental and emotional struggle ever. So many times I felt like disappearing into the shadows of my dark room. Everytime I would take long hot showers, I would feel so helpless, I would end up breaking down until I was so tired, I would just collapse into bed. Whenever I would walk around the city, I would feel this dark cloud hovering over my head, making me feel more lost as time went by. In my head, I would keep telling myself that this would all pass. But my soul felt like it was breaking in way it wasn't supposed to break. Then one day, the most unexpected of things happened. My uncle sat me down and told me that my living arrangements with him weren't working out. At first, I felt so crushed that my fantasy would have to end so abruptly. But after taking it in with a clear mind, I realized that this was my saving grace. Nature had once again slithered its way into my life, paving yet another path towards my destiny. I guess San Francisco was just a detour for me. It made me realize that I had a lot to learn about independence and living in this great big world. Even if I wanted to believe I was ready to face the real world, the fact of the matter is that I am not.

So here I am now, back in Apex, North Carolina once again. People might think it was such a waste I couldn't have lived in San Francisco. Maybe so. But if you ask me, I know I need to be here for now. I know that, along with my cousins, who are also in their own journeys, finding themselves, I will be able to find what I am truly looking for in my life. I may have lost myself again along the way but I'm not giving up that easily. This is my reality right now and all I can do is make the best out it.

I've been thinking about the past a lot lately. I've been trying to figure out if I've actually made a difference in my life or if I've just wasting every single bit of it. I can divide my life into three phases. The first would be my grade school life. The second would be my high school life. And the third would be my college life (not that it's even over and done with yet)

I remember when I was in grade school, everything was in black and white. There weren't any in-betweens. Life was simple and I couldn't even conceive of anything evil happening to me and to the world. My day was basically all about going to school. Studying and trying to follow all the rules of the teachers and the student handbook. There was absolutely no stress. During recess and lunch, I would either play basketball in the scorching heat of noon or play touch ball with our improvised hankerchiefs in the narrow corridors. I have to say that life couldn't be anymore beautiful than my childhood days. I can never forget the times I would play endlessly with my Batman and Power Ranger action figures, creating these make-believe situations, making battles with every tangible object surrounding me. Cartoon shows such as Babar, Arthur, The Justice League and The Flintstones would entertain me immensely, making me believe that I would stay in that blissful state forever.

After graduating from the seventh grade, I knew everything was going to change in my life. It was one of those vibes that was so strong that you could already feel the change settling under your feet. High school was all about self-discovery and testing my limits. It was about understanding relationships with girls and as well as understanding what true friendships really meant. I will never forget the class nights I had in the Ateneo High School. Playing basketball until the wee hours of the morning and talking to my classmates until the sun came out. Those were the days. On the other hand, this stage of my life wasn't as bright and sunny as my pre-high school days. It was all about making countless mistakes and putting myself in situations that made me learn how to deal with pain. High school was my glimpse to the real world. From smoking to drinking to trying all those things that could be categorized as evil and bad; all these attracted me in such a way that I found a new form of happiness. That kind of happiness took form in escaping. The beginning of rebellious acts had begun and I started to understand what it meant to break all boundaries and comfort zones. It was all about pushing life to the limit, no matter what the consequences would be. I can deny it. This was the most exciting phase in my life. Looking fear straight in the eye and trying to get around all the universal rules was probably the biggest high I've ever experienced. From cutting classes to the mass cheating conspiracies that became legendary; these all brought color to my life that was being rattled in such a big way, even I could not control it anymore. However, this phase of my life wasn't just about delinquent acts and temporary happiness. There was another aspect to it as well and that was the spirituality and depth, which was undeniably the life-altering part of that whole experience. In times of tragedy and hopelessness, I learned how to turn to God and leave everything to Him. I guess I had to learn this in a way that wasn't exactly as random as being caught with cigarette by your parents. There must have been a reason why I had to experience one of the harshest realties of life which was death. It's true what they say that death strikes when you least expect it. After my dad passed away, life never seemed so much bigger to me. A moment of clarity took hold of me, making me realize that we only had one life to live and all we could do was seize every moment of it. This was where my inner struggle began. A dichotomy of good and bad lived within me like a weighing scale constantly shifting from one side to another. Reality was starting to settle and I knew there was absolutely no turning back.

Entering college was an entirely new world for me. It was like a miniature version of the real world. I guess after going through so many things in my life, this phase was all about knowing what kind of a person I really was and being to able to find my "real self". I can't say I've accomplished much in my two years in Ateneo. I guess more than half the time I was in school, I was just distracted and wanted to escape from the tedium of college life. Even if I did get by with my grades, I can't say I ever felt fullfilled, for the exception of a handful of subjects I actually enjoyed such as English Literature, Asian History and Media Production. But putting aside my frustrations in school, I have to say that I succeeded in my pursuit for pleasure. For some reason, I was able to feed my every impulse, covering the many scars I had from playing with life's fire. I constantly struggled to redeem myself every time I faltered. But everytime temptation would show its face, I couldn't help but succumb to its beauty and flair. Weak you might think? I would have to agree. That's what I get for going against my every intuition and conscience. Life just bites back in a way that will make you shudder with fear. But the irony of it all is that the fear fades away and we still find ourselves in the exact same situation. Until now, I still don't know if being in the States is saving me from my demons. Sometimes, I feel like I am being saved. But other times I feel like I'm only escaping from my demons; that the place I am in just prevents them from taking over me. In spite of the cloud of doubt that hangs above my head every single day, I can't deny the fact that so far, I've been having an overabundance of life. Even if the future still seems unclear, I take comfort in knowing that however my life turns out to be, I am still living my own life.

It has only been two weeks since I left Manila and yet, I've never struggled so much in my life. Even if I'm pretty sure that I've gone through far worse situations than what I'm going through now, this just feels entirely different and unfamiliar. I think the worse part about going back here to the States is knowing that you're pretty much on your own. It isn't like being in Manila where we can find outlets and sources of comfort in an instant. It's really the solitude that grips you so tight you feel like exploding. I don't think I've ever felt so helpless in my life. And the worse part of being in a foreign country is that you can't stop thinking of what you've left behind at home. It's weird. When I left for North Carolina last May, I didn't really experience homesickness or withdrawal from leaving my friends and family. When I think about it now, I think it was because two months before I left, I was already forced to deal with a difficult situation- and that was my broken arm. It's funny how life seems so much bigger than us when we know we are not in control of our circumstance. It reminds us that we are merely mortals that walk aimlessly around this earth. Sounds too philosophical? Maybe. But I have to say that right now, I need something big to happen to me. Something so tantamount that will make me believe that I'm here in the States for a reason that goes beyond comprehension and logic.

I'm going to be completely honest here. I feel like going back to Manila. Right now, I feel like I've been cornered to a wall and all I can do is accept every blow life plans to throw at me. I just wish I could shut my mind off for the next few years so I can breeze through this so-called life that I'm living in. It seems as though I'm losing myself all over again. Is that a good thing or a bad thing? I don't know. I can only hope that this emotional and mental turmoil I'm going through is just a passing phase. Don't get me wrong though. I'm all for the experience. But right now, I just feel like slowing down. Reality is just sinking in way too fast and I don't think I'm ready for it..Or maybe more like I don't want to be ready for it.

I just hate human pride. I thought I was able to convince myself that I was ready and that I was strong enough to take on another world and start over. But here I am, living in resentment and dwelling on what could've been. I know I'm facing another crossroad in my life. Both paths are equally difficult in their own way and have their own share of repercussions. Right now, I can only stand and stare, waiting for the right sign. Hopefully, in time, I realize what kind of life I want to live. It's not about what people expect me to do or what seems to be the most sensible thing to do. It's all about picking what kind of life I want to live..Cause after all, we do only live once.I might as well live the life that makes me happy,right?

Ever since I got here to the States, the one thing I've been battling with is fear. Aside from the endless mindfucking that goes through my head, I can't help but feel fear running through my body. I know that I have every reason to be scared of living in a foreign country. But the thing is I was scared for reasons that had no connection with adapting or fitting in. It was more of a fear of not being able to change for the better and fear of failing. The main reason why I moved to the States was to "save myself." As sappy as that sounds, that is really what got me here. It wasn't my mom's idea to send me here nor was it anyone else's. This was my decision and even if everyone and everything seemed to be against it, I still stayed persistent and made sure I got here. I mean, even breaking my elbow couldn't stop me from leaving. I just honestly believed that a change of setting would do me a lot of good. Even if I had no solid proof that it would alter my life completely, I still couldn't brush off the idea that it would be my saving grace. After being here for almost four months, I can look at myself in the mirror and tell myself that I am slowly saving myself and that I am actually living my life for myself. Everything I've done here has been my own doing and I have no one else to credit or to blame but myself. I know it sounds like something so petty. But I guess for me it's a big deal. When I think about the life I had in Manila, I feel like all I did was drift and float around like nothing mattered. Everything was all about impulse and feeling. All I wanted was to feel different emotions all at the same time right away. I just had this insatiable desire which I couldn't seem to control. But after working for four months and seeing how tediousness and perseverance are really part of reality, I've discovered a newfound kind of high. And that high is the feeling of empowerment. I never thought I could feel so empowered and fullfilled by working and actually paying for all the bills and expenses. Don't get me wrong though. It is undeniably hard work and more often than not, I just want to quit and go back home. But I am still here and I know that as every new day passes by, I am a better man. I can already see it. This year is going to be a year of struggle for me. It will be all about overcoming bad habits and experiencing new things. The fear still lingers in my mind. But right now, I'm just going to do what scares me.