Collective Unconscious

Nothing could have stopped us then.

Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now lyrics, in the past tense. Well, in my past tense. And this is a work of meaningless experiment. Don’t assume :P

Looking in your eyes I saw a paradise
That world that I found was too good to be true
Standing there beside you, wanted so much to give you
The love in my heart that I was feeling for you

We let them say we’re crazy, we kinda cared ‘bout that
Put your hand in my hand baby, but you always looked back
You didn’t let the world around us just fall apart
Baby, we could have made it if we’re heart to heart

And we could have built that dream together, standing strong forever
Nothing should have stopped us then
And if this world runs out of lovers, we’ll still have each other but only still as friends
Nothing should have stopped us, nothing should have stopped us then.

I was so glad I found you, I wasn’t gonna lose you
Whatever it took, I’d have stayed here with you
Took it to the good times, but we didn’t see it through the bad times
Whatever it took is what I was gonna do

We let them say we’re crazy, what do they know
Put your arms around me baby, but you let me go
We didn’t let the world around us just fall apart
Baby, we could have made it if we’re heart to heart

And we could have built that dream together, standing strong forever
Nothing should have stopped us then
And if this world runs out of lovers, we’ll still have each other but only still as friends
Nothing should have stopped us, nothing should have stopped us then.

Ooh, all that I needed was you
All that I ever needed
And all that I wanted to do
was hold you forever, forever and ever

And we could have built that dream together, standing strong forever
Nothing should have stopped us then
And if this world runs out of lovers, we’ll still have each other but only still as friends
Nothing should have stopped us, nothing should have stopped us then.

You’re never fully sure of who you are or what your life really is.

But the more you strive to conquer this uncertainty, the more you know about yourself. Also the more you realize the gaping hole of the same uncertainty getting bigger and bigger as you go along.

When you are a child, you might dream about becoming a teacher, an astronaut, a housewife, a doctor, anything you want to be. You grow up and it’s either you march on with the same dream as your goal or you realize the better options there are in the world for you. But neither path gives you the fullness of your life at present and ahead of you. You keep discovering things you never thought you’d come across. You meet people you’re surprised to like or hate or understand. The world has so much to offer, a wide array of possibilities, chances, options; and though you might not take all of them with you on your journey, they affect you in ways.

This is not morbid, actually it’s a positive thing to say, that you fully become YOU only when you die. You’re that 100% of the person you have fought so hard (or so easily) while you were living when you’re already dead. You’re yourself’s unchanging entirety of you own definition only when you’re not living anymore. Your living soul and body is an enhanced draft for each and every day you still wake up in the morning (or noon, or afternoon, or night, or midnight, you get me). The final manuscript’s only finished when you stop breathing. That’s why biographies are mostly published after someone’s death. It’ll be hard updating them books when the person’s still living.

So make this uncertainty an advantage. You never box yourself, and you shall not attempt this. And you shall not let others do this. You are always capable of change. But let it be for the better. Don’t hesitate to healthily experiment. Always strive to fill that gaping hole of uncertainty and don’t let its depth, emptiness, and eeriness terrify you.

You are what you have always been, but you’re always so much more.

Parang libro.

Para na lamang siyang isa sa mga lumang paborito mong libro. Alam mo na nabuksan mo, nabasa at nasubaybayan ang kwento. Pero hindi mo na maalala lahat. Kung ano ‘yung kulay ng suot, amoy ng damit, itsura ng buhok, o mismong mga salitang winika niya. Siguro pwedeng kabisado mo pa ‘yung memorable lines. Pero kakaunti na lang din. Kung kailan na lang din pumasok sa isip mo ang panahon at pangyayari kung kailan niya sinabi ‘yung eksaktong mga salita, tsaka mo na lang din maiisip. Susubukan mong balikan ang storya, mabubuo nga, pero sa tema ng kabuuan na masyado nang “generalized” at “summarized” (hindi tulad ng synopsis, chapter by chapter!). Hindi lang dahil matagal na ang nakalipas na oras at paunti-unti mo nang nakakalimutan, pero dahil na din ginusto mo unconcsciously na itambak na ang masaya (na naging mapait na lang noong di ka pa over, natanggal ang bitterness nung naka-move on ka na) na alaala sa kalikud-likuran ng utak mo. At kahit anong hakot o dukot ang gawin mo, puro bahagi na lamang at hindi kumpletong alaala ang nakukuha mo. At dahil sa kabiguan mong ito, mas susubukan mo pang buuin ang alaala. Sa proseso ng pagsubok mo nito, mapagtatanto mo ang katotohanang ang dami pang pwedeng alalahanin. Tapos susubukan mong alalahanin muli yung ibang pwede pa. Pero malabo na din. Lalim na rin ng narating sa utak mo, hindi mo na abot. Hindi amnesia. Alam mo sa sarili mo andun lang ‘yung memorya.

Sa inis at gusto mong maaalala ‘yung kwento ng libro, hahanapin mo ‘yung libro para basahing muli. Pero tatlo lang ang kahihinatnan mo. Matutuwa kang mahanap muli ang libro, babasahing muli, mula sa umpisa hanggang sa dulo, pero alam mong magwawakas ulit ito (makikipagbalikan ka, tapos maghihiwalay din kayo, kasi natatapos din ang libro). O kaya naman, hahanapin mo ‘yung libro, pero hindi mo babasahin ang lahat, magsisimula ka lamang sa ibang kabanata o hahanapin ‘yung mga nakalimutan mong pangyayari (maraming interpretasyon dito: mamimiss mo ‘yung tao, tapos susubukan mong makipag-close ulit, o kaya magiging close nga ulit kayo, pwede ring maging “mutually beneficial” na ginagawa niyong panakip butas ang pareho sa butas din naman na ginawa niyo sa isa’t isa na alam niyong ni kailanma’y hindi na maaaring takpan o tapalan, o in short, friends with benefits (na lang), anumang level naiisip niyo). At ang natitira, malulungkot ka na wala na ‘yung libro, naitapon mo na, may nagnakaw na, itinapon na ng kaibigan mong napapangitan sa libro na ‘yun, sinunog na ng nanay mong may issues sa libro na ‘yun at either hahanap ka nalang ng bago (o luma din) na libro o sequel noong same na title, depende sa manunulat o publisher noon, pero maghihintay ka pa ng kaunting panahon (interpretasyon: hindi mo na siya babalikan, mapagtanto mong sayang panahon mo kung lolokohin mo na naman sarili mo, inagaw na ng iba, inilayo ka na ng mga kaibigan mo sa kanya, pinagbawalan ka na ng ermats mong balikan siya at maghahanap ka nalang ng iba, ibang old flames o bagong lovelife, basta hindi siya, o maghihintay ka ng bagong beginning niyo pero pagkatapos pa ng ilang panahon depende kay God. Cheverloo di ba? Siya yung manunulat o publisher ng lovelife mo teh.)

PS. Kung yung sequel/series pinipili mo lagi at break pa rin kayo ng break, bagay na title analogy sa kwento niyo… “Series of Unfortunate Events”

Another one of those nights

I need to sleep.

I’ve already done my ‘rituals’ before sleeping, done all schoolwork due tomorrow (or later), but I am still up, awake, and with thoughts and ideas just coming out of me.

This, blogging, would have happened more often only if we had internet at the condo. But then I’m not so sure if it would have been beneficial or not if that were the case.

Just this ‘Add a Text Post’ staring at my face and my ‘emo’ iTunes playlist sparking off even more inspiration to write something almost nonsensical (‘emo’ iTunes to be explained in another future post)

I thought I’d have myself focus more on the ‘practical’ things (see I don’t really consider this release of musings practical to me, see I was reared to always think of practicality, but then see if I have given in to that rearing I wouldn’t be pursuing being an artist, so, good luck analysing all things I’ve said within the parentheses) if I become busy with those things consequently. But I was wrong (if I were right, I wouldn’t have used ‘I thought’ at the beginning of the sentence). The more I try to concentrate myself on the ‘general practicality of life’, the more do I feel the LACK, the desire, and the need to get away from it all. I am happy and sad at the same time and indefinite varying degrees that 3 units of Philosophy have contributed a LOT in this constant realization and necessity to be ‘madrama’ at times in my life (I remember being like this as early as 9 years old, with ponderings even heightened up by my listening to Norah Jones’ album Come Away with me on repeat, alone in my parents’ bedroom).

I have cried for no specific narrowed-down reason earlier this quarter of year (bear with my specific ambiguities). I knew it was normal (at least for someone like me?). I knew I had a tough year (not so tough but hard enough to have made me cry) and I just had to let it out even for once. I needed to be weak to be strong. I’ve associated refraining from crying as a strength: not because crying makes me weak but the ability or power to stop myself from crying is already something to make me believe I’m strong. But somehow I knew I needed the tears to prove me a point. That unknown point, that now seems meaningful and helpful to me.

Now I do not know where my post is going again (I make up the ‘main argument or theme’ in my posts along the way or when I’m forced to do so as circumstances require me to finish). At the end of the previous paragraph I thought of all the people who have helped me get through in all ways possible ‘this quarter of year’. So maybe this post is to thank those people. Thank you.

You can see my post ending as Trish arrives and I am to give her back her Smartbro stick. thanks, Trish!

And do not try to see me as Mo Twister having an emotional breakdown (if it’s what happened…Idk what really happened, just thought it was cool to mention this).

And yes people I am okay. Blame my Philo prof Dr. Garcia if you’re suddenly worried about me.

(I do not intend to read this post once more, I will only find no cohesion and coherence).

Truly, I’m kind of gasping for air.

I need to breathe.

Right now, life’s not so perfect. It’s okay that I’m not suicidal but it’s not so good that I wish I can escape. Escape. Yeah, that’s what I need. Air to breathe. Escape.

So many things are happening around and inside me (I wish not to enumerate those events and incidents). Socially, emotionally, financially, mentally, I’m stable, but there’s this certain troubling part in me that makes me doubt those aspects of stability for numerous spurs of the moment. Something happens, I reflect, I overthink. I grow fear of the next thing coming. Philosophizing…I really don’t know if it’s helping or ruinous.

I’ve tended to pattern the way I live on the collage of others’ lives. NO. The proper sentence would be, I’ve tended to find an abundance of patterns on the way I live and come up with a seeming collage of others’ lives. I have no goal of getting this point across successfully but it’s enough for me that I have expressed it.

If a filmmaker were to make a movie out of my current personal conflict, it’d be so abstract even the jury of Cannes wouldn’t appreciate it. I feel so few a people (and I think not even a lot of my true close friends) would connect and relate to my situation enough to say that they “understand”. Even I myself would often lose the path to defining my present situation that it’s hard gathering the pieces again to make up a kind of map that would take me back on track. The process could have been worthwhile only if it had been the road to breaking free of this trouble inside, but no, it’s a tedious process only to go back to that painful journey (and God knows how long this would take).

Seriously I have no instrument similar to a compass (as you can see I’m arbitrarily typing away whatever comes to my mind that my hands are able to speedily keep up with, and therefore there are thousands thoughts even more that are dissipated since they weren’t immediately accommodated) to guide me at the moment. I see life throwing many dimensions of my misadventure randomly at me that I cannot make sense of almost 90% of them (that’s just a random percentage, but I think it’s appropriate; the deciphered 10% just burdens me with the restating that I am troubled). Since I’ve already used some figures and numbers, let me relate my predicament to a math riddle or problem that’d take a group of expert mathematicians days to solve. But of course a math riddle or problem or equation do not equal the being of a person. And who knows, who can calculate, the parallel unit of days of a math riddle to that of my obscure being.

My being is not fractured, but I am afraid it will be after this journey of eliminating the haziness of my being. That in the process of attempting to clear things out, I have unintentionally and unconsciously broken my self apart and forcibly rearrange the pieces back together that will, by then, prove that I have a fractured being. Imagine a Sudoku, with every box filled with numbers, with no empty spaces. It is unsolved, but that unsolved Sudoku is my being, still whole. With the will to solve the puzzle, you carefully erase the numbers to make way for numbers not to repeat in a column or row. Then you realize the Sudoku’s difficulty’s above the average. So you try even harder to solve it. So you erase the numbers more and more that the paper have gone damaged because of the continuing friction from your pencil’s rubber. You take a long time to solve the Sudoku. Finally you finish. But as you look at the paper, it’s too evident you’ve tried so hard you almost tore the paper (and there are already holes in it)… Finally I’d solve myself. But as I would look at myself, it’s too evident that I’ve tried hard enough I almost disassembled myself (and there are already gaps in me).

I am often open about my feelings. True. I am often open about my feelings that I know are easy and untaxing to understand and listen to. I am afraid of the worse complication of sharing a feeling and not being understood.

Kaboom. I’ve lost the path again. Where was I?

I am a bomb. But I am not ticking. Time doesn’t limit me, because time, in the orderly sense, has become irrelevant. Therefore, what is relevant? I wish I knew.

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RAW RAW RAW pictures. No editing/processing whatsoever done except for watermark and conversion from RAW to JPEG. :)

All pictures taken by me, with Hobbes my camera (otherwise specified). :)

Another hell week through. It’s heaven for now.

By far the hellest hell week ever. Dominant stress-contributor: Theology.

Monday, we had a long quiz in Psychology. I made a reviewer Sunday night but I wasn’t able to read it though. Maximum benefit of the paraphernalia unattained.

Tuesday, my dreaded first long test in Theology. Spent almost 4 hours in the library feeling like a nerd studying and waiting for the test which was at 6:00 that evening.

Wednesday, beginning of the laborious editing of photos for Theo. Had difficulties getting used to using a graphic pen and tablet. Also, started composing (I was only in charge of the lyrics. :P) a song for the Timpalak Awit sa Kagawaran ng Filipino.

Thursday, unpreparedly took the Fil Long Test. I swear (guiltily though, :P) I can accept the fact I’m gonna fail that darn long test because I was supposed to study for it Wednesday night but all I had been able to do was sleep. Free cut on Com 100 and boy I was annoyed—I should have just brought my laptop to continue editing pictures. 99% finished composing the song. STUPIDLY SLIPPED MY MIND IT WAS ATE ANIE’S BIRTHDAY. I blame all the schoolwork for that.

Friday, the weekly quiz in Theo. Good thing I already had in mind the topic she gave for the quiz. Had a brainstorming session for the BlueScreen film contest and went home right away after to start my written Theo report. Passed it late because of lack of time and BECAUSE WORD FOR MAC CRASHED, ONLY RECOVERING HALF OF WHAT I’D ALREADY DONE. Ignored the fact that I still had 100+ pictures to edit and surfed the internet, watched videos on Youtube. Finally realized I’m killing myself for wasting my time.

Saturday, 7:00 morning, finished editing the pictures. Slept for only two hours for we had a meeting for Com100 at 9:30 am. After the meeting, straight to the cornfield to our NSTP jeep. Insertion. Went back to Ateneo.

And now, I’m in NLEX, going home to Bulacan. Still undecided if I’ll sing at Ate Anie’s birthday “bash”.

It’s raining. :) And that’s a good thing for a person who loves the rain.