to new beginnings of a sort

In a few short weeks, if I can get all my papers in order, I will be flying to Seoul to participate in a six-month fellowship program.

to never allowing the world to box you into labels

invent yourself and then reinvent yourself,
don't swim in the same slough.
invent yourself and then reinvent yourself
and
stay out of the clutches of mediocrity.
invent yourself and then reinvent yourself,
change your tone and shape so often that they can
never
categorize you.
reinvigorate yourself and
accept what is
but only on the terms that you have invented
and reinvented.
be self-taught.
and reinvent your life because you must;
it is your life and
its history
and the present
belong only to
you.
~Charles Bukowski, from The Pleasures of the Damned

the broken heart within.

I wrote this tiny essay in my other blog three years ago  as a form of tribute to my dad . I can't believe he's been gone for three years. I still miss him badly.

Mar. 16th, 2008
1:08 AM

My daddy died yesterday, he was 62. He and I got along pretty well, I was always daddy's girl and as a child, would throw the biggest tantrums when he couldn't come home for my birthday even when I knew that his work required that he stay in Southern Philippines. I have always gotten my way as a child, pampered and doted on as the eldest daughter. He was never one to get mad at us, neither did he shout and he rarely punished us for whatever childhood prank we got ourselves into. I can't remember him ever saying no to any of my requests. I remember being a freshman university student and not knowing how to get home after dark. My dad would pick me up from school every time I had to stay late at the university. I also remember one time when he was hospitalized , he was more worried that no one would pick me up more than anything else. As I had posted in one of my infrequent entries, they found a mass in his liver which turned out to be cancer. Things went downhill pretty fast and last night he succumbed to his illness. He passed away peacefully in his sleep surrounded by his daughters. And although in the course of the past week we knew that this day would be coming soon, I didn't think it would be this soon. I feel as though I've been crippled, as though a huge part of me has been lost forever. I have been living with him for the past 15 years, since my sophomore year in college and I dread coming home to an empty apartment, no dad waiting for me to fix him dinner and listen to my various stories. In that 15 years, we have had our share of misunderstandings and spats mostly stemming from what he considers to be my inability to focus. But through everything, he has been my cheerleader, my advisor, I already miss him sorely.

Daddy, thank you for always listening, for always keeping me grounded, and for being an all around wonderful father. I love you. I miss you so much.

a small ray of light

a while back, I realized that I have been working in one way or another for the past fifteen years. and things seem to be looking up at work these days, but I'm remaining cautious. Only, now I know I should learn to be more grateful.

these days...

these days I am learning to appreciate what I have, to love my work and be grateful for the fact that I have them. Although there are still days when getting out of bed to go to work is just too much damn work, most days, my good side wins.

W tells me she's envious of the fact that I seem to have so many options, as I told her of my potential training opportunities and the fact that work at NL for the first time, seems to be going well. Me, I'm a little paranoid about how well life is going. I fear that the other shoe might drop any day and I might find myself with nothing. I'm also scared of the fact that I seem to accept these things as proper, due to me, owed even. Like the universe finally gets it. That I am being given these opportunities because I deserve them, because I am good. But believing in your own press? that could be bad, could allow you to relax, to be lazy. I need to gain perspective, and the people who help me gain perspective are miles away, or in the case of my dad, up in heaven. Then my friend J sent me an email, outlining how she has given up on her dreams and following up on a new one, despite the lack of support from her family, and the more I feel that I should be grateful for what I have. Because despite the fact that I have continually disappointed her for not sitting for THAT exams, my mother has not turned on me, nor has she turned her back on me.

But as I said, I still feel paranoid, some days I still feel, the other shoe, its hovering, and when it does, I'm never going to know what hit me. But on most days, I feel cautiously optimistic about it all. I hope it lasts, I really, really do.

baby you're on your way

Today my baby sister is leaving for medical school and for the first time in forever, I will not be sharing an apartment with one of my sisters. I still can't quite believe time has flown by so fast that my little sister, that cute toddler I would take with me to school on weekends when I had to work on a project with my friends in high school, that little girl I used to take to school and attend parents meetings for, is now a young woman going off to study medicine. I can't be more proud of her. But I'll certainly miss her. Take care and Godspeed Pots, see ya on the flipside!

this cold, damp weather inspires dark thoughts...

The days slowly bled into months, months growing into years, years that should have at least softened the emotions, but instead worked to sharpen the feelings of dissatisfaction and sadness. The bitter pang of regret remained. A sharp underlying prickle which never quite left her. She had hoped it would go away at some point, and in some sense it did. Days filled with purposeful toil and mindless concerns blunted the edges somehow, quieting the voice inside her head. But sometimes, on cold, dreary days, when even the soul shivered as the body huddled, wrapped tightly in blankets, when her defenses succumbed to the torpor of the season, that sharp prickle would emerge, as though to say, remember me? I am every dream you ever gave up, I am every opportunity you did not seize, I am every potential you wasted, I am the life you should have been living. Was it worth it? Throwing your dreams and every one’s expectations away to live a life half-lived; marked by the flickering shadows of a computer screen; of endlessly stringing and sharpening words for others chasing the same dream or a semblance thereof, that you harbored all those years? Was it worth it? Worth breaking your promise to your mother and father, worth breaking both their hearts, worth desperately trying to make everyone understand that the dream had died far too soon and far too quickly for you to even begin contemplating to attempt to continue? And she thinks, it has to be, it has to be, otherwise the life she’s been living, the fragile house of cards she’s built, could topple down. Then the things she’s told herself, to convince herself everything was fine, would be exposed as a lie. This is the way she’s lived her life. And on cold, dark days, when she is confronted by her regrets, she prays for the sun to chase away the clouds, to shine on the dark corners of her mind and force these sharp honest thoughts back to where she thinks they belong, stuffed into forgotten corners and drowned once more in purposeful toil and mindless concerns.