Trails of a wandering soul

Overbearing Melancholia

I am writing not because it’s mother’s day today or because it’s All Souls day or because it is both. I am not particularly picky about what to write about today. I guess I have written enough of what has gone since more than a month ago to start digging up the grave again where I had left off. It’s exhausting to even think I would have the heart to even consider that. But on second thought, why not? This is exactly why this has been here in the first place, right?

It’s been pretty much the same. Nothing new has come up. I still rant about my exhaustion with work. Sometimes when I think about how the career has gone since I joined in, at some point, I wished of having the nerve to tell the boss that the multi-tasking I do is already beyond what I am capable to handle. I had been juggling with more than the usual stuffs I used to take care of before that promotion and this has gotten a bit crazy. I don’t have a life beyond work. When I should be spending some time with friends or families on some days because I deserve to give myself times to recharge, I am instead spending time at home doing homeworks. I understand, I am getting less efficient than I used to. I can’t even look people in the eye for fear that they might see how broken I truly feel inside. I lost a part of me there where I found what I once hoped for in life. And just how ironic life can get.


I am not going to wish about things that would never come. I will work for it to become real instead because only then will I begin to start living again.  I felt so alienated with my old self that I find it hard to accept the person I have become now. Not that I have turned to be a terrible person. I have become tougher than I used to, more opinionated and straightforward, even blunt with my choice of words especially when dealing with corporate politics involving alpha males in the organization. I think people have already began to notice that, although some still see the old self in me— unabashedly kind, considerate and diplomatic. All of these changes I had to put up because my responsibility calls for it and I am held captive without a choice.

As I walked on my way home last Thursday night after yet another exhausting day at the office, I realized just how I miss being alive. The moonlight awakens a deep longing to keep my life at still and just appreciates the world around me. I stopped and looked up above half smiling. It was past ten in the evening and it was unbelievably bright and quiet. Where I live, it is surprising that people had already surrendered to the call of the night at that time. If anyone ever saw me being too emotional, well, it was the least of my worry. I was thinking about a lot of things and I knew right then and there how lonely I had become over these years. I just miss being alive. It is like those overwhelming moments when you saw someone laughing over something trivial and you know it was a genuine laugh and you start to think of the last time you did the same. As I head home, I smiled for the sudden euphoria of having the chance to witness such a beautiful night. But I was crying at the same time which was probably more obvious if you saw me than I was about being happy. I used to see the grandest nights of my life when I was younger. However, these moments seem to drift and disappear as I grow up. Despite how difficult life has been when I was young, it is during these occasions where I am mysteriously transported to the past that I realize how I loved my simple life before.

This made me wonder how mother must have felt about hers.

Almost every year during her birthday, she would travel all the way to her birthplace in San Remegio which is a bloody 131 km by bus from our place. We let her because we know she misses being there. She misses her parents who were both buried in a remote cemetery in Busogon and her siblings who live nearby. I’ve only been there a number of times and I definitely understand why she braves the agonizing crowd every year just to be there. Does she also look at the moon every night and cried in silence for the times she could not recover? Did it occur to her to wish that life was something different?

Most of the times, I would miss seeing mother before she leaves home. During All Souls Day when we should be spending time together because it’s her birthday, we go on our lives separately. Father would leave home early to go to the cemetery and offer mass, my brothers who are both married will go with their families. I would go there late in the afternoon. As I woke up moments ago, the silence in the house beacons that indeed, mother has already left home. And she’s not coming back til I guess, tomorrow morning. I am not sure.

I would have wanted to buy her a cake but it seems nothing will change this year.

Staying Drunk and Getting Lost

Days have gone from bad to worse. The longing and the rift between who to take heed continues and I am left always wondering what the ‘what ifs’ could actually bring should I let go and leave. The pull became stronger each day as I wrestle to fight for those who have relied on my physical presence and support.

Every night, I needed to recompose my thoughts to remind myself why I cannot leave for now, no matter how devastated I am inside. Whatever the odds, I needed to be here where I am because this is how it’s supposed to be. And I die everyday for my dreams, of concealed pursuits to find myself and the real purpose of why I am actually here for.

But then perhaps, this is the only purpose I was destined to fulfill.

I wish for time to stand still for me. I cannot afford to chase after lost dreams because I was once tied to this. They say people who keep wishing are those who have unfulfilled lives. For the most part, they are right and it saddens me. Every silent wish I say and dreams I intentionally let go sends back a harrowing sadness within. A void that rift apart my soul. I cannot keep on wishing all my life. Somehow, someday, these heartaches have to stop. But not today or tomorrow.


© Google images

But I know, there will come a time.

The hardest moments to reckon with the thoughts of being free from this bondage, are those when silence suddenly sits in and my mind became idle. Those moments as I lay on my bed and my mind cannot keep from wandering or those moments of having been awaken from a deep sleep for no reason and you could not fade off to sleep again. Those long pauses of bus rides as I am stuck in a heavy traffic. Those times I would see something that reminds of my innate calling for passions I could not held in my hands. Those times I’d see my reflection on the mirror and hated what my eyes showed me. These are the hardest truth of having existed in a world where you do not actually fit in. I try to feign happiness and muster the guts to smile and find contentment at what I do, telling myself that by allowing myself to die everyday, I have in exchange helped somebody better live their lives. I needed this reason to keep me stay focus at what I do and keep my struggles at bay.

All of this at the expense of my own happiness.

The way I feel right now, is like trying to stay drunk for as long as I could take because I could not keep up with the reality if I don’t. Though, I had no idea how it is to really be drunk. Yeah, I might try it once so I would know as it is the great metaphor of my existence right now. As long as I am sealed in its spirit, there won’t be worries of whether this thing is what makes me happy or not… or if my heart is breaking.

It has been a pretty emotional ride I am getting myself on. Obviously. Some have asked why I am letting other people see my vulnerability and weaknesses when I could have chosen to keep it private. Why I am wearing my heart on my sleeve when I could have drowned it. Why? Because I do not know of any other way to set my heart free of its burdens. This was and always been the only means I knew since I could remember. I’ve been writing about anything since I was in grade school, scribbling anything at the back pages of my notebook and worn-out books that Mother brought back from the library. I cannot imagine myself without a pen or a paper or something to record my thoughts, my emotions, my life. I think that would be the end of me.

So please just let me. Just let me be. I have embraced this brokenness and I know how fragile I could become. How crushed I could get as I strive to live. But just let me be.

Perpetual Battles and Free Spirits

It is in moments like this that I realize how amazing the world can become any minute. The world transforms from one form to the other in a blink of the eye and we are dragged on to remember and relive each passing moment with grateful hearts for every opportunity that makes us more in tune with the clamor of our own craving souls… I am rather a free spirit enclosed in a shell. And today, my heart is anywhere but here.

The horizon has become too captivating to not desire ever or be tempted to escape. Again, the battle for freedom ensues with seemingly no end. Freedom, what do I know about you other than how I already lived at present? Why crave and fight when I already have you? But whilst the sun rises and sets where it should be, I shall bask at the glory of every magical moment I witness, still not putting to rest the need to drift with the dandelion somewhere. I have yet to embark on that lifelong mission, but where the wind blows, know that my heart and soul is there…

I could only break into heaven’s door with this shout-out—say Geronimo! And I shall never look back again.

Image credit: WFDI

Image credit: WFDI | Model: Angeline

In the Heart of the Mediocre

I have very simple goals in life. One is, to never desire to get rich.

I worked not for the money alone but for the learning that awaits me, for the experience, for the bond that some perfect strangers will make— weeks, months and years later. In exchange of all these, I sometimes accidentally put myself at risk because as you know, I’m worst with partings. I tend to get too attached to people that when the inevitable comes, I find myself broken over and again. But all in all, everything is worth it. There’s nothing to regret about for the things I’ve done and didn’t do. Every person I met, every task I accomplished, or new learning I gained won’t come my way had I opted to stay in my comfort zone nibbling popcorn and drowned myself with soda.

Whereas one key factor to consider when choosing which career you take is good paycheck, it does not ultimately moved me to jump on in on careers that claimed the highest-paying in the market. Because salary, to me, is secondary when making career-shifting decisions. Money gives you power—it gives you the power to finance your other goals, fuel your other dreams besides getting richer. It gives you the buying-power. Consequently more money entails more buying-power. And the hunger for more continues in a terrifyingly endless cycle of having, getting and being more than what you presently have. Man’s thirst is insatiable.

That is not how I envisioned my life to be.

I’ve always wanted a simple life. A home packed with real, happy and contented people. My goal is never to accumulate more wealth than what’s needed. You may say, that’s not entirely rare of an idea because that is how the mediocres think—and exactly the very mindset of a lot of unsuccessful and lazy people. You could be right to some degree on the first. But there’s an indispensable truth about mediocrity that liberates us, self-confessed mediocres. We do not aspire to become or have more because we are content with what we have or who we are at the moment. That is how I incorporate my lack for the urge to aspire to have something more or become something greater in my daily life.

In terms of material possessions, I am contented with what I have. I, for one, cannot assure that being more or having more will in the end, makes me a happier or more fulfilled person. That is why I do not aspire. I just do what I believe is appropriately needed and see how things will fall into place.

However, I do consider my lifeboats in case circumstances will take a different course than what has been planned. That’s how insurance companies came to life. Yes, I needed those to put some uncertainties and a lot other things to death and put to rest my doubts of the unknown future. But then again, never for the reason of getting more than what I genuinely need to survive a simple yet happy and contented life.

I live for the moments that make me more in tune with my own humanity.


Image credit: WFDI | Camotes Island

Everything in life is non-permanent. Riches, power and glory are temporary. They fade and change course like the weather without warning. We have seen great people who stood at the pedestal like kings but hiding behind false laughter and smiles and scars that even money could not heal. Those who have all the riches in their hands but could not make one family, genuinely happy. That’s what I fear—being consumed by all that the world has offered and ultimately lose myself in the process… and forget being human.

Letters to the Wall: Part 2



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