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Trails of a wandering soul

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.

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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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Letters to the Wall: Part 1

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ONCE UPON AN IRISH SPRING

Like everyone else’s story, ours started with a simple hello.

It was August and the rain has just started pouring in like needles falling from the sky. I barely remember how I exactly felt, but I did realize it was time to embrace the possibilities and gave myself another shot.

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However, our story isn’t like any other love story you read on fairy tales or fiction novels. Ours, I doubt, has something to do with love in it, even when you know how lured I am with the idea. Consumed in each other’s fondness for anything only you and I can understand, we sailed on a year trip to what we thought was a journey together that will perhaps in time, bring oneness and profound understanding of our own messed up selves, but still be able to accept all the more flaws we discovered every day of each other.

I could say it was you who found me…at that time when I was busy started making memories in an oddly different means. The time and phase of being there yet too far away for us to touch each other’s hand, it left me broken without you knowing it. I cried in my sleep for something I could not tell you and then wake up the day after feeling like all is perfectly okay. We laughed and had bitten each other’s tail when we refute, even minute subjects that burst out of nowhere. And we said sorry and got on.

With you at the other end waiting, I felt relevant and wanted, not because my feet are nice or because you think I am smart. By being with each other while everyone’s in slumber, I developed a yearning to face each day with a decent spirit because I know somehow; someone is struggling also—keeping up a fight on his own. I had to be tough. I had to be stubborn not to concede easily, to be what I am not in real life. Many times you said I was being stubborn or too confident. I said, no.

In truth, I was neither both. I was just slowly falling into the trap I knew since day one, I may have to jump into in time…which I now did. I was just sadly, trying not to fall in love.

And then there comes the consequences of going further to a point where the ideas already choked you. I contend not with the world to lose you desperately, but myself. Could it be pride then that forces me to do the unthinkable? Or was it something only I alone could feel? Whatever drove me to hit that send button last night to end it all, I know one day I will regret it as I did with Tim. I know the ghosts of my escaping heart breaking through the forest of solitude will come and haunt me time and again. The floorboards creaking in the middle of the night, even the sound of an alarm reminding me what time is it in a land far away or just seeing the movie we often talk about, would left me morose, perhaps even, angry at myself. I know it’s going to be tough but I am letting you go, anyway.

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The future sunsets I dream to share with you every end of the day as you come home tired from work, they will never happen ever. Not even seeing me barefoot with my oversized pajamas as I prepare our every late night meal in the kitchen. No more of that, darling.

No more dreams of Irish spring when flowers begin to grow again. Or winter or the happy summers together.

August is so close at hand. In barely forty days, my favourite month will come waving at me again with her hellos of rainshowers. The rain would be great. As a pluviouphile, it’s all I ever wanted to see after months of fighting the heat. But this year has been quite different. As it ends, I found myself coping up with the truth that summer is on its final stage. I felt betraying myself for loving the sun this year when I should only be comforted by the sight of rain pelting the dried dusty paths of the sidewalk.

In between every petty argument, I knew somewhere there was something none of us can do to pursue what we’ve started.  Rather, I felt a stinging blow every time you mention of our time together wearing socks or being barefoot exploring life in the future. But I do not live for dreams this time. I want it to be real. I shall be missing you then as soon as you relent to my request of freedom, but you know, I can keep up with this life still. I am good at that—pretending to be okay when inside, the walls are already crushing in on me.

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