Written Contusions

When I was growing up, I always watched anime. I love anime so much that it inspired my art and concept of beauty. I would usually draw thin, lithe figures when I draw people. In animes, most of the characters there were drawn the same way. Usually, the eyes of my drawings would also be big and round but there are times that I would draw almond eyes instead, so I can add an Asian feel to my figures. Even the hairstyles of my figures would be noticeably asian. I would usually style the hair of my drawings according to the anime that I was watching at the time. Even the clothes of my drawings are affected. Kimonos and obi sashes are among my favorite clothes for my drawings. Since a lot of animes have pointy ears, much like an elf, I would also fashion the ears like that. For me, those characteristics would add up to what I call beauty.

There are just a few things that I hold dear to my heart. Among those things are rainbows because of the beauty, mystery and hope that it brings. If I were to whittle you into a metaphor, you would be my rainbow. Niji as the Japanese calls it. Do you want to know why? You are my rainbow because you gave me hope, you inspired me but most of all, you tantalized me. You still do, actually.

Whenever I see a rainbow, I feel hopeful. After a dark day of rain, a rainbow will appear and the sun shines brighter after. You appeared while I was in a rainstorm. Through the gray haze of memory, I can still recall you vividly. I can still recall our first meeting. Do you remember when we first met? Off course you do! We just talked about it one Friday evening. I don't know if I can safely say that I love you but I have heard someone say that if something is as heavy as love, the heart can bear the weight. After two years, I am still bearing it. Because of that, I am still hopeful.

Seeing a spectrum after a gray day is totally inspiring. It seems that my imagination is always up in the sky dreaming wide blue fantasies. Sometimes, it is in some forest, looking for some green epiphany growing from the underbrush. There are also some instances where it is under the sea, trying to fathom the darkest mysteries, reveling in the dark. You know those things are true. However, you inspired me to stay on the ground. You helped me come to terms with the gravity. You turned my insane imagination love the reality of life, which I loathed. To some, it may seem that you stunted my growth but for me, you inspired me to reach out to something that I brownly feared.

After all that I have said, all good and true, you tantalized me. You still do. When I was younger, I honestly tried to follow a rainbow because I heard from the television that there is gold at the end of it. I really tried. I don't know if you know the feeling but it feels futile. The harder I ran towards the rainbow, the farther it seemed to be until I tried to catch my breath and when I looked, it was gone. That is how you tantalized me.

Niji, I can still bear the weight of my feelings. I can still flit between fantasy and reality. I am doubly inspired What's more surprising is that I can bear the frustration of being tantalized. Why? Because as I have said, you are my Rainbow, held dear to my heart. I just hope that unlike real rainbows, you don't vanish when I am not looking.

The inside of a deserted house:
from the window,
light illumines dust
settling to create a blanket
of forgetting over furniture.
Even if the air disturbs
the process, slowly
every particle finds its spot,
a place where it conveniently covers up
some distant memory - on a nearby table

a partial puzzle waits. One piece is still
a lost unsettled edge,indisposed.
The idea that it is the missing piece
completes its sadness.

In only one spot can the table top be seen.

Untouched, unfinished,
the puzzle succumbs
to slow forgetting
what is lost
while dust
fills
the
gaping
gap.

This is a poem I originally wrote on September 17th, 2003. I revised it after five years! It's been a long time since I last read this. I think I have forgotten enough of the emotions behind it so I am now able to publish a revision. Comments are appreciated, of course. Cheers!

This is from a collection called No End of Fun printed in 1967 and was written by the Polish poet Wislawa Szymborska. She won the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1996. This was translated by Stanislaw Baranczak and Clare Cavanagh. I interpreted it as an ars poetica of hers. I would like you to enjoy this poem with me. Read it aloud. Read like you were reading it for a child. Do it in a made-up voice and don't forget to sip a black, hot, steaming cup of coffee along with it. Enjoy!

Why does this written doe bound through these written woods?
For a drink of written water from a spring
whose surface will xerox her soft muzzle?
Why does she lift her head; does she hear something?
Perched on four slim legs borrowed from the truth,
she pricks up her ears beneath my fingertips.
Silence - this word also rustles across the page
and parts the boughs
that have sprouted from the word "woods."

Lying in wait, set to pounce on the blank page,
are letters up to no good,
clutches of clauses so subordinate
they'll never let her get away.

Each drop of ink contains a fair supply
of hunters, equipped with squinting eyes behind their sights,
prepared to swarm the sloping pen at any moment,
surround the doe, and slowly aim their guns.

They forget that what's here isn't life.
Other laws, black on white, obtain.
The twinkling of an eye will take as long as I say,
and will, if I wish, divide into tiny eternities,
full of bullets stopped in mid-flight.
Not a thing will ever happen unless I say so.
Without my blessing, not a leaf will fall,
not a blade of grass will bend beneath that little hoof's full stop.

Is there then a world
where I rule absolutely on fate?
A time I bind with chains of signs?
An existence become endless at my bidding?

The joy of writing.
The power of preserving.
Revenge of a mortal hand.

For some reason, I cannot stop myself from thinking about darkness and light. Yesterday, I saw several movies on HBO and the opposition of light and darkness kept popping up and kept on grabbing my attention. While watching, I wrote some notes about the meaning of those two words for me but I will need to reserve those for another blog post. What I am really interested in posting today are some of my dark art.

The first picture is of me and the rest were digitally distorted through Adobe Photoshop CS3 Extended Edition. Thank you, CS3, by the way! Because of you, I was able to artistically distort my face and become a monster. Why a monster, though? Looking at the time stamp when the files were created, I found out that I was in the dark phase of my life. Except for the original, the other three were done around January 31st, 2008.

I don't really know why I did this set. I was just exhilarated to try out the CS3, I guess. Hmm, I wonder! Perhaps, I was just trying to concretize the idea that I had, or rather, a question: "How would I look like if I was a monster?" I guess I answered it in those 3 pictures, huh?!

Oh well, since this is just a randomly blurted posted, I will just finish it off right now. I now have to think of some other project to do or entry to post here in my blog.

How convenient for me the rain fell before your tears
affording me to share one last moment with you
under my umbrella.

Every drop, wet
dreadfully cold, taunting you to stay
under my umbra of tempting warmth and dryness.

Your vain effort to stop the rain from falling:
You reached out to catch a drop
on your palm. It still fell, heavy
embodiment of sorrow,

loss

-of the cloud that failed to hold on
-of the wind not being able to return the drops.

Words condensed on my lips,
waiting for the moment
when air gives way to thunder.

How convenient for you that the rain lingered on.
Every word that rolled off my lips
merely fell into the dark
glassy puddle the rain filled
to reflect my bowed head.

Finally, I managed to plead for you to stay.
You nearly did

but conveniently,
the rain went away.

(August 5th, 2003)

This was a poem I wrote way back in 2003. It was originally entitled, "How Convenient For Me The Rain Fell Before Your Tears," but it seemed to be such a long title so I decided to repost that as, "Convenience." As a project, I am starting to gather a portfolio of my works so that I can share my poetry with other people.

Last Monday, the moon was almost full and it was stained with a yellow tinge. I am not really sure if it was still waxing or if it was already waning. Nevertheless, it still proved to be one of the loveliest sights I have seen all week. Contrasted against the dark sky and framed in feathery clouds, it reminded me of a conversation I had with my friend, Jayvie. We were talking about how wonderful it is to be in the light once again. In retrospect, we both experienced dark times and he is so glad that we were both in the light once again.

Jayvie was saying that it is so hard to be in the dark. There, he experienced sorrow and loneliness. He felt he did not have any purpose or direction in life during those times that he called dark times. He absolutely hated the idea.

On the other hand, I felt, and still feel, the opposite towards the dark. I never really hated the dark. Even though we felt the same kinds of emotions, I have maintained a kinder attitude towards the dark. Although I love light, I have also learned that darkness is also my friend.

As I was telling him the other day, my life has always been a cycle of light and dark moments. One of my friends, Cace, told me that I am one of the few people she knows that radiates happiness and optimism even in the saddest or most desperate of times. She referred to me as the sun; this tag felt so relevant to me because under my star sign, as a leo, my ruling planet is the sun. Usually, I am happy most of the year but there are definite times that I really feel miserable and sad. Before my birthday comes, I feel depressed. After that, I usually go back to becoming a star for a lot of people but once December comes, I usually feel depressed again. This kind of cycle goes on year after year.

Even though I feel miserable at times, I never really hated the darkness. If I am a sun during my happy times, I have always thought that I was a black hole when I feel sad. I remember a few dark nights when I cried myself to sleep as I clutched at my chest, believing that there is a black hole inside. If I radiate with happiness when I am the sun, I tend to gain a lot of strength and power when I am a black hole. I guess, it is the idea that a black hole has a great gravitational pull that makes me feel and think I am strong and mighty.

During dark times, I tend to be more creative. I tend to make most of my poetry, although just in the literal sense: at night. I got to solidify most of my principles in life during those hard trying times. I guess, that was back in 2005 when I formulated my own version of the Golden Rule: "Hindi lumiligaya ang taong humahadlang sa ligaya ng iba." During that year, that was also when I got to pull some of my closest friends to be at my side. I got close to Vince, who practiced wicca, and we shared the power of our words. When I asked for advice from Vince, he replied to me in a poem and this is what he said:

Chad,
Hi! Don't feel lost.
Read on:
The light is never lost.
It is vast as the ocean
And we are its
children.
We swim in the darkness
While the light is on everyside,
Mothering us when we struggle.
It is not lost,
But waits to be
grasped
Recognise the love of it
Like a dew saluting the sun
In the
humility of the morning.
-Vincent Oliver

Although it took a while for me to be happy once again, that poem proved to be so meaningful to me that I was able to write a poem and make a whole new blog.

I guess I really need to fall into a cycle of dark and light. I need time to recharge my spiritual energies during dark times so that in times of light, I am able to shine bright, strong and true. I have learned to embrace the darkness as an integral part of life. It may be a cliche but it is true that a star can only shine in the darkest of nights.

As you can see, I have updated the layout of my blog once again. Learning adobe photoshop has helped me create this layout from scratch and I my newly found knowledge has helped me get back into blogging once again. Sadly, I feel selfish about this blog layout so I didn't publish this in Blogskins.

Thanks to PSDTuts for the wonderful photoshop tutorials. I learned a lot. I got to practice through their tutorials. I think it is apparent that the result of the exercises was a success. I will link them to my site when I get the chance!

It's unfortunate, really. I have been sucked in by a vortex of sadness and insolation. I have been in a daze because of the, so far, four deaths of people that are in my generation. I've walked in a contemplative and wary way because I had this irrational fear of death. I figured that if Death was already coming for a 20-year old boy, what would stop him from coming after me?

I'm already 24 years old. I smoke a lot. Wait, that's an understatement; I am a chain smoker. I get myself drunk with coffee, although I also occasionally drink. I don't exercise and I keep myself stressed for long periods of time. I don't really sleep much. Hold on. That's another understatement because I rarely sleep. I have all the risk factors.

I know I have to quit doing all those bad habbits. Life's too short to live waste on irrelevant things.

Before my birthday, I felt so sad. It took a while to recover but I now feel better. Remember, I was writing about my second job? I finally quit working for a call center. I'm now in a day job and I feel fine about it. Although I still can't sleep, I am very happy to just read essays and help students fix any errors on the text. I think this is the start of something good for me.

Life is being good to me right now. By the way, I just noticed that this seems to be a very long overdue birthday post. I'm sorry I am too lazy. Well, there's still time to change.

Recent events have led me to go back into a state that I call Solemnity of Reflection. Because of the recent deaths, the painful losses and the radical changes in my life, I have retreated into a state that calls for reflecting on my life that demands a moment of peace. This started when my friend JaGurl passed away and has been reinforced by the murder of my cousin-in-law.

Although I am really not silent on the outside, in my head, I am trying desperately to calm the raging thoughts. I think I have reached the eye of the storm in me. That storm that other people might call their thought process. I have been in this state for about two weeks now and I think the storm in me is moving once again. I can start to hear the rustling of my hair.

Realizing that I have withdrawn into this state reminded me of my experience with my friend Donna and her cousins. I think it was a few years back. I have graduated from college already but I still kept in touch with Donna. One day, we decided to go to a nearby mall along with her cousins while we waited for time to pass. We were planning to go to a local rockfest. While in the mall, her cousin Dareese noticed that her cell phone was missing. We alerted the mall security and we almost succeeded in apprehending the criminal but she got away anyhow.

At that moment, the reality that Dareese' cell phone cannot be retrieved has finally set in but they were still full of chatter. I insisted that they take a moment to reflect on what had happened but they refused. I guess everybody is just different but I wanted them to have the solemnity of reflection so that something good could come from the negative experienced.

For me, the worst thing that could happen at the moment of a loss or misfortune is never really the event itself. The saddest thing is that a person cannot learn from an experience like that. I don't know if this means anything to anybody but I wanted to share this anyway.

So what really is the solemnity of reflection? It is a time to stay quiet and be still. It is a time to think. A time to look at all that is around you. A time to look to the horizons that limit the width and breadth of the world you live in. For what? That is to learn from mistakes. To listen for a hidden message sent by the Divine. Find the meaning to a blaring alarm that the Universe has sent to us in the form of disaster or unfortunate event. I think that to fail to achieve that state would invite more misfortune and disaster because the Universe will not stop teaching us the lessons we need to learn until we stop and take it in. I realized that the hard way.

What do you call the son of your aunt's husband? I know I should be calling my aunt's husband as uncle-in-law. Does it follow that his son is my cousin-in-law? His name is Jojo. He is the fourth since I started this blog! Fourth what, you may ask? He is the fourth person who died since the creation of this blog. It seems that all I can blog about is the death of somebody around my age.

I really don't know why I am so high-strung regarding these deaths. Other deaths did not affect me so much.

Perhaps, it's because those who died were around my age. Perhaps I am realizing that death is always at my doorstep, no matter how young I am. Perhaps...

I can't seem to let the idea of death go. I can't really seem to admit to myself that I am scared. I can't seem to stop thinking about it. It's driving me crazy.