Thinking about P.N.

Oh not again. I don't know why I'm thinking about Pablo Neruda again... I'd rather post his piece here.

If You Forget Me

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.

Pablo Neruda

And, I'm glad you didn't forget me...

Cat's Dream

How neatly a cat sleeps,
sleeps with its paws and its posture,
sleeps with its wicked claws,
and with its unfeeling blood,
sleeps with all the rings–
a series of burnt circles–
which have formed the odd geology
of its sand-colored tail.

I should like to sleep like a cat,
with all the fur of time,
with a tongue rough as flint,
with the dry sex of fire;
and after speaking to no one,
stretch myself over the world,
over roofs and landscapes,
with a passionate desire
to hunt the rats in my dreams.

I have seen how the cat asleep
would undulate, how the night
flowed through it like dark water;
and at times, it was going to fall
or possibly plunge into
the bare deserted snowdrifts.
Sometimes it grew so much in sleep
like a tiger’s great-grandfather,
and would leap in the darkness over
rooftops, clouds and volcanoes.

Sleep, sleep cat of the night,
with episcopal ceremony
and your stone-carved moustache.
Take care of all our dreams;
control the obscurity
of our slumbering prowess
with your relentless heart
and the great ruff of your tail

by P.N.

Only when I write

Like right at this moment, finally done with four stories (my quota for this week).

It's only when I write that I feel like my life has a sort of meaning. (Grin) I'm pretty much sure that I'm not really expert on this skill, but this is the only thing I know I can do right.

Like what I always say, "It's only in writing that one can be exact." In writing, I can still delete an idea, add something that just came up, control the number of words I have to say, and even forget about the entire idea that I tried to compose.

In writing, I can take all the time in the world, as long as I know I still have enough before the deadline. And, in writing, I can have a conversation with myself without opening my mouth, like a schizophrenic.

In trying to write a story, whether something that happened in my past, or somebody's that I witnessed, or something that I totally made up for the sake of immortalizing my fantasies or imaginations, I feel like a writer. And,it's where my dream of becoming an author begins, when I feel like a writer and behave like one.

And, only in a moment like this, when I'm done with my quota and submitted them to the editor, that I feel like I'm working, and deserved remuneration. Huh! Life is good!

You're still normal!

One day in a breakfast meeting with my co-author, who is the owner of several business establishments here in the city, I spoke about a predicament preoccupying me lately.

Should I be thinking about how to make more money than how much I'm earning now? Am I already too old to plan about my career which is synonymous to income, considering that business plan or career path will cover 10-15 years?

Then, he told me, "You're still normal."

He said if I would receive a million right then and there, I might be ruined.

True enough, I don't know what to do with such big amount of money!

Let nature take its course. We all dream of a good life and need more money than what we have. But it doesn't mean that's what we want right at this moment. Good life is relative. What is good life for you, anyway? For money is but a by-product of our so-called success or should we call it fulfillment.

If one dares to venture overseas for a huge sum even without an inkling of his or her job and life there, he or she may not linger especially upon reaching at the (big word) CROSSROADS.

One must be prepared whatever risk he or she may take whether in search for a greener pasture or for a meaning or purpose of one's existence.

I finished my breakfast not only with a full stomach, but a full heart and clear mind. Maybe, we all need even a single breakfast with a friend or someone who's not akin to us, to destroy some cobwebs in our minds.

Only to be reminded that amid pressures and anxieties, we are still normal. Live life each day!

(reveal your thoughts to me at lorie.cascaro@gmail.com)

Moving on

It's time to do the real thing now that you already know what you really really want to do for the rest of your life.

Just wake up early, read and read, write and write, laugh and laugh, run, swim, climb and bike, then get enough sleep.

Experience life today!

Fairy tale as it is

They said fairy tales are for children. They believe in them but when they grow up, they started to discover reality.
I'd never believed in fairy tale even when I was a child. But, it just dawned on me that if I were to choose to believe like a child again, I would believe in fairy tale. After meeting once again someone from a long lost childhood, I decided to keep that child in me.

But then, reality never fails to slap my face! Fairy tale is just as it is... If you want to avoid nervous breakdown then keep your feet on the ground and GROW UP! So as part of being sane and appearing to be mature, I suddenly summed up everything there is in a song.


Fairy Tale

It seems what I believe is not true.
There's really no "Me and You".
It's nothing more than just a dream.
No amount of hope could make it real.

Maybe the chance came too late.
Everything's in place. We can't change fate.
Meeting you is not a chance at all.
It's just to see how high my hopes fall.

Let me swim into your thoughts.
Let me stay there for awhile.
Let me hold your hand to feel your soul in me.
Let me keep this fairy tale in my memory.

Sometimes I'd like to think
that we could make North and South meet;
we could swim through the ocean;
we could walk through the clouds.

Sometimes I'd like to believe
that you're the prince in my dreams;
that what I believe is true;
certainly, it's me and you.

Let me swim into your thoughts.
Let me stay there for awhile.
Let me hold your hand to feel your soul in me.
Let me keep this fairy tale in my memory.
Let me keep this fairy tale in my memory.
Let me keep this fairy tale in my memory...

Maggots in my mind

Leave as much as you want to stay
Eat up all my preoccupation until nothing's left
As you take my brain, include my heart.
Race through my lungs until I stop breathing.
Seep through my veins until every strand is blue.
Clog my heart until it stops beating.

Leave as much as I want you to stay
Take away all of you that's left
in my heart, in my mind.

As you decide to leave, leave me a scar
like the tattoo on my calf.
Leave it black, black as my lungs.
As you leave, leave at once.
Never leave a couple of squirming worms
in my veins...

Because it doesn't matter now
If nothing's left as you leave.
A single memory that you've been here
is enough souvenir
like the tattoo on my calf
forever embedded in my skin.

Half-time

It's been awhile since I haven't thought of spending some time for myself. I guess, I need to go out and bathe under the sunshine (the hell with El Niño!). All of us need a break from all the routines and hectic schedules.

I just want to swim! I want to feel the embrace of the sea once again. I want to feel the sand on my soles and the warm breeze on my skin. I miss doing these things! This is a great therapy to my soul.

Taking such time for oneself is also a chance to transcend from situations.
Some call it the "half-time" like in the basketball game. This is a wonderful time to search for meaning of one's existence. It's the moment to clarify one's goals and strengthen the commitment to pursue and actualize these goals.

I badly need my half-time! See you there!

Alon at Dalampasigan

Alon kang dumampi
sa pisngi ng dalampasigan ko.
Ang dagat na naghatid sa'yo
Ay s'ya ring susundo
sa paglisan mo.

Kasing saglit nang isang nakaw na halik
ang iyong pagdating at pag-alis...

Hinding-hindi kita sisisihin
sa pagguho ng kastilyong buhangin,
sa pagbulahaw sa tahimik na sa kaibuturan
ko'y humihimbing...
nang ika'y dumating.

Huwag mo rin sana akong sisisihin
kung sa paglisan mo'y iyong tatangayin
mumunting bato, sabay sa kumpas ng hangin.
Tila mga kamay na ayaw nang bumitaw
habang ikaw nama'y sa malayo nakatanaw.

Ganunpaman,
ikaw pa rin ay lilisan.
Subalit, hindi kita sisisihin dahil ika'y alon
at ako'y dalampasigan...

Sisisihin ko ang buwan
Tanging ang buwan lamang.

Before Christmas

Because of the prevalent concept of consumerism during Christmas season, people tend to forget one significant World event of the year. We are supposed to commemorate the International Human Rights Day on December 10, 2009, fifteen (15) days before Christmas day.





Honoring one's human right is greater than any Christmas gift. The basic rights for a decent shelter, clean and nutritious food, and a job to sustain a living. Even if our times do not blatantly portray the vileness of a violent regime, they are but continuation of the perennial plight of the poor people. No one of power and control of the nation's wealth dares to become Santa Claus to these unfortunates, underprivileged.

International Human Rights Day is celebrated before Christmas for us to realize that the spirit of Yuletide season is empty if we remain indifferent to the calls of our fellow men.

Join the march of about 5,000 Filipino laborers, students, professionals, women, Moro and Lumad people, church, and employers of public and private offices in Davao City on December 10, 2009.They will be chanting to call for justice of all the victims of human rights violations under the Arroyo administration.

(For details of the event, email me @ lcascaro@yahoo.com.)

Smoking is Healthy?

I come across this website which, unlike other advocates against smoking, introduces an idea that smoking is "healthy." Unusual, huh? Try to look at these.

Prevents Cancer?
Several studies had proven that almost a hundred percent of the causes of lung cancer is accounted for smoking. The risk for women to suffer from this including other respiratory diseases are a dozen times more than a normal person who doesn't smoke. However, there was this study which shows that smoking can lessen upto fifty percent of women's risk to develop cancer in the breast. Some medical practitioners disclaim that smoking is really the main reason why people get cancer, first or second hand smoke.

More smoke, less cancer?
It has been mentioned that "smoking kills" is a particular proganda which just came too suddenly in the era of civilization. Going back to the ancient times when our ancestors were puffing smoke from some dried leaves rolled inside another kind of leaf, the word "cancer" was not yet formulated. Some elders would say that as the world gradually become modernized, more and more diseases emerged along with this modernization.


True enough that cancer is disease not only triggered by smoking. But, as to the question whether or not smoking is healthy, I'm not here to give a correct answer. Some smokers live longer than those who did not smoke. Some said our elders live longer than the new generation even if smoking had already been part of their lifestyle (but in a primitive way). I say, if you're concerned about living a healthy life in this too much polluted, GMO outnumbered and UV rays infiltrated planet, then you should know your own body. There's no other expert evaluator of everything you introduce into your body but yourself.



(Reveal your comments to lcascaro@yahoo.com)

Spagcrazy!

I have no time to expatiate why I love spaghetti and that I started going crazy about it since my first taste of such red-sauced pasta! I just want to have a plate of spaghetti this weekend! That's all! As yummy as this!

If you know a place that has the world's most delicious pasta, kindly tell me at lcascaro@yahoo.com! Bon appétit!

Of Death and Graveyard

I just came back from a cemetery in the northern part of the city. It was my first time to visit such place. It's neither a good experience nor a bad one.

A wide LCD screen welcomed the visitors by showing "Pacman's" recent fights. I wondered if I were in a feast or something.

What amused me is the carnival just beside the cemetery. I saw a ferris wheel, tents of Ukay-ukay (rummage sale) and all sorts of gimmick to allure the visiting relatives and friends. Then there's a pack of vendors of flowers, candles, peanuts, ice cream, accessories, and kakanin (native delicacies). There were bigger tents of an aspiring president and a mayor for some volunteers for rescue and whatever stuff they could provide for the public.

The air was redolent of burning incense... But, what I heard from the graves were the loud noises of people from merry rides.

It is the typical poor man's grave. There are no exclusive gates and tombs are like shanties in squatters' area. Distance between each tomb is barely a meter. There's this thing they call "appartment" which has three levels of piled up tombs if the family of the deceased could not afford a grave lot.

While looking for the tomb of my demised uncle, my mother spoke to me without any expectation for a good conversation. She asked me if she were dead and buried in some place, would any one care to visit her or be as unfortunate as those unattended tombs we passed by.

I just gave her a smirk. "What a question?!" I told myself. But, then, this thought chagrined me for awhile until we came home.

Death is inevitable and being buried in some graveyard is part of it. But, visiting a tomb of a person you're once with is a tradition. It occurred to me that this special visitation is not for the dead ones at all but for those who visit. By visiting and saying prayers for those who left them, they feel at ease. They imagine a reunion with the dead at the last spot where they know the lifeless body went. That is why even if the cemetery is as inconvenient as that one, they still spend time for awhile.

But, I really swore not to go back to such kind of place on all saints or all souls day again.

The soul of the dead could be somewhere else joining the elements in the universe. So, anywhere I may be, I can whispher a prayer for and spare a moment to think of that person. I'm not saying this as an answer to my mother's question. Graveyard is still a holy place for me. I just expected it to be solemn and serene place to meditate and reflect for your deceased love ones.

If my graveyard were as a carnival-like as that one we visited, I'd rather be cremated and blown to the sea. I'd ask my family and special someone to go the beach and experience the breeze while thinking of me.

I pray for peace of all the souls who are now free from this hellish world.

Reclusion

If your shadow is not cast
on my doorstep tonight,
If your eyes do not meet
mine tonight,
if your palms do not touch
mine tonight,
if your breathing is not
near my ear tonight...

then, tonight is not ours.

as the light slowly envelops the night,
and so our mystery ends...

Harder as it gets

In one of the episodes in the first season of Felicity, Felicity Porter (Keri Russell) said "Relationships are hard. They just are..."

This holds true in all relationships. Regardless of race, color, religion and whatever human aspects. There's the thing Descartes calls, Dialectics of relationship. Just when you say there is good, then there is evil. In every thesis, there's anti-thesis. That's dialectics. Two opposites clash but they need each other.

Baxter and Montgomery state that in a relationship there are dialectics that are inevitable.

1. Connectedness and Separatedness
You have this urge to be together most of your time but at the same time, you also want to have some space.

2. Certainty and Uncertainty
Being spontaneous in the relationship makes it more exciting. But, too much spontaneity could also lose the trust. You may think your relationship is getting nowhere.

3. Openness and Closedness
You want your partner to know everything about yourself because you already belong to each other. But, you are scared to tell him or her just about everything in your mind because it may be the reason of your break up because your partner didn't like what you said.

These contradictions rule every close relationship here on Earth. What can you do about it?

Balance. It's easy to spell but really hard to do. Most couples who were not able to do this thing did not actually make it. Some committed themselves through life time but are still struggling. Some divorced, others left. But there are also some who were still there until the other half's death. Who knows if they still had kept the fire burning all through their years together. but the thing is, they were able to struggle and stay.

I'm actually writing this to convince myself. I keep on telling myself the line I mentioned earlier. And, I say, "it's harder as your bond gets stronger and deeper." Sail on and prevail!

Hunches

It occurred to me just yesterday that some of my hunches really were true.

Hunch no. 1:

Corina Sanchez-Mar Roxas wedding is a political tactic for Mar's candidacy for presidency.

What happened when Mar suddenly declared his giving way for Noynoy and run as Vice-President instead?

No more cheeeezzzzyyyy features in showbiz news about the engaged couple.

Hunch no. 2:

The public was just overwhelmed to cry for Noynoy's presidency in 2010 because of Cory's death.

I've been receiving anonymous text messages everyday about how much property does Noynoy's family have, jokes about job generation plans of Noynoy if he were the president --- the companies that will be present in job fairs will be of his family's businesses.


I never disliked the late Cory Aquino for being the kind of president that nobody ever mentioned in the media since her demise. Maybe it was because only few of us have really learned Philippine history. Or that the book we used in our history class was not really telling the truth or somehow was using a different perspective. It must be a perspective to promote and preserve the mask-reputation of the personalities. Well, in fact, history for most of us is just about dates and people.

Nevertheless, if it were all about people, heroes or idiots, nothing so real had been revealed. People deserve to know the real accounts of the events in the past to learn from them and use their lessons for the betterment of the future which eventually become a new history.

There are only a few things that I know about Cory and the Cojuangcos, which prove that I'm not also a diligent student in my History class.

1. The Cojuangco's owned the Hacienda Luisita. It was the sugar plantation where hundreds of tenants were killed by gunshots when they protested against the injustices they experienced at work. That place was once a blood pool of the toilers of the Cojuangco's land.

2. The Comprehensive Agragrian Reform Program (CARP) was approved during the term of Cory. Before its extension just recently approved during the 14th Congress in the HOuse of Representatives, thousands of farmers marched towards the gates of Batasan calling for a genuine land reform program, because for 20 years, CARP had been a big bogus reform which Cory made for the Filipinos to believe on. The truth is Hacienda Luisita and all other land that her clan owned had never been subjected to CARP. It must have been crafted so cunningly!

I'd like to extend this enumeration up to 5 or more. But, I guess, I'm not just "not good" in History but also in memory as well.

Going back to the hunch thing, those anonymous text messages and satirical jokes are not just black propaganda. They must have some bases aside from the two things I mentioned here.

I haven't decided who to vote in 2010 elections. I'm still thinking who is the lesser evil of all the candidates. But, even if he or she is the least evil of all, I still won't vote for anyone. Only those who could walk what they talk during the campaign period deserve my vote.

In the last three elections that I was able to exercise this "democratic" process, only one candidate had my vote. The partylist -- one that genuinely represents a marginalized sector and not like that of Palparan's.

One last hunch:
Noynoy will endorse Mar to run instead of him. Chismis!

What are birthdays for anyway?

Does my title sound so bitter? Heh... I hope not. I was just caught by this moment of reflection. I guess what has really brought me in to this is the clinging sentimentalism and romanticism passed on by our parents, grandparents, great grandparents and so on. You see, my mom had always taken me to a studio for my birthday picture since I was one year old. It lasted until I was seven. I used to have a children's party with my cousins and friends in the neighborhood. My birthday would not be complete without the blowing of candles on my birthday cake and receiving gifts from relatives. Well, those were the birthdays I had until I was seven years old.

Since then, I lost most of my birthday memories. I can't remember when was the year when I had dinner with my family in a Chinese restaurant, or when I just had a lot of drinks with friends. I can't even remember how I celebrated it last year, or did I?

But, there was one birthday that I couldn't forget. It was in the year 2000 when I celebrated it away from home, not even with my closest friends, but with the people I started to live with in some remote area in the island. That was when I chose to spend a few months with the peasants. They were good people. I lived with them, ate with them and even took a bath with them beside the flowing cold spring in the village. They slaughtered their native chicken for me, offered a lot of yellow bananas from their farm, and cooked the maja blanca with the ingredients sent by my parents from the city.

I just turned 17 years old at that time. That's the only birthday that remains so vivid in my memory. A celebration which had given me so much meaning to my existence and defined me as a wonderful human being.

In the next hour, I'll be officially 26 years old. I've been thinking that birthdays are just for kids. When you're still a kid, you always look forward to your birthdays because you wanted to be a big girl or boy so soon like your older siblings. When you're still a kid, you wanted to grow old sooner than a year so you could do things on your own, without asking permission from mom or asking money from dad.

But when you started to age like 25 or 26 (like me), you started to deliberately forget about your birthday. You wanted to stop aging and be like or look like a child again. When a new acquaintance asked me about my age, I asked them back what they think. Most of them said, I look like 19, 20, someone even said 16. I know most of them have similar answers because I have this conscious effort to look younger by staying cheerful and youthful.

I'm evasive in a way to tenaciously deny my true age. Unconsciously (of which now I'm conscious about), I deny this growing old because I don't think I have grown up. By coming out young, feeling young, I create my elusive world of less responsibilities. It's not that I hate responsibilities or that I don't want to be responsible enough. I just don't think I'm able to fight procrastination to move on and face the challenges of growing up or being mature in that sense.

I think that's the story behind all this "bitterness" on birthday. That's how I started to be practical and non-sentimental about it. I don't even celebrate it anymore nor ask for something special to happen to make it memorable just like owning a balloon that my parents bought from church after lighting some candles for a prayer.

It just dawned on me that I should still give this birthday some sentimental value especially that I've already passed a quarter of a hundred lifetime (or that I have 4 or 5 years left to complete the numbers in the calendar). I feel like shaking and chiding to myself: "Hey, don't you get it? You're already 26! Grow up! Make a life! Make a person out of yourself!"

I'd like to have a toast for that tomorrow! Happy Birthday to me!

Monetize

I was in the mood to customize the look of this blog when I noticed the MONETIZE tab next to layout. With a bit of compunction whether or not this will surely give me money, I tried it. Because I had seen almost everyone's blog has it, I followed the instructions and enabled third party cookies and java scripting. And, then I signed up for adsense account.

So, there I have it --- "Ads by google!" I hope I'm making sense (cents) here.

Procrastination

It's been three months since I came home.

Although it brings me back to the people I love, coming home is not actually a relief. In fact, it has given me a clearer picture of a life that I should have been ready to face and struggle through five or six years ago.

Going back home is facing the things I had evaded. Top of the list is financial responsibility. Being the eldest offspring gives me an automatic conscience to be aware of the needs of my family and to assume some vital tasks when my parents could no longer provide.

Things of this sort have preoccupied my mind since I came home. I would like to take a leap and materialize my plans. I would like to see the person I should be at this age and at this level of experiences.

Unfortunately, I feel that I am stranded. I landed on a wrong ground, not my niche.

I cannot focus and do the things to be done because of tormenting preoccupations. Preoccupations that are full of "What if?", "How to?" and "How I wish!"

I had been too much preoccupied. I didn't realize that I was procrastinating.

"Stay where you are"

I was reading Jostein Gaarden's "Solitaire Mystery" when I came across this line: "My advice to all those who are going to find themselves is: stay exactly where you are. Otherwise you are in great danger of losing yourself forever." It was Hans Thomas, whose mother left him when he was 4-year old.

When I was back home, what made me immediately decide to experience living away from my hometown was the common line of most undecided fellows: "Finding oneself."

Well, now that I'm here and about to go home, I've been thinking about what Hans Thomas said. And, I am now decided to go home and stay there because it's where I was.