Apples

When I said "things happen for a reason", I meant that there is really no such thing as coincidence. I'd rather believe that there is something or someone stronger and more powerful than we could imagine like a force or the universe conspiring for a condition to set before our eyes.

It was last Saturday night, or was it Sunday dawn when I encountered someone from high school. In spite of intoxication, we were able to manage a serious conversation like a brief time travel to our common past, our high school life. He was my batch mate who used to copy my notes and even answers during quizzes. He admitted that he couldn't forget about it.

I learned that he is already a policeman, trying to make ends meet after his live-in partner left him for London, with their son whom his mother is taking charge now. He said the girl hasn't spared anything not even for the kid. He barely can survive with P4,000 a month, a salary too small for an SPO1, but it's only what is left for him after all loan deductions. Yes, he had acquired loans when he was still living with the girl to capitalize a lending business only to end up bankrupt.

He was a pathetic man, I sympathized him. But, however depressingly he related his story to me, I can see hope in his eyes, in his voice. He asked me if I could still remember the bookmark I gave him during high school.

I recalled I used to make bookmarks painted with pictures using watercolor representing a saying or slogan I wrote on it. The one I gave him, he recalled, says "Don't put all your apples in one basket."

It's only that moment that I was able to recall who I was before. That I was this intelligent girl, with lots of friends, and sweet enough to give them bookmarks. And, I got these philosophies in life I shared to them written on those pretty little handcrafts.

He said, he followed what I wrote on the bookmark, to never put all his hopes in one pursuit. That's why he continues to struggle despite the trials and defeats.

Going back to the core of this, meeting him that night was not a coincidence after all. It was supposed to happen in time, that very moment. He became an instrument to remind me of who I was, and how I used to hold on to some philosophies that I should be using for myself these times.

He was a message. God knows what I've been going through. Each day is a chance for me to continue struggling or to give up the person I chose to love. Maybe, God is telling me to remind myself of the apples. Maybe, the message is that I will not spend all my present moments dedicating my thoughts to this one person, whom I don't know if he really cares for me; I don't know if he also thinks of me especially at times when we're not together, not even getting any message from him.

After that brief moment with my long lost batch mate, I figured how many apples I still have. And, I've been thinking to gather more baskets for them.

Writing workshop

At last, I am one of the fellows of the Davao Writers Workshop 2011 come October! It's been last year since I aimed to be part in a writing workshop since my last which was a long time ago, in 2001.

I'm hopeful to meet the other fellows and learn not only from their style of writing but from their own stories about life, love and relationships. It will be my chance to peek into their minds and see how we maybe different or similar in so many ways we could afford to open up during the entire period of workshop.

I only have this dilemma though. It's going to eat up almost my entire working week. I only wish my application for leave will be granted, or else, something has to give.

I realized today that there's so much one can do about his or her life. If only one would seek deep into his or her soul, one can bring out and inflame a desire until it burns into a passion that will eventually define one's personality. No one can stop anyone to express what he or she is supposed to be.

I'm biting a pen while fingers are crossed.

Rewind

If only life is like a movie played in front of us, we could push the rewind button to undo the things we did in the past. But, I'm too big to daydream about that. However we call it, "turn back time", "undo", "rewind", "make up", there's only one thing certain--- we want a chance.

So, this post could also be entitled as "Chance" for I will be talking about asking and getting a chance to make things right, to rewind...

Yesterday, I realized that I haven't written about him. That my blog, nor my notes have not mentioned any of him although he had been the subject of my poetry since then. Maybe, the reason why I changed the layout and design of this blog is because I want to start again. I want to write again not only when I'm depressed or heartbroken, but when I'm happy given this chance to be with him a little bit longer.

Having this chance is not only a chance for me to make it up with him, with all my shortcomings, lack of patience, and limitations such as my ability to understand. This chance is also for myself to create a clear path of who I want to be and what will I become after being honest with what I really want.

I'm glad he started his own blog Omertà , I always wanted him to write. But, honestly, his first post was quite embittering, and I was devastated... Yet, I still wish to read about his thoughts, ideas, opinions that he might not be able to share to me when we get a chance to talk.

Likewise, from now on, I'd like him to make this sanctuary of mine to be his window to my thoughts, as I always wanted him to see me more deeply, more than what his eyes can see...

Nothing to write about me

This morning isn't so great. I read a note from the person I tried to keep as a friend. Yes, only as a friend as he wanted us to be. (Well, I can't push too far from that. He already rejected me to the nth time.) The note says he always wanted to write something about me, and then later realized there was nothing he could write about me after the changes.

That felt like a solid blow in my chest! My eyes labored like stopping a dam to break. But, I was able to manage my sanity by applying what Sabum Nim Jun taught us---control of breathing.

I didn't ask him to write about me anyway; I didn't ask him to be a writer or even try to become one. But, he just did. He had just written a note about me. And, it's amazing how he was able to talk about me and us in a manner that made his writing effective as it piqued me impeccably.

Whatever the reason why I met this person, loved and hated fashionably at the same time, I only wish that we had more time. Like an essay writing exam, we had just started the introductory paragraph when the bell rang. Then, the teacher said, "Pass your paper, finished or not finished."

I'm only keeping my humor to minimize the pain. In the meantime, let me stay in this sanctuary until I recuperate.

Perhaps My Last Poetry

Sometimes, a river is not

enough

to water the seed we planted;

Sometimes, the sun is not

enough

to burn the fire we started;

Sometimes, the mountains are not

enough

to add weight to the "thing" we chose to carry,
which oftentimes we call relationship;

Sometimes, poetry is not

enough

to make a good love story;

Sometimes, I can never be

enough

for the one I chose to

love

and always end up

sorry;

But, I want you to know my

love

that you were always

enough

for me to live each day

happy.

Ocean and the Shore

The ocean ceases to be
what it had been for
the waiting shore---
A light years gap between
her and the hazy terrain
from afar, where
an unlaunched boat lingered,
like her, waiting;
Indifferent to her longing
that one day, its waves
will not just come and go...

The ocean ceases to be
what it had been for the cynical shore;
Now, it cradles the boat
that unleashed itself from
its deep anchor.
And, the waves still
come to the shore,
but, only to bring her
when they go with the boat...
In a journey to the abyss
where everything is unknown
except love.

-- Lorie

Random poetry

These are a few quotes I received recently from a Capricorn friend.


What a chase of spins this thought with two hearts holding hands through us on the moonlit evenings and the mornings when city and sea take shape from dark while the nightingale sings.
11.07.2011 2:18AM

The vain beauty cares most for the conquest which employed the whole artillery of her charms.
10.07.2011 11:06PM

Beautiful may be the lies from the deceiver's lips, but when revelation descends with full force, his grossness is undraped.
06.07.2011 1:42PM

Feeling is deep and still; and the word that floats on the surface is as the tossing buoy that betrays where the anchor is hidden.
03.07.2011 3:43AM

Fallen leaf

I had just been dumped yesterday. I'm still a bit intoxicated not by inebration (or herbal high), but by compunction that has chagrined me since the day my heart was broken. I have been drifting mindlessly with the wind like a weightless leaf fallen from an old tree.

My head is a dam of thoughts waiting to be released freely through the river until they reach the ocean, where I guess my love has drowned me. Sometimes, ocean speaks of death, a silent one.

In the meantime, I'll let Pablo Neruda express my feelings with his poem, 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

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!