Saturday, August 16, 2008


It is quaint how most of us rush into relationships thinking that finding the middle ground would be the answer to all the hurdles that being in one involves. What’s more is the fact that things seem to start out with every vital leeway covered. Inopportunely, we find out later on that the minutiae involved are actually more fuddled than what we led ourselves to think.

I progressively came up with this fugged up supposition that for the most part, relationships and breakups are juggling acts that would never peter out for the reason that:

1. It doesn't come with a self-help kit.
2. It doesn’t come in an elaborate parcel labeled “fool proof”.

Needless to say…affairs and dealings of the heart, split ups, goodbyes and covenants wound around the “I am so over it and I’m moving on” oath; are heavily interposed by denunciations. Each and every installment doesn’t make the next one painless regardless of any causal justification implicated.

What does the next juncture entail then?

1. It is to concede that a chapter in our life is over and done with.
2. It is recognizing that if we choose to soldier on with snippets of the past, we lose the chance of yielding to the other chapters of our lives that we have yet to go through.
3. It is to capitulate to the probability that happiness in spite of everything, will at some point be within our grasp.
4. It is to understand that what’s of consequence is to leave behind in the times of yore the reminiscences in our lives that have finished.

I have come to understand that purging certain memories translates to liberation…to hewing new spaces for unsullied beginnings and new love. Moreover, it is not because of conceit and disdain that we obliterate certain chapters in our lives. We fasten the ingresses of our past and start with clean plates because we need to be the person that we are meant to be.

It took time before I came to terms with the verity that the only way for a broken core to mend is to let things go and to extricate ourselves from what went before. Everything that is perceptible is an illustration of our concealed worlds, our veiled sentiments and of what is unerringly inscribed in our hearts.

A protracted period of time passed before I obtained a brand new appreciation for love and its actualities. It has its time, its own season, its own reason for coming and going. It took a while for me to put the sting of a failed relationship out of my mind enough to be au fait with all these…enough to put pen to paper and consign my thoughts in writing - yet again.

Saturday, August 2, 2008


It’s been a while since I plastered lengthy bits and pieces of my personal views here. I’ve somehow managed to deplete all my creative juices, methinks.

Writing functioned as a personal domicile for disdain and cynicism, apart from being my mind’s eye’s channel of liberation. It houses a facet of me, too sinister to be let out. It fosters the immoderate elevations of my views. It is the brainchild of vital perceptiveness dwelling in lethargic oblivion.

Having explained all those…let me move ahead and ensue the hub of today’s blog entry.

ENTER: Holier-Than Thou…The Attack of the Sardonic Con Artists

SUBTITLE: The Metaphorical Carnage of the Empty Recesses of a Bu-Foo’s Brain

People would capitulate to a lot of pandemonium, me included, all for the love of another person. If that is not a visual obscurity, I’m open for clarifications.

In the same breath, liars, detractors, hecklers, disbelievers, critics and your friendly neighborhood “MR./MS. WE-ARE-HOLIER-THAN-THOU”…lurks in dark corners ostensibly waiting for the perfect opening to do the following:

a. Point out as many arguments as they can conjure, why the new female is a good-for-nothing-concubine-wanna-be.

b. Assure the old flame that “the new female and the ex-boyfriend” deserve one another.

c. Create a “Revulsion Assemblage” composed of people who would shit-stir and talk in bu-foo lingo along with them.

d. As in the case of any healthy organization (note: written with severe sarcasm), the founders of said Assemblage comes up with activities that would stimulate the creativity of its new members.

Great examples would be: “Bash the Ex-Boyfriend Poster Making Frenzy”, creating extemporaneous speeches on “ The Many Reasons Why We Are Morally Upright Cyber Citizens”, writing essays on “The Bu-Foo’s Ultimate Guide on How To Be A Bogus Buddy – Exuding Phony Yet Plausible Concern!” and exchanging personal POV’s based on it.

I have loved someone but had to let go, because he was with someone else. I stepped back in deference to that actuality. Now I have become the object of everyone’s harsh verdicts. I love someone I had no right to love....according to many.

Now where does remote accuracy reside in this picture? I can’t help but wonder.

Friday, August 1, 2008


Death always entails grief; the mother of emptiness - of void that is all too encompassing. Overwhelming.

My grandmother passed away a few months ago and my family and I were faced with a huge turning point in our lives. I played against the fact that no matter how emotionally primed I thought I was back then...that final valediction was arduous.

I wasn't ready to say goodbye.

There were many should have's, what if's and could have's that ran in circles through my mind. I guess in laymen's term, it's called guilt. Guilt over the fact that I never got to spend as much time with her as I would have wanted to. Guilt over the fact that I got so caught up with my own life...and forgot that I once was and will always be a granddaughter.

Her granddaughter.

As much as I would have wanted to spend more time with her, my wishes will remain bleak undertones from the past. My grief, a cold hand clutching my heart.

Looking back and taking a glimpse at what the future has in store for me, I realized that she left me with the gift of the person that I became. I choose to see myself now, as an extension of her and if there was one thing I learned through this's to never let a day go by without showing the people that matter to me how much I value them.