7 of 366

What is it with 7 and luck?

 

I’d rather be grateful than lucky.

Yes, I talk to the universe and all, especially when an awful fist of luck knocks me out like a domino falling, hitting me hard one blow after the other…or when nothing seems to be going my way no matter which way I go…or even when everything is dead blank and pitch dark yet and still the stars are too flicker on me…mostly, during the times I have to have something to blame and I could no longer force the blame on myself or to anyone. Yes, I do talk to the universe when I feel that I am the unluckiest earthling alive. It would seem like I am believer of luck. I may seem to be. But luck has never been kind to me. I even doubt if it ever exists.

Maybe when the universe is being less of a bitch and is starting to force a ray of good luck upon me, I am really not lucky at all.

Luck is too random to believe in and the universe is too bitchy to be nice to a random and insignificant earthling like me. But there is a stronger force, greater force behind the universe that makes me feel grateful instead. I am ever grateful, oh yes, I am, that as days fall off, I may falter but I don’t end with them.

Today marks the 7th day of my new year. With or without luck, I am grateful. With or without stars, I am grateful. I am grateful because I am alive to count up to this day that is about to end.

Tomorrow is another shot at winning fist fights with the universe.

Bring it on.

Signs of Aging

What was it really like when I was growing up? Or did I ever grow up?

The music I listen to, the series I follow, the movies I watch, the books I read, the artists I stalk, the pages I browse, the places I admire, even the food I eat, might send a signal that I don’t really act my age.

I admit I don’t.

I am stuck somewhere in the dead of years that I suppose I haven’t gotten the most of the bliss of satisfaction. Or maybe my myriad of interests is not something that gets into satisfaction at all. How can one ever grow tired of sweet escape? Or life might just be another routine you put up with. I can’t handle that.

And so I cuddle into the same excitement of that of a five year old, the same thrill of that of a fourteen year old, the same high of that of a twenty one year old, whenever I claim the time I set aside for myself to time travel to anywhere but the decade and one reality aging has forced me into becoming, that I may be able to feel the age that I exactly want to feel.

Getting lost in another age stuck inside me somewhere has become an antidote to the decaying adult I become each day. I have nothing against growing all mature and old and wise, but being detached to the things that once had made you more alive and interesting and driven and wild and bold and exciting and happy and risky and free? I think that is suicide. Yes, I might as well hang myself to next string of sanity that is left in this very demanding world.

Others say it is a sign of dissatisfaction. I guess it is. But it is not the dissatisfaction that comes with the negative feeling of being unhappy with could-have-beens and would-have-beens. It is the kind of dissatisfaction of being extremely happy that you are not even second guessing that there would be more to the bliss than what you have had before. That kind of dissatisfaction. Because it is the ‘more’ that fuels you to hold on and move on at the same.

The truth is, we can never be the age we want to be. We can either let the years rotten us with all the bitterness we have against time we can not win over, or let the years rotten us with all the pleasure we can get with time, taking decay as a way of shedding off the bitterness.

We can only allow ourselves to feel how it’s like the age we want to feel if we choose to. And I am glad with the choices I make.

So let me be.

Midday Dreams

Am I the only one wishing I could sleep and wake up with an opportunity to live life again, skipping the shitty parts, and even the great ones that eventually lead to shitty parts still?

I feel like this when it is cold and it is too hot to go outside either that I’d rather put up with the cold, but the roars of laughter I should be sharing with the ones doing them annoy me that I wish I were not here the first place.

The thing is, it is almost 3 pm, maybe I just need coffee.

A Fool’s Silver Screen

“You are everything I never knew I always wanted.”

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I have to be at a similar spot at the Grand Canyon, devouring a picnic box of Gray’s Papaya. Well gastronomic-delight aside, I think I need to be reminded each time that “love is a gift…not an obligation,” as this 1997  movie has taught me, and I guess it would be such a rush to be frozen at this particular scene of “Fools Rush In” where the idea of love-as I have first known it to be, as I have grown knowing, and as I should forever remember-first introduced itself to me. A day in this favorite movie of mine will be spent at the Grand Canyon, with the one I love, taking pleasure at the sunset and the love we have, but of course, with a box of Gray’s Papaya. That is all that’s going to happen in a day. That is all I ever wanted.

(However, if I have two more days, I want to pass by Coyote Ugly and Burlesque. A shot of margarita or a bottle of beer while watching hot girls strut their butts and do breath-taking dance routines would be such a release from a day’s work, but too unfortunate we don’t have much of these shows in the city where I live. I would do anything in this world to see a live show of this sort. But I still have another day!— which I want to spend taking a bullet for Jenko in any Jump Street movie. And since I happen to save his life, then maybe…details of my fantasies end here, before I say something cool. 😛 )

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/fourth-wall/

Living for the Day

Life is like the end of a day.

Life is a red blot on the computer screen about to go off…

Life is a familiar cushion consuming your weight into its center so soft…

Life is the country rhythm of your favorite rock band taking you away…

Face life even if doesn’t seem to want to face you.

Embrace life knowing it will end eventually even if it has to torment you.

Live life for even a thousand years can only happen and end in a day.

For life, in truth, is but a day in your life.

This is the poetry prompt I gave to my students as periodic examination after a unit on poetry. Sometimes, I make it a point to do prompts my way, especially when it is in poetry that people are at the peak of realizations of what life truly means. Then I am surprised of myself each time…

As Miss Joy, my colleague, had written at the end of the examination paper: “Only the very weak-minded refuse to be influenced by literature and poetry.” -Cassandra Clare

True. Indeed.

Interactions 101

Grade 7 Science has opened my eyes to many things I have taken for granted about relationships. I never had this kind of connection with Science until I attended a class as part of my functions as supervisor of teacher performance.

Miss Lyn opened the lesson on “Interactions in the Ecosystem” with the question: what do you do in order to interact with the other members of the class? what do animals do if in their own environment? Answers ranged from talking, listening to protecting and killing. Then, the parade of concepts about how organisms interact in the ecosystem proceeded. From the the leading questions, to the concept-forming questions and the synthesizing and valuing questions, I gathered my own thoughts about a few of these interactions:

Mutualism, the art of “give and take”

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Being with someone-sharing innermost thoughts and feelings, contributing to the the other’s emotional and spiritual growth, nurturing passions and whims- is not a one-way street. However, living and keeping up with giving when taking is bliss, sometimes clouds the connection. When a person graces you with attention, concern and care, sometimes you feel overwhelmed that you forget that you have the obligation to make the other person feel the same, not exactly the same way but in the way you know how. Sharing mutual feelings allows us to be inventive and imaginative as to how we can reciprocate joy whenever we get the feeling from someone’s efforts to amuse us. Mutual understanding also breeds respect and trains us to be sensitive, in a way that we avoid words and actions that we know shall cause us pain and dissatisfaction if we were given the same treatment. Mutual understanding values connection even without words spoken, making love more heartfelt because you may be able to make someone feel precious even if you don’t need to say anything or more.

Parasitism, putting up with the users

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What kind of relationship makes a parasite out of us? It might be the relationship when you make someone believe you care but that is only because you derive benefits from the relationship. Casual favors are tolerable, but making another person sacrifice his or her own happiness just so you can enjoy your capriciousness is a painful thing for the host, and a shame for the parasite. The sad reality is, we tolerate parasites. Our home crumbles, our skin itches, our society is infested, because we do not do anything about the parasites. We are too kind to parasites and look past their schemes. Hosts should never be applauded for their martyrdom, knowing they are being used, complain but give in to the users. Is this even something we can call relationship if we love parasites so much we can’t let them go? Hosts, unlike preys, actually have a choice not be aggravated but they choose to be undermined. Their idea of a relationship is controlled by their over eagerness to be selfless even if this would mean stripping them of their dignity and freedom. Could we blame them?

Predation, antagonism at its finest

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It seems that when we care for someone, when we are in a relationship that secures us with the satisfaction of belonging, predators are not a thing to be scared of. How many of us have been victims of this kind of interaction-hunted, eyed on, grasped and struggles to be consumed?  We know that sometimes making a commitment entails risk and dangers, especially when our oblivious heart yearns nothing but to be cuddled and cared for, but we continue to make ourselves open to be preyed on. Then, when others hurt us, we can’t do anything else but bleed. Do we curse the predators for being mean? Well if we force ourselves to be in a relationship that has taken parasitism for granted and evolved into an interaction that has made the parasite a heartless predator hurting the host that has turned into a weak prey, then maybe we should rethink how we see relationships. Pain is inevitable, but allowing yourself to be devoured is a different story. Nobody has the right to hurt you if you don’t give them the power to. But sometimes we choose to be hurt. Endless why’s flood our senses, but we refuse to give them answers.

So what kind of relationship do we have? Are we enjoying cloud 9 with mutualism? Are we enduring the sense of sacrifice that comes with parasitism? Are we resistant to pain caused by predation? Or maybe it is mutualism reduced to parasitism and evolving to predation?

Everything I need to learn about relationships I learned in Science for the 7th grade.