The Unseen Truism

It was like soul-surfing across a torrent and surging stream of rapture. It was like mind-drifting through the serene forest of intrepid serendipity. It was like heart-soaring into the vast open air of gratitude...and it was like judicious-rifting within the cauldron of bequeathing blessedness.

In the year where wavering permanence and erratic solidity have been constant eventualities so far, yesterday was the first day of the year to be remembered for me. It was euphorically unnerving to say the least and in simple words...I was happy.

As I mature over the years from my humble creation, the iridescent gemstones of promising amity grow ever more profuse inside my propitious pouch of cherished chums. These adventurously wild and mildly cultured people of my life will forever be kept close to my heart, their good deeds perpetually committed.

I was delighted to receive so many well-wishes and wondrous feelings from adored and beloved friends through all means of contact, across lands encompassing this world, through various moments of the day. It made me feel remembered and cared for, it made me feel treasured and cherished...and it made me feel important.

The Rays of perpetual brilliance once again flickered fleetingly in my life. In its wake, it left me with imprints of an alternative opportunity in life. The small but intensely bright spring of luminosity engulfed me in its brief pithy of fiery inferno only to be smoldered rapidly into a dead ball of earth. The restoration of the Ruins to its former glory is a question of choice, not circumstantial.

Then there was a brief respite of sailing across the reprieving sanctuary at the Sea of infinite reaches of likelihood. But things have changed now and with the new found serenity in this vastness of open waters, the quietude is soothing. The charts have been interpreted and the course plotted. The navigation of affable affinity is inevitable.

Standing resolute at the point where I left off, I still face the coming tides of impediment. Picking up the columns of dedication from the aftermath of the previous onslaught has helped me to better lead the procession from my Cavalcade. For in the lead caravan I found my last vestige of Conscience that is leading me back to idyllic reality. The pilgrimage persists on.

But of late, the Night of endless reveries have been filled with inconclusive endings. The constant haggle of honest proposals have garnered me valuable insights of questionable and moot Nuances. When these have been deciphered, I hope to conclude the omnipresent vacillating sentiments of understanding. It is during the Night that I am at my best, existing in its reflection of idealistic aptness. It is like art imitating life.

After an eternity in exultant jubilation, I thank God for the life that has been bestowed upon me yesterday from all these adages. Along this road I am walking now, I have begun to connect the dots as I look back and am always aware of where I am going forward...anticipating the path to tread next so that after living through it, I can filch another look back again to see how they all connect.

From my encounters yesterday through these gemstones I keep in my propitious pouch, I realized how forthcoming and effortless the waves of contentment can descend on me. It is then that it dawned upon me I must have been doing something right, and life is full of pleasant surprises.

I saw that the best things in life are unseen. That is why we close our eyes when we kiss, cry or dream.

Everyday Immortality (3)

Atoms are composed of subatomic particles moving at lightning speeds through huge empty spaces.


I have been mulling over this statement for days now, ever since I first read it a little more than 3 days ago. The true meaning of these words somehow still evades me. I have yet to lurch onto that elusive state of epiphany when one finally discerns the truth from the ethereal mendacities and sieve the facts from the interminable verity.

Be that as it may, the notion of this narrative anecdote has its own share of shrewd contrive and incisive intrigue.

In my case, I am talking about people. The ones that are always there, the ones that are sometimes around, the ones that are sporadically appearing and disappearing in your life and the ones that you only come across once in your life by some upshot of providential fate.

Whatever the case, these casts of your own life where you are the main character, are the ones who will ultimately sing the songs of your existence's vivid chronicles. They are one of the foremost factors in life - defining who you really are.

It almost seemed as if it was like inserting the pertinent dowel of verve into the axle of triumphant brooding, and then steering the wheel cart of apposite fulfillment along the boulevard of renewed restitute.

The subsistence of this is that whoever we meet or keep along the way, we have to be wary. More often than not, every one has their own clandestine memo. It is up to us how we choose to filter the words uttered and exchanged that will consequently envelop us in the protective shield of probity.

I had to learn it the inconvenient and discomfited way. It is the nature of our environment that accelerates the prospect of social networking, camaraderie and mutual amity, that sometimes we forget to listen to our heart and be brave enough to walk away from pretentious and conceited individuals.

The epiphany engulfed me at last...the subatomic particles personify the individuals whom we come into contact with in our lives. They are all then typified by the atoms when they become an assemblage. Finally, the movement at lightning speeds epitomize the condition in which friendships are made, no matter how superficial or meaningful it is, in an environment of fervent fraudulence that can only be embodied by the huge empty space within us all...

Larger Than Faith

In our daily reveries and nightly dreams we all aspire to great things. Yet most of us simply aren't creating the results we want. We always yearn for a little bit more of riches, triumph, anecdote and fable. Simply put, we do not have enough money, romance, success or joy in our lives. Why not? What is holding us back?

The common person could probably list at least three good reasons to attest why he or she cannot do whatever it is he or she really wants. But in the deepest recesses of our hearts, don't we really know that we could do it all, if only we were to heed the challange of timorous and immolate ourselves in the holy fire of provocative penitence? If only we dared?

Is it possible that the only main thing holding us back is fear? The answer is yes. It is fear that foils and thwarts us, stalemates us with an impasse, erodes away our self-worth and places imaginary cordon in our path. Fear keeps us from taking action, and if we do not act, we will never get beyond where we are now.

But our fears disappear when we confront them, evaporating away into oblivion by the warmth of virtuous rectitude. And once we take charge of ourselves by donning the armour of valour, we can have, do and be anything and everything we have ever dreamed of.

You block your dream when you allow your fear to grow bigger than your faith.

Of Fear and Shadow

"this is great...he is really making a difference..."

It was like a sudden hail of awareness. Many times in the past months I constantly found myself in the darkness. In those lonely moments, I recall the time when I first set my eyes on the mountain ahead, standing atop a plateau overlooking the valley below wherein it lies. I convinced myself of the mammoth but promising journey ahead and took my first step without looking back.

"...with him onboard, the right questions are asked..."

As I scaled down the cliff of the plateau, I could not help but stare down at the precipice below. It was when I realized that I've always had this small fear of height. Despite the vertigo, I descended on the thin line that was holding my weight and my ambition.

"...he is always seeking to get things done fast..."

As I hit the ground, I felt the sense of familiarity coming back to my feet. I moved forward ever closer to the mountain and prepared myself for the inevitable and perfidious climb. But as I near the foot of the mountain, a distant darkness etched onto the very fabric of the mountain itself loomed clearer. The tiny speck of darkness gradually grew into the opening of a tunnel. I found my deliverance at last. Or so I thought.

"...appreciate all the work he has been doing in the last couple of months..."

I stood at the mouth of the tunnel. In my mind, I was trying to discern if it was a cave instead. My mind did not matter then and as I gauged the depth and height of the unnatural warren, a speck of distant white light captured my attention. I saw the end of the tunnel. With my mind over the matter now, I journeyed into the maw of uncertainty and braved the treacherous dark path ahead.

"...I know it can be frustrating..."

Those times were long gone now. They are behind me and I have moved on, resolute and unswerving...only to find myself lost in the darkness now. With the beacon of light long gone when my intransigence took the better part of me, I ploughed forward aimlessly like a brave fool. I no longer know if I'm still in the same tunnel or in an immense void that has no bounds.

"...but hang in there..."

I felt a cold breeze. Soft but sure. Then came the hail of wind, the hail of awareness. I realized that to overcome the challenge of the mountain, the right way is not up and above it but down and below it. I smelled the fresh water in the darkness ahead and the trickling of water on stones. In an instant I could hear the distant rush of current nearby and found my liberation, the river of emancipation. I jumped right in and let the current write my fate.

"...we will resolve a lot of the problems he has..."

I emerged at the other side of the mountain at the top of a steep waterfall and plunged into the depths below. As the surface of the water neared, I found myself turning around one last time and looked at the majestic beauty of the mountain. Regal and stately in its own right. I smiled one last time and gave a silent prayer to its magnificence before submerging into the lake below.

"...don't work too late"

As I swam to the nearby shore, a sense of comprehension washed over me like holy water. I realize that I must have trusted in something. And that trust translated itself into unwavering faith for me. And that was it!

Never fear the shadows. They represent the light that is shining somewhere nearby.

Scapa Diabolice Evolutia

The dragonfly’s name comes from an ancient Romanian folktale. The Devil turned a beautiful horse ridden by St. George into a giant, flying insect called the “Devil’s Horse”. Peasants viewed the Devil’s Horse as a giant fly and started referring to it as the “Devil’s Fly”. The Romanian word for devil was “drac”, which was also the word for dragon. Devil’s Fly was erroneously translated to the English Dragon Fly which evolved into “Dragonfly”.

Everyday Immortality (2)

All material things are made up of atoms.


It is true that from a scientific and logical point of view, all materials in this universe are made up of atoms. Each particle of iota merging together into substances of molecules that are part of a larger constituent of matter that fuses with other particles from the surrounding elements.

To me, it simply means that whatever endeavours we go thru in life, any experiences we encounter while growing, or simply a problem that we have to unravel are all made up of dimunitive components of circumstances.

Nothing we face in our everyday life is impossible to weather past. Every problem has many causes and not just one cause. We must learn to see a situation or a problem or an experience as a constituent of many atoms. There are reasons for all of these. It is simply cause...and effect.

When we can see a problem for what it really is, we have to then take things one at a time, every moment of every day. It is from this realization that we decide how best to proceed next.

We often comfort ourselves with the fact that sometimes we have to learn things the hard way in order to grow, to become stronger and be the wiser. I say we all have choices and when we concede that we have to learn it this way or that way, we are surrendering to the fact that we are forced to do so. In truth, we are the determinants of the difficulty level in how we learn things. How easy or hard it is, is really up to us ultimately.

So if these are the make-up to all material things, what then of immaterial things?

Immaterial things are irrelevant.
They are unimportant and of no consequence.
They are beside the point, neither here nor there.
It makes no difference and it doesn't matter.

But immaterial in life is who we are.
It is ethereal, it is elusive.
Its vagueness are subtle.
It is all intangible but it is our mark.

All immaterial things are made up of a life's hopes and dreams and energy.

Under St. 00d

I only recently realize how abstract most of my entries have become. It was never my intention to perplex anyone. Though I must admit that bamboozling a few people around does give me some kick. Jokes aside.

Several people approached me and queried as to why I couldn't be more direct in what I wanted to say? My standard reply would be because I have to be sensitive to others. The stuff that I write about concerns real people in real life who may very well stumble upon this "secret plateau".

"Then why do you write if you're afraid others might find out the real meaning of your writings", they usually ask after that. My customary response would be because I need to let it out of me as I hate keeping things inside me. I love writing too and it is a form of relaxation for me, to reflect on things in life, to mirror it, to look at it from various perspectives and when that isn't enough, I reflect further.

Just when I thought I've satiated their curiosity, they'd go and ask me "In that case, why don't you just write privately or have some personal diary? That way you can write all you want without censorship and still feel satisfied from the fulfillment of writing?". My next routine retort would be because somehow I feel the need to share, so that people will challenge my thinking, my limits and my perspectives. I like to be pushed as it makes me feel alive. It is very interesting to me when someone comes and offers a totally different set of opinions and experiences from the same exact sentences that I derived my experiences from.

"Then why do you want to write in such confusing manner that is so hard to understand what you're talking about more than half the time?". This is where plates and saucers, steel knifes and forks started flying around. Right. Please read the following paragraph for my regular answer:

It is because I write for myself ultimately. Shit happens to everybody everyday. Happiness falls upon unsuspecting individuals as often as the rain would fall from the sky. It is how I pen these life experiences down into words that will give me a perspective on what, how and why these life incidents happened to me. It is for me to one day, and regularly, read back on these entries to remind myself of what happened and how I saw it at that point of time. And if I still am of the same opinion, it means I haven't change, it means the situation hasn't change, it means nothing can be changed or it means the change has yet to come.

If I were too obvious in what I wrote, pinpointing down to the details of the names and the places and the events, I would lose one very important thing. That would be the lesson learned from these incidents. Over time, the nature of the events that took place, or the details of it would matter very little. It is the essence of what happened, and how I pen it down in the language that people call it Confusing, that will remind me of what I lost or gained, given or received, loved or hated, triumphed or failed and learned or passed on.

Come to think of it I don't write to be understood, I write so I won't be misunderstood.

Wasted Faith

I am just so very disappointed with someone right now. The feeling is immense and overwhelming. But I learned my folly and will tread wisely from here on. Maybe I assumed wrongly, but after all that is said and done, I know I am at least half-correct and that in itself, is statement enough of my stupidity and oversight, justification enough for my feelings.

To wish you were someone else is to waste the person that you are.

Everyday Immortality (1)

The material universe and the physical body that I experience through my senses are only one aspect of reality.


I think this statement is factual. Just like how the different facets of a diamond give off different coloured perspectives when viewed from different angles, so does all the different facades of veracity will give the beholder varying perceptions on his experiences.

To me, experiencing reality is not only about the corporeal aspect of it, it is also very much to do with the spiritual and intellectual part of it.

Not so long ago, I concluded that an aspect of reality very much related to the spiritual facet is only an illusion caused by the temporary absence of reality. A friend debated this with me on the contrary and I held my ground. Seeing this now, I think I was wrong as when reality is absent in your experiences, there is no way you can live through all the aspects of it, be it an illusion or otherwise.

They are all spokes on the same wheel.