The Happy Loner

Blockmate 1: Hello Herald!


Blockmate 2: Hello Herald!? (As if talking to a deaf)


Herald: (With a nervous, shaky tone) Oh, hi there!


[And the conversation stops there]

***

[The bell rings for a two-hour break]


Blockmate 1: Where are we gonna stay now?


Blockmate 2: Let’s go to the canteen! I’m hungry.


Blockmate 1: Eh, how about you Herald? Would you like to join us?


Herald: (so glad that he was actually asked) Uhm, well, uhm---- (B2 suddenly interrupts)


Blockmate 2: Nah! I’m pretty sure he’ll be off to the library AGAIN. Study habits, as they say.


Herald, talking to himself: W-H-A-T?? LIBRARY??!! Are you serious? That place is only for the LOSERS who got no friends! A refuge for the LONERS!


[But Herald silently still proceeds to the library,with his stomach growling loudly]

***

I am the kind of person who is very used to being alone. Surprisingly, it neither makes me happy nor sad.

In high school, although I had my circle of friends, I still felt that I only existed behind their shadows. But I really didn’t mind. Aside from the friendship we were building, the security that stems from it was what I needed. Like any other growing teen in high school, I also dreamt ‘to belong.’ I sought for that sense of belongingness. And in high school where the world seems to be literally small, it didn’t take me long to find it.

But high school was entirely different. I’m now in college where things are tougher and people fiercer. There may be thousands of students from all walks of life here, but the sense of belongingness that I am searching for remains elusive. Friends in college are indeed scarce. Or should I say, friends here in college are unfortunately scarce... TO THE ONE WRITING THIS ARTICLE.

But hey, it doesn’t mean that I don’t have friends at all. I still have. And although they may not be as many as the fingers in your one hand, I think it’s already better than having none at all.

Okay, so I’m still sort of a loser loner. But I’m not the typical nerd-looking loner whose vacant hours are spent in the library (although I’m already getting accustomed to spending most of my time studying). I don’t know why but I’m just happy being alone. It’s like I get to observe the world around me without actually involving myself with them. It’s like I’m just in the level of a spectator who doesn’t care much about what people would say to me. It’s like they anticipate for the every word that my mouth would utter. It’s like I’m creating my own world out of my unbreakable silence. It’s amazing! It’s like I’m baffling people with my aura of mystery. For them, I am puzzling and mysterious. And it just always thrills me whenever I see them trying so hard to figure me out with my imperviousness. And I must say I’m loving it! It’s very different from my world in high school – busy, tiring, noisy, no peace, almost without privacy. Cool! Loner? Definitely! Playing safe? Probably. Crazy? You judge.

But wait. I’m not here to encourage you to detach yourselves from social ties. I, too, am still learning to establish bonds and to socialize with others. I know that living one’s self alone is unhealthy, and it may not do him good in the long run. So instead of distancing myself from people, I know that I should start opening up myself to them. I also know that I must squash the feeling of ‘intimidation’ if I want to gain friends. This has always been the problem with me: I easily get intimidated with the people here in college. (But hey, why would I? Perhaps I just need to have a boost of self-confidence! Go Herald!)

You may think now that I’m insanely faced with a dilemma. But I tell you, I am not torn between being a loner and being a social individual. This isn’t a struggle for me. THIS IS SKILL! (Oh yeah? Lol) Without any intent to brag, I know well how to handle myself. I am a loner and can be silent at times, but I can also be the opposite when I want to. I just happen to discover the ‘peace’ of being a loner and the solitude it offers, and then learned to love it. This is indeed a skill! (Whatever!)

So what if I’m a loner? It doesn't add any bout of misery in my life anyway. At least I could get the chance to view the world from a different perspective. At least I’m honing my intrapersonal skill (is there such a skill?). But more than anything else, at least I could prove to everyone that the *oxymoron ‘HAPPY LONER’ does exist!

You have to believe me. I'm a living testament to that.

***

Instructor: Okay, class. We will have a game and I want you to group yourselves into five.


Herald: Uh-oh!


[Students begin to form groups]


Blockmate 1 (leader of one group consisting blockmates 2, 3, 4 & 5): is it okay if we're six in the group sir?


Herald (to blockmate 1): No, don't bother. I'm fine. Really.


Instructor: Oh I forgot to tell you. The mechanics of the game is for everyone to find a group. He who has no group loses the game. In other words, the LONERS are the LOSERS!


...are the LOSERS! the LOSERS! LOSERS! (echoing into Herald's mind...then fading)


Herald: WOW SIR! THAT HURTS!

***

-end






NOTE: the article above is written quite exaggeratedly :D :D :D
*oxymoron- A figure of speech in which incongruous or contradictory terms appear side by side (examples: open secret, living dead, burning cold, dark light)

WE WERE FLOODED, literally!

Today, November 7, 2010, was a day when the heaven cried a river of tears. I’m not exaggerating. It actually did. Not that a celebrity superstar or a relative of mine died today. It was just that, uhm, we were FLOODED, literally!

At first, the rain seemed to be just a normal heavy rain. Heavy rains in our place don’t usually cause floods. The rains may pour humongous volume of water but the floods they normally create are only small floods enough for the canals to hold.

But today, Sunday, was a different story.

The rain this afternoon wasn’t the first time we experienced a notably heavy rain. However, scary as this may sound, it was our first time to see the floodwater creep in inside our house. Yeah, you read that right! The flood has actually reached the ground floor (murag pila ka storey among balay!haha!) of our house despite its elevation from the ground.

When the floodwater started to flow in inside our house, we immediately carried the must-not-get-wet things from the floor and placed them on the tables and chairs. Fortunately, the waters did not reach the bedrooms and the kitchen. Only our living room was hit by the catastrophe (OA!).

Meanwhile, outside our house was a ‘sea’ of brown, murky water. Almost everything was covered with the out-of-nowhere gush of floodwater, reminding me of some scenes I usually see on TV everytime a typhoon strikes Luzon, submerging the island in flood. And in that very moment, I could hardly distinguish imagination from reality.

Drama aside, I was also able to take pictures of the flood that struck our house, the casualties it left us with, as well as the horrid aftermath of the tragedy.

Sa kasagsagan ng pagbaha

Ang kalunos-lunos na aftermath


-Aba! Ngisi2x pa jud!! wuhaha!

-Mud and stones piled up in our yards

-Asa na ang pares aning slipper nga isa? LOL!

:)

Finding peace behind the clouds

Incessant bombings and killings. Burgeoning corruption and poverty. Chaos--unending chaos.

I turned off the TV. It totally bored me to see all those recurring news regarding our country. Humanity being torn between good and evil, with evil almost embracing victory.

Everything’s just way too disheartening. Way too confusing.

Tired of watching such dismal scenario, I went outside our house. I gazed at the boundless blanket of blue sky above me, tried my luck to seek anything that is possibly there... and prayed. But what could this be that I’m trying to seek? This that I’m deeply longing and praying for?

The fathomless dome above me seemed to be nothing more than a virtual empty space. Yet despite the void that it is, is the presence of a feeling of calmness... a peculiar tranquility giving off an aura of security... but what is this feeling?

I could hardly distinguish this relaxing mood enveloping my very being. What could this be? What could this be that seemed to brush off every dust of weariness that I feel? What could this be that completely silenced all the wailing and the whining inside of me? What could this be that rejuvenated my soul so gloriously?

My consciousness, with all its might, tried to conjure up a reasonable explanation for what it was.
Then my mind fell into one judgment: Peace.

Yes! It should be peace that I was feeling right then. Yes, PEACE--this elusive remedy I was long been searching for, which from out of the blue I suddenly discovered in the midst of my soul-searching. This peace which arrived with an entourage of angels. This that would finally bring solace and relief to my disheartened feeling and enlighten the confusion within.

Oh PEACE! I love this feeling! But if it does exist, why do most people still choose bombings and killings over amicable measures of achieving their goals? Why do politicians still believe that corruption is an effective resort to cultivate and amass wealth? Why do masses of people still have to wallow in poverty’s lair?

Why don’t people just simply dig up the happiness from the simple things? Why choose to listen to an ugly orchestra of divisions, hatred and selfishness when we have the option to sing gleefully in the symphony of brotherhood? Why don’t people just stare at the sky and read behind the clouds the invisible signboard which reads “PEACE” hidden in its vast nothingness?

After mulling this over, I found myself hoping: hoping that people may learn to discover PEACE in their hearts; hoping that people may see the million little things around them worth grinning at; hoping that people would find time to look up at the sky and learn to seek PEACE in their solitude; and finally, hoping that people may learn to kneel in worship and extend both their joy and misery to the one true King of Peace, the Almighty!


Ad majorem dei gloriam!

Dora the explorer meets Herald the grown-up whiner

Can we truly consider DORA as an explorer? Fearless and fierce? I mean, if she’s really an explorer, then I’m sure she’s the lamest in the roster.

Okay, I know I’m just being too hypocritical and a whiner here, but probably brought about by the deficiency of topics to write about, poor Dora has now just become my victim to be subjected into my unnecessary scrutiny.

This morning I happened to watch a complete episode of DORA The Explorer (Tagalog version) aired on ABS-CBN simply because I have no other resort to placate my boredom.

Annoyed with its infantile script (all in poor Tagalog translations) and almost nonsensical storyline, I suddenly muttered to myself:

“Oh, Dora! When will you ever grow up and learn to decide for yourself? You’re supposed to be a valiant, fearless ‘explorer’ bound to overcome all odds with your instincts and sense of independence, not a little princess who is still baby-sat at age what, 8 or 9, and who is accompanied by an equally stupid monkey!”

Yeah. I know it’s only an animated show for kids. So why am I so affected with its stupidity? That I am not sure of!

* thinking *

Well, how about this? Maybe... maybe it’s just that I’ve grown more MATURE (oh really?). Precisely! That explains it! That explains why I can’t stoop to Dora’s level without being uncomfortable. It's like this. An adult, or let's say someone who has a more matured thinking, should get irked with childish things. Little girl crying over her broken doll. Little boy endlessly bugging his mother to buy him a new toy. Quite irksome!

And since I've grown more mature now, it goes without saying that I, too, should also be irritated with her-- with her stupidity I couldn't comprehend and with her big head!

That’s it! Dora’s just a kid who still needs to perch herself in a safe environment to gain security and comfort. Dora is just a child whose hands are still tightly clutched on the railings in order not to fall. Dora is an explorer in her own little world of fantasies. She needs Boots and the audience to decide for her.

But I ain’t like Dora. I just happen to live in the REALITY. A reality which can be fierce and unforgiving at times. A real world with real characters and real experiences. A reality which has now made me more mature and grown-up in the way I view life. In my world, I’ve learned--and still am learning--to be wise with and responsible for my decisions... decisions and their consequences that no one but myself could be held accountable for.

***

Geez! I owe you one Dora for unexpectedly giving me a whole new spectrum of understanding about reality and maturity. :p

An inspired writer wanna-be

After reading some really beautifully-crafted articles written by some of my seniors in the university, I suddenly had this I-also-want-to-be-like-them feeling, and was obviously inspired because of their works. And with a profound admiration for their passion in writing, I then just found myself secretly setting a goal to which my “amateur writer’s life” will surely be tied up with.

***

I want to be a writer, not just someone who knows the proverbial subject-verb agreement and conforms to the complex set of grammatical rules.

I want to be a good writer. Someone who can put into a beautiful tapestry of writing my feelings and my thoughts. Someone who can make his hand and his pen smoothly work together like that of the formless water flowing so exquisitely in whatever kind of surface it may stumble across. Be it rough and rocky or level and smooth, it still can stream freely.

Yes, I want to be good in writing. To be good in letting my mind freely embody its repertoire of ideas into words. To be good at breathing life to a jumble of flowery words. To be good at aggregating my scattered and wandering thoughts. Yes, to be good at expressing myself.

***

I was just inspired. Sometimes, a little dose of inspiration is just what it takes to get me steaming with enthusiasm and drive me overly melodramatic about the trivial things. But hey, lemme make this clear, writing isn't a trivial thing for me anymore. Matter of fact, I just made a sort of an official statement, haven't I? :p