Wednesday, December 9, 2009

sense and creativity

The question of sense haunts our being. We would like to know why we do things, why we feel the way we do. It is not much the how but the why that defines who we are. The how of our existence may give it finesse and beauty, but the truth that brings us to light and fulfillment resides in the why of our existence.

This is a question that is so often ignored, or we pretend to ignore. Yet it nags us from that subconsciousness where things hold us without us knowing how.

Whenever I think about this, my mind always drifts to the question: "Who am I?"

The structures of our society is so made in such a way that the individual follows a certain pattern of existence like a robot. There are a series of rules or conventions that seem to dictate what we are, what we should do, the way we should do it. The person who resides beneath the veil who display to the world is kind of stiffened, hushed as it were, by the glamor of what we are made to let out.

We are controlled in myriads of ways. We are slaves to things we hold, things we do, persons we esteem. And how often do we strive to convince people that we are what they really think we are? We cease being what we really are or what we were meant to be because society tells us that we are something different. And we live with an inner conflict, trying to accept (-or sadly ignore) who we are while maintaining the struggle to fit, to survive in a world that does not understand that we come from within our own worlds, our inner worlds that may be even broader, richer and more profound with seething truths than the universe we are thrust into.

I have always envisioned a philosophy of life where freedom rules over all else. Freedom understood in the strict sense of interior liberty: i e, the ability to think one's thoughts, to hold one's dreams, to come to decisions that strike chords of a silent and free revolution -like the wind - through one's life. That explains why we do things, not just for the sheer pleasure of the world, but because we heed a call deep within that move us towards the said things. I do not write merely to please anyone, but because the itch of the ink flows irrevocably through my veins. Nothing can stop it.

I write because writing makes me feel more myself. In writing I understand something of who I am. In writing I enter deeper into my world... I feel it... I touch it... I swim in its pure waters. The rest, like finding people who love what I write, should be a sheer coincidence of undefined luck. This is how I understand the world of creativity.


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welcome to the WORLD OF HAVEN VALLEY

I am not a cut different from the ordinary human who walks the street. But in my journey, I strive to understand the music that surges from the wide worlds within every individual, that which makes him/her that fragile and sacred at the same time. I have found myself sometimes looking at someone farting with thumps-up as though goading him on to sanity. Seemingly meaningless things have been things that have communicated sense to me especially during louring hours. That is what this journal is. I offer these thoughts to the world with wonted pleasure and gratitude to all that awakens the human in me.

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