Saturday, October 16, 2010
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Love & Illusions
"It ain't working at all" He said
"What did I just hear you say?" I asked her.
"It ain't just working, piggy-head. And I don't know how far I'd go. It's hurting. You know I thought he was the best guy for me, the right one, you know? But I never figured I was in love with such a moron."
I looked at her, and wanted to ask her to awake from her dream, but... you know, it hurts waking up sometimes.
The fact is, most people are in love with the idea of love, they fall in love for their illusions. We often have models in our head, some "crush" we pick up from the tv series, that guy we read about in a book, the player we have watched from a distance... and then, we suddenly meet someone who looks like him/her or like that man we carry in our dreams. That is what falling in love with the idea of love is all about.
Danger: our relationships remain under the "prise" of an illusion. We want our loved one to be the guy in our dreams. And it gets just too tight, guy you won't imagine the hell that poor fellow would go through trying to play that role?
That is the crisis bud.
"What did I just hear you say?" I asked her.
"It ain't just working, piggy-head. And I don't know how far I'd go. It's hurting. You know I thought he was the best guy for me, the right one, you know? But I never figured I was in love with such a moron."
I looked at her, and wanted to ask her to awake from her dream, but... you know, it hurts waking up sometimes.
The fact is, most people are in love with the idea of love, they fall in love for their illusions. We often have models in our head, some "crush" we pick up from the tv series, that guy we read about in a book, the player we have watched from a distance... and then, we suddenly meet someone who looks like him/her or like that man we carry in our dreams. That is what falling in love with the idea of love is all about.
Danger: our relationships remain under the "prise" of an illusion. We want our loved one to be the guy in our dreams. And it gets just too tight, guy you won't imagine the hell that poor fellow would go through trying to play that role?
That is the crisis bud.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Give me Space.... 'tis getting shitty
"Don't you think you are getting too much space?"
Have you ever ridden on a jeepney that is well packed, or taken a train, especially in this our parts in the early or late rush hours of the day? You would understand what physical space means. It means if the bus is so tight, it becomes shitty with plenty of that sweat-smell and the dizzying air of tired bodies.... and it is more than that...
It means we have our space in this little wan nude of a world. It also means others have got space. That space could be physical, moral, relational or spiritual. It has to do with the rights of others, and not only the right to move, to express themselves. We all have this fundamental need to remain human. We need space to be human. We are not just a specie, we are individuals unfolding in the mystery of time....
Did you ever know this when you got into a relationship? Did you ever realize or do you realize when it gets a little tight? Sometimes we always feel tight because we want to get the space before us. It happens often because we even take more than our space. We suffocate others with talk; we are farthing everywhere, pissing people off, jerking everywhere like the world belonged to us.
It is not out of courtesy that we cede place to others. We do so because we believe that the other has hopes and expectations, the other is a bearer of infinite possibilities also, the other is broken and is pieces that needs to be put together... the othe... is always a mystery, sacred and full of promise.. And this is very important.... many relationships fail because we look at ourselves and think about our time, our space, our needs, our future. The other with whom I am in a relationship has a future, has hopes, has expectations and.... mind you, the other is also a promise.
By leaving space to others, we discover our own place.
Have you ever ridden on a jeepney that is well packed, or taken a train, especially in this our parts in the early or late rush hours of the day? You would understand what physical space means. It means if the bus is so tight, it becomes shitty with plenty of that sweat-smell and the dizzying air of tired bodies.... and it is more than that...
It means we have our space in this little wan nude of a world. It also means others have got space. That space could be physical, moral, relational or spiritual. It has to do with the rights of others, and not only the right to move, to express themselves. We all have this fundamental need to remain human. We need space to be human. We are not just a specie, we are individuals unfolding in the mystery of time....
Did you ever know this when you got into a relationship? Did you ever realize or do you realize when it gets a little tight? Sometimes we always feel tight because we want to get the space before us. It happens often because we even take more than our space. We suffocate others with talk; we are farthing everywhere, pissing people off, jerking everywhere like the world belonged to us.
It is not out of courtesy that we cede place to others. We do so because we believe that the other has hopes and expectations, the other is a bearer of infinite possibilities also, the other is broken and is pieces that needs to be put together... the othe... is always a mystery, sacred and full of promise.. And this is very important.... many relationships fail because we look at ourselves and think about our time, our space, our needs, our future. The other with whom I am in a relationship has a future, has hopes, has expectations and.... mind you, the other is also a promise.
By leaving space to others, we discover our own place.
Monday, May 3, 2010
the Cry for Inner Freedom
I just finished reading Baldwin's "The Fire Next Time" and the cry that runs through the book with refined lyricism still bores within my flesh of human.
I want to be free... I want to be... Oh no, I am being cheated... I don't feel great... and the words are poorly articulated because they arise from a mirage where nothing seems to be well named. And however they are articulated, their hidden import is so darn clear.
You will find people who transform the expression into a sigh, into a cynical laughter, or some such expression. In the depths of it all, there is fear... the fear that others may put a finger at what we really are, the fear that we might lose something or someone, the fear of hurting. The fear of letting them see our fear, of making a difference or being what the world doesn't expect us to be...
The cry is for freedom, and it echoes everywhere in the world today. You will hear it in the by-ways of the cities, down the slumps of big cities, or up there where the well-to-do camp in mansions of lapis lazuli. You'll notice something uneasy in the smiles that look back to you when you walk through the crowd... In the laughter, you feel something feigned, something that isn't honest, that doesn't come from the reality that inhabit us. It goes with this desire to look good even when everything seems to go wrong. The great laugh and smile as though nothing goes wrong in their lives, of course, they have to make the weak think that life is easy with them: they have a mask and they have got to keep it on.
... and the pain is that of not feeling that we are who we were meant to be. The pain of the cry to be free from our own caprices or the caprices within which our world has thrust us. The truth is we are manipulated and manipulative. The truth is, we would hardly survive without the mask through which we see the world and through which we reveal ourselves. The truth is simple: it is that truth is painful, and we are very often afraid to put a finger on it because we would then know who we are and what the world sees us to be.
And would you like to be free? The answer goes deeper that what you may imagine. And it is the simplest thing you could as well imagine. It is just about letting things and people be what and who they are. It is looking at reality with naked eyes... letting its speak to you without forcibly willing to hear just things that please you. Accepting things that break you and breaking things you must break; letting go of what you can't hold and holding onto what returns to your right. Knowing that you can't please everyone and that you cannot find an answer to every enigma is a sure path towards liberation. It is accepting that you are weak, that you could also be helpless, that somewhere you are hurt, without hiding your tears, without covering the pain.
It is always and everywhere, a noble and an act of freedom to be just who you are. To see the world the way your sight goes... and follow your dreams with courage.
I want to be free... I want to be... Oh no, I am being cheated... I don't feel great... and the words are poorly articulated because they arise from a mirage where nothing seems to be well named. And however they are articulated, their hidden import is so darn clear.
You will find people who transform the expression into a sigh, into a cynical laughter, or some such expression. In the depths of it all, there is fear... the fear that others may put a finger at what we really are, the fear that we might lose something or someone, the fear of hurting. The fear of letting them see our fear, of making a difference or being what the world doesn't expect us to be...
The cry is for freedom, and it echoes everywhere in the world today. You will hear it in the by-ways of the cities, down the slumps of big cities, or up there where the well-to-do camp in mansions of lapis lazuli. You'll notice something uneasy in the smiles that look back to you when you walk through the crowd... In the laughter, you feel something feigned, something that isn't honest, that doesn't come from the reality that inhabit us. It goes with this desire to look good even when everything seems to go wrong. The great laugh and smile as though nothing goes wrong in their lives, of course, they have to make the weak think that life is easy with them: they have a mask and they have got to keep it on.
... and the pain is that of not feeling that we are who we were meant to be. The pain of the cry to be free from our own caprices or the caprices within which our world has thrust us. The truth is we are manipulated and manipulative. The truth is, we would hardly survive without the mask through which we see the world and through which we reveal ourselves. The truth is simple: it is that truth is painful, and we are very often afraid to put a finger on it because we would then know who we are and what the world sees us to be.
And would you like to be free? The answer goes deeper that what you may imagine. And it is the simplest thing you could as well imagine. It is just about letting things and people be what and who they are. It is looking at reality with naked eyes... letting its speak to you without forcibly willing to hear just things that please you. Accepting things that break you and breaking things you must break; letting go of what you can't hold and holding onto what returns to your right. Knowing that you can't please everyone and that you cannot find an answer to every enigma is a sure path towards liberation. It is accepting that you are weak, that you could also be helpless, that somewhere you are hurt, without hiding your tears, without covering the pain.
It is always and everywhere, a noble and an act of freedom to be just who you are. To see the world the way your sight goes... and follow your dreams with courage.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
mating
rolling on the mossy landscape
wide spaces... endless stretch.
what will stop me?
what will stop this motion
of words born for a space
void, and dark....
darkness was the light, its own language
unique, defying senses---
I lie here. I feel everything. I sense them.
and as the senses inebriate with the beauty of mating
i see myself in you. frail in my power
weak in my conquest.
wide spaces... endless stretch.
what will stop me?
what will stop this motion
of words born for a space
void, and dark....
darkness was the light, its own language
unique, defying senses---
I lie here. I feel everything. I sense them.
and as the senses inebriate with the beauty of mating
i see myself in you. frail in my power
weak in my conquest.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Subscribe To "The Seer of Haven Valley
Posts
All Comments