Family Conversations: Last Will

My brother is dyslexic. He doesn't like documenting things. He's also ComSci. He's a little weird. All in all, he's a funny and adorable brother.

Pat (joking. Pretending to be an old man): Aki, listen, I will give you my last will. If I--
Me: No. Your plans will die with you.
Pat: Aki!!! You're a meanie. (Then he sulks, sounding hurt) Naka-label naman lahat ng plans ko sa notebook ko e.

Hearts and Stories

Forgive me. Forgive me, my King. I did not turn to You when I got lost last weekend. I was just so tired. And I needed an accomplishment to assure myself. Forgive me. I know I won't find true assurance in success. Old habits die hard, I guess. But I know You're fixing me in that aspect. You've started fixing me in others. But there I was looking to make and finish something to make me feel good. And I missed the effect of stories so much that I tried, I really tried to write again. Write romance again. But my heart has changed. I am glad for some of the changes. But unfortunately, a heartbreak does leave its cracks. I don't want it to. I want no scars. And I've generally managed to fight off the dark emotions. But the fatigue and the frustration of the past week weakened me to the point that I couldn't fight the darkness that dragged me into the pit again.

It's so funny how, before I ever got involved with a man, it was so easy to write love stories. I had never experienced the scenarios, but they were possibilities I had no qualms exploring. But now, when I've had my experience, it suddenly has become so difficult to write. Weird, isn't it? Now that I actually know how it feels, I cannot write it. Now that I actually have experienced being loved and being hurt, I suddenly feel like I'm not credible to write about these things.

It's frustrating. This is my genre and I couldn't write for it because now, there are places in my mind I don't want to set foot in. There are emotions that lead to other emotions I don't want to remember. I couldn't help but think looks of contentment are nothing but deception. Words, beloved words, are nothing but lies. But no, how can I think that? Words are magic to me. After You, my King, and the people I treasure, words are what I live for. But they are untrue upon the lips of one I once loved. But I always thought love was the ultimate. That love was true and one doesn't simply stop loving someone just like that. And over the fact that he broke my heart, what really shattered my world was the fact that what I had believed in was a lie. And if love was the ultimate, and love was a lie, then anything else in this world that I believed in could possibly be a lie, too. What was true, then?

That was when I sought You, my King. Because beyond love, there was only You left. And I needed something to hold on to. And love was flimsy and deceitful. My Lord, my God, my King, I have fallen into this dark pit again. It usually happens when there is so much to do and I don't have enough money. I know there's no connection between the three. Save, maybe, for the fact that I feel inadequate in all three situations. You've saved me before. You continue to do so even now. Take me out of this darkness. Light up the dark spaces in my mind and erase the cracks on my heart. I know that this darkness is merely a state of mind, not a fact of life. Change my mind, my King. Change the way I see things. Let me forgive. Teach my heart to grow up.

My Lord, I do not regret anything, though. Because of everything that happened, I met people. New people. People I normally wouldn't meet simply because our crowds are different. In the past year, You've shown me men who are good at heart. Fluffy feely marshmallows. Sunny eloquent beings who are in touch with their feminine side. Princes who fought for their princesses. Loyal knights who believe in happy endings. They didn't have it easy. Their hearts were broken, too, at some point in time. But they pressed on. They have songs in their hearts. They value the women in their lives. They exist. You wouldn't show me things and deny me of them, right? My intended isn't with them. They are too young for me. And you know full well, my King, that I didn't ask for a prince. I asked for an emperor.

Am I allowed to wish, my King? Will you chase away the darkness when my dreams hit chords that call despair into the picture? Will you assure me that my heart getting broken is not a punishment for my dreaming? That I'm allowed to dream. That I'm allowed to aspire. That I'm allowed to expect that You would give me an emperor, someone who understands that it can sometimes be lonely at the top, that the responsibilities can get a little heavy, that I need reassurance every now and then when things get overwhelming. Someone who would relieve me of the need to appear strong all the time. Someone brave enough to tell me explicitly where we are, what his expectations of me are, and what I'm doing wrong if I am doing something wrong. I am proud and arrogant, Lord. But not on purpose. I need someone who has the courage enough to tell me when I'm in the wrong. Will you give me a man who understands that I feel awkward asking people to "hang out," but that I actually like hanging out? That I may appear cold, but I actually enjoy physical contact? I'm just not used to it. That I actually want to be surprised and swept off my feet? That I actually like flirts? Will You give me a man who is stable both financially and emotionally? Who is generous in both his resources and his words? Ah, words... Would You give me someone eloquent? Someone who wields words skillfully, artistically and responsibly? Who understands fully how words are a sword? Will You give me someone romantic? Someone who is not afraid to declare to the whole world what I am to him? Someone who would go out of his way to add a few more stars to my sky, to add a little more wattage to my sunshine, to add a couple more colors to my day?

Would You call him to You as You have done with me?

I will love him, Lord.

I asked You about him before, and you didn't say no. You said wait. No, actually, You said, be still. Know that I am God. Wait for Me. Be strong. Take heart. Wait for Me. You will no longer ba called Deserted. Have faith. What more do you want Me to say?

Forgive me, my King. I am whiny. I will wait for You. In the meantime, just light a candle for me. Chase away the darkness in my mind. Melt away the cracks on my heart.

Family Conversations: Veggies

Mom: You didn't eat the vegetables?
Pat: Not the boiled ones. I just don't like boiled veggies.
Mom: Why not?
Pat: It just looks so... unhappy.

Family Conversations: Friends

Maita: So what do you guys want for dinner? Fried rice?
Marie: Yeah, fried rice is good.
Me: Wait, but I won't be home for dinner.
Maita: Why not?
Me: I'm going to a friend's birthday concert.
Maita: Well, that's your fault for having friends.
Me: What?! (turns to Marie)
Marie: I was going to say the same thing.

Truth Serum at the Office

I don't know why, but God must have sprayed truth serum in the office. The applicants just blurt out what they normally don't say in an interview. It's good for us because it gives us a clear picture of their personalities, helping us see which guys are a match to our office culture. So thank You, Lord, for that.

Where is the Wonder, Where's the Awe?

Where is the wonder, where's the awe?
Where's dear Alice knocking on the door?
Where's the trapdoor that takes me there,
where the real is shattered by a Mad March Hare?

Where is the wonder, where's the awe?
Where are the sleepless nights I used to live for?
Before the years take me,
I wish to see the lost in me.

- I Want My Tears Back, Nightwish


While my sister was cleaning up a few days ago, she found some of my stuff from high school. They were drawing books and notebooks and brown envelopes that contained my stories.

I wrote a whole lot in high school. And it wasn't bad, actually. And I wrote in both English and Filipino. I filled notebooks with prose. I wrote poetry. I typed (yes, typewritten. Those were what the brown envelopes contained) scripts. My drawing books were filled with characters I loved. And I loved them as entities, and not as mere works of art. I drew costumes. I made back stories. They were alive to me. And I lived in their world half of the time. Maybe more. Stories never left me. I always had a story. In fact, they were so many that I couldn't stick to one. I couldn't sleep without a story playing in my head. Stories were my world.

What happened between then and now?

Suddenly, I find myself running a game company. Suddenly, getting my work out there doesn't seem like such an impossible feat anymore. But where is the heart I once had? I still have stories. Not as many as before. But they're still there. I still like stories. I still read, i still watch. But the near-obsessive force that drove me to learn HTML amd JavaScript just so I could make a fanpage for my favorite story isn't there anymore.

I guess on the one hand, that's good because I'm more level-headed now. But on the other hand, I miss it. I still seek the thrill stories (whether they're mine or others') used to give me. I know that I need a clear head and a slightly icy heart to make decisions to push a piece of work to its best. But I wish, oh, how I wish, that I'd be able to feel that almost-obsessive force when making a story again.

Where is the wonder?

Where's the awe?

Before the years take me, I wish to see the lost in me...

“This project has completely confiscated my life, darling. Consumed me as only hero work can.” -Edna Mode, The Incredibles