Uncategorized

Just Like Honey: Lost In Translation

Lost_in_Translation_434“Finding the most special person and then letting them go, makes and keeps them special forever without getting spoiled or soiled by anything.”

According to Roger Ebert, Lost In Translation is the perfect  illustration of the Japanese concept “mono no aware”, which refers to the fleetingness of life – people, moments, and things. There are forces that will pull you toward another person – in this case, loneliness – which will begin such an experience.

***

April 26, 2016:

Interestingly, I was looking through my blog drafts and I saw this unfinished entry from two years ago. The intention from that time past is lost to me. But coincidentally, I’ve rewatched Lost in Translation last weekend, and it’s transported me back to times when all I’ve known was the fleetingness of experience with another, because I don’t believe in permanence, and it only becomes, as long as intended. Loneliness, coincidence, destiny – there are so many reasons why we come and go, and sometimes, when we’re lucky – why we stay.

If any, what I’ve learned most is learning to accept impermanence, leaning to appreciate what is here and now without regard for what lies ahead. With all the clutter inside each compartment in my head, I thirst to run away sometimes, or to just be here, or to just be.

So many things are lost to me, but countless emotions like tangled strings connected to god-knows-who, what, or where, they stay. All of these embedded in memories that we choose to remember. Each a story, each a tear shed, each a smile meant for another. Each, as time goes by, gets lost in translation, fades into memory, but truth is, we never forget. At least for me I don’t.

Standard
Uncategorized

The in-betweens of crushing sorrow and maddening silence,  leaving and loving, waking and dreaming, that’s where you will most likely find me.

In between times when I can’t hold it in (and I even take pride in not crying because I’m a big girl), that’s where you will find me nowadays.

You will find me trying to scream but all that there is are my words turned into sand because words escape me, like how I try to catch sand with my toes but they slip from underneath. Like a cat, I try my luck with all my stealth to creep behind my sadness, I try, I really do, but I’m the one that gets startled and burden crushes me. I try to put it in writing but all that come out are acid tears that drill holes through paper because no matter how sharp or stinging I feel, I can’t seem to find the right sentences to put them there. My throat is hoarse from the countless times I’ve tried to purge but all I come up with are clouds circling inside my head, clouding over reason but whispering assurances, “you need to go through this, you need to let it out, you need this” because I am in between crushing sorrow and maddening silence, leaving and loving, waking and dreaming, and I want to be somewhere where sadness is without and where limbo isn’t a feeling but a dream where certainty can exist.

Standard
Uncategorized

First of March

I woke up with a very surreal and strange feeling, one that you get after a long, hard cry that everything else just seems less real, less raw than the tears letting themselves out. Crying is that emotional transition, an acceptance that things will never be the same. It’s an acknowledgment and surrender to change. It’s a sort of farewell, and a greeting for something better. You cross your fingers and hope.

Standard
Uncategorized

Masters of the Mountains

It always fascinates me how hiking and spelunking guides never slip or lose their balance, no matter the footwear or weather. Most of them would be clad in almost-tattered rubber slippers, or Crocs-type of footwear, willingly carrying 50-60 liter bags and still making it look like a walk in a (flat) park while the rest of you struggle and stumble. With every step they are certain, having been there so many times before, memorizing each rock, soil, slip and slide, knowing not to make the same mistake again. I wonder how many hours of practice they’ve had, if they’ve already clocked in their full 10,000 hours into mastery. They were born to be the masters of the mountains, their mistresses.

Standard
Uncategorized

February 27

  1. There are still things I tend to do even though we’re no longer together, like tiptoeing around her feelings and trying to keep my happiness to my own. Yesterday, I was talking to my dad about something he may have shared on social media, and asked him to be careful at least with who can see it (because I know they’re friends). Bluntly, he just said, “Once lang naman. Besides, malaki na siya (Besides, she’s a grown woman, she can take it).” Makes sense. With me, there are just certain habits that I can’t break yet — like how it has always been, with trying to hold her feelings important. Don’t get me wrong, because now, I have a love that, without a doubt, is bound to sweep me into an amazing future, and this is something that I do not question. There’s also just a fragment of me – partly guilt and partly habit, that because I know I hurt her, does not want to release more punches. I think, it’s really mostly guilt, and it’s me and my personal principles scratching at the surface. It’s a guilty feeling I need to let go of, because I have yet to learn that I cannot hold dear all the feelings of everyone I hold dear.
  2. The 1975 just released a new album (i like it when you sleep, for you are so beautiful yet so unaware of it). Most likely to make me cry: She Lays Down, about Matty’s mom’s post-natal depression. Most likely to make me fall in love: This Must be my Dream, ironically, about a love that cannot be. Most likely to make me get up and dance: The Sound. Makeout song: ILIWYSFYASBYSUOI.
  3. Sometimes I still feel like I’m in a daze with work. Or it’s probably the restlessness and exhaustion of each day. I don’t know. Let’s see.
  4. There should be eight days in a week. I’m exhausted.
Standard