it's sunday.
you didn't call.
sunday.
and no call.
it's probably saturday.
feels like sunday.
and no call.
and it's a sunday.
yes, its sunday.
and sunday is remembering
it is sunday.
yet no call.
sunday.
and i remember you didn't call.
This morning, i woke up from a friend's text message with lots of sad stories in it. Not my ordinary waking moment, so to speak. The story was about miscommunication. And how it ended into hurtful words that I would not like to disclose here. Anyway, the story brought me back to a recent sad story, story B.
What is common between these two stories, story A and story B, is that both needed time to heal and forgive. Story B ran deeper than story A though... way deeper.
Mother and daughter were talking one sunday morning. In their conversation, an issue was raised. This one issue is steaming hot that it caused daughter to break out and burst. According to my source, the steaming issue is one that has been kept for a long time now and was never confronted. No closure. Painful words were said that left both even more hurt. Sad noh? Daughter felt that the hurt might not end. She went to her room, fell into bed and sought the comfort of her pillows. Alone, she had no one to talk to except God. It's a sunday so God may be available, she mused. According to the daughter, who is by the way so close to me, she felt there's no way out. She asked God why it had to happen. Silence. She ranted and wailed and cried to God. God was silent. She asked God what to do. God remained silent. Then she too was silenced. After a few minutes, she washed her face and went to eat breakfast.
The sunday afternoon was gloomy. But daughter knew now what to do. She went to hear mass. This time, she went during the time her parents usually go to mass. So they went together. You see mother and daughter seldom go to regular mass together, only on special occasions. This one may be special though. Daughter kissed mother during "peace-be-with-you" and mother kissed back. With all emotions, daughter told me that she sang kordero love song with her heart in tears. And a smile for God who is so great, she felt He was smiling back.
What I learned from story B is that we all get to understand the sad stories we are into only if we listen very closely. It takes courage to listen to what the story says and what it has to say to lead a happy ending. It also takes strength to pursue the happy ending. It's a decision that we face. God gave the right answer. We have to be silent for a while and think back. Then decide whether to live a happy ending or otherwise.
Story B is not finished yet as it is a work in progress. Accordingly, it needed time to end, happily. Hopefully it will, with time and prayers. I wish story A will too, in their time.
Last night, I helped my youngest sister, Lui, study math. She's only in the first grade but she is now learning how to multiply. I gave her number problems and she went, "Ay yan lang! Easy lang yan!". Ang yabang. To my surprise she didn't went through the 'x sets of y sticks then add the sticks' formula. Instead, she stared at me and then started writing down the answers, staring at me after each number problem before writing down. I thought she memorized the multiplication table. You see, this is what 3rd graders during my years would do. Even when I transferred to a public school in 6th grade, the multiplication table is still popular. I remember our math teacher used to call us one by one to recite the multiplication table infront of the class. Hehehe! I did well, you know. I had a notebook with the multiplication table printed on its back cover, in red! The visual person that I am, it was easy for me to recall the table details. Wicked me.
I wanted to test Lui's memory. So I gave her 2-digit and 3-digit problems. Same thing. She stares, writes down answers afterwards. Now this time, I was really really surprised. I asked her who taught her multiplication. "Wala lang. Ako lang". Aba, mayabang nga! Then she filled me with the details. "Ate, skip counting lang. Sabi ni teacher ganito lang daw gawin...".
Skip counting. I learned this in 1st grade but I never used it in answering multiplication problems. Up until now, I do multiplication by memory (or by heart!, since I memorize the table by heart). But it never occurred to me that its as simple as skip counting. Poor me. Looks like old (errr.. not so old) dogs can still learn new tricks.
Skip counting. Take note.
It's been a week since I last got hooked on coke float. To be honest, I didn't try it since it was launched by McDo over national tv until recently. Like that was waaaayyyyy long after the launch. What got me into taste-testing? Hmmmm.. wala na akong ibang makain eh. Purgang purga nko sa manok! Anyway, let me tell you a story of my floating days...
It started out with coke float on a humid day. I decided to go magpalamig at McDo. No to chicken! No to burger! Yes to fries (all time fav'rite)! and... coke float please. And a series of float trips took place. At first, it merely went from a take-out before going to school and one afterwards. Then this happened to all lakads I had. Worst, when I don't have one, I took pains going to Market Market to buy myself one cold coke float. And yes, I get another to-go before I head home (that's usually after I get tired of walking and window shopping). Hay... the floater life! I got so addicted, it took a big chunk off my allowance.
How it happened? I don't know. I remember the fun catching the chocolate syrup-fudge settled at the bottom of the cup. Or how smoothie the drink becomes with perfect mix. Or how yummy it goes with every sip. Oh, well.
I'm off the hook. I'm cured of the addiction, that float. I get a sip now and then, but I'm never the same floater as I used to be.
The end.
P.S.
I also tried different variations: sarsi float, sprite float, Burger King's float, Jollibee's float and home-made float. Just so you would know.
Here are some interpretations I got from dream moods on the chicken run dream. I find each really interesting. I read them in sequence as they appear in my dream and I kinda get a feeling what my dream means.
To dream that you are in school, signifies feelings of inadequacy and childhood insecurities that have never been resolved. It may relate to anxieties about performance and abilities. You may also be going through a "spiritual learning" experience. If you are still in school and dream about school, then it will naturally serve as a backdrop to your dream world. Alternatively, a dream that takes place in school may be a metaphor for the lessons that you are learning from your waking life.
To see bites in your dream, forewarns of danger from someone who has wished you harm, either physical or monetary. Be careful of people who surround you.
To dream that you are being bitten, represents your vulnerability regarding your unresolved issues emotions. You may be pestered by a problem or obstacle.
To see books in your dream, indicates calmness. You will advance toward your goals at a slow and steady pace. Books also symbolize knowledge, intellect, information and wisdom. Consider the type of book. It may represent a significant calling into a specific field of work.
To dream that you are running away from someone, indicates an issue that you are trying to avoid. You are not taking or accepting responsibility for your actions. In particular, if you are running from an attacker or any danger, then it suggests that you are not facing and confronting your fears.
To dream that you are trying to run but cannot make your feet move as fast as you want them to, signifies lack of self-esteem and self-confidence. It may also reflect your actual state of REM paralysis while in the dream state.
Mud
To dream that you are walking in mud, suggests that you are feeling weighed down by a situation, problem, or relationship.
To see a faucet in your dream, signifies how you control your emotions and which ones you allow to be expressed. It may also be indicative of sadness and depression. If you cannot turn the faucet on, then it represents your ability to turn off your emotions at will. You have great self control.
To see muddy or dirty water in your dream, indicates that you are wallowing in your negative emotions. You may need to devote some time to clarify your mind and find internal peace. Alternatively, it suggests that your thinking/judgment is unclear and clouded.To see or pass through a gate in your dream, suggests that you are walking through a new phase of life. It also represents new opportunities and possibilities.
Well.. I guess that's just about it!No, this isn't a review of the animation Chicken Run. This is about my dream last night --- running away from a mad chicken.
I found myself back in the grounds of Pilar College, the school I went during my tender years. There was a box and people had mistaken it for a bomb. I went to see the box, opened it (so brave of me *winks*) and chicks came out. Viola! Underneath was probably mother hen. She's supposed to be a chicken but she doesn't look like one (weird). She had a big round red body and I can't see the wings. She had a yellow beak as long as that of a sea gull. It gave a squeak and started biting me. One hell of a chicken! I was holding a book and guarded myself with it. Mother *&%$_r* err... chicken bit the book intead. I escaped from the evil chicken! I ran the length of the quadrangle although this time it was covered with mud. It looked like an ice skating rink minus with mud instead of ice on it. At first I couldn't run fast enough with mud dragging my feet. What an obstacle course! Sooner, I learned to run lightly leaving footprints as I go. I was nearing gate 1 when I found a faucet. I thought of washing my feet first before I go. Hmp! droplets of muddy water came out. No use. The guard told me to use the faucet near the gate though. Near the gate, I waited in line while others washed their feet.
The end.
I don't recall ever going out of the campus. But it sure felt as though I was to go out after I washed my feet clean.
It's a wonder why when two people hold hands it seems there is no other place in the world where those hands should be but there --- with the person holding it back.
How ordinary yet befitting. How natural!
I don't hold hands with some people anymore. It's sad. But there are no hands to hold. No reasons.
I just finished re-stating my problem statement. I had to get it done a-s-a-p so I can proceed with my thesis project. Funny. I have endless problems, ranging from the serious to self-induced(which is even more serious), but this one -- this ONE!, i can't seem to figure out well. Hmmm...
Was there ever a time in your life that you know you have a problem but you don't know what it is? Big problem.
Maybe, I need a haircut.
Our househelp's grandfather died yesterday. And she had been crying the whole night. It made me wonder what mourning is all about. Why do people cry? Why the sorrow? Why the grief?
This morning, I asked her why she cries. She told me, "Wala nay mulaban nko..."
(I won't have someone to defend me). Sad noh? Sad because it reflects the truth that mourning is for the living and not for the dead. We mourn for the things that we can no longer receive from the deceased like support, friendship, gifts, money, protection and affection. It's a sorrow we inflict upon ourselves because we depend on others for happiness or contentment. Is this how the world mourns? I don't know. Atleast in my world, this is true.
I think to mourn for the dead is the last act of love we can give our deceased loved one. It transcends self. Instead of grieving for our lives without the deceased, we could have grieved over the wasted life the deceased had, or the years of life he still could have experienced, or the joy and love we still could have given and he could have cherished to his death. This is love in its truest sense.
Next time you're in a burol (interment), go figure it out. Listen to the wails of grieving mothers, fathers, siblings, relatives and friends. And see who really mourns for the dead.
No, I haven't experienced such sad emotion (and not too soon please). I can't promise I will not cry and mourn for my pitiful self. But this I know of living and loving.
P.S.
The use of he does not refer to any male within my family and friends *knocks on wood*. He refers to Jen's lolo who died yesterday. May God take him in His care.
Pinang is a name used to describe my "aileen"-ness. It's a character long lost and recently found. I go back to the days when laughter dominated my spirit, when things are seen and cherished as they are, when I can take the good as well as the bad times, when I was free.
I've been different persons but this one stays. And here I am.
