Tag Archives: love
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Our Story

5 Oct

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Grow, Little G

19 Nov

I can’t recall, not even once

Sparing you a favored glance

Like a lily embraced by the sun

You seemed to wither when it’s gone

 

But time stood still at least for you

Lost in years I never knew

Scarred, ill, you took life’s test

Surviving all, outlived the rest

 

Less affection warmed your days

Silent struggles you had to face

Yet a smile would shine in your eyes

A color kept by heaven’s skies

 

I’m sorry I wasn’t there to see

How  silent dawn had set you free

Now a lily grows where love never dies

In a color kept by heaven’s skies.

 

 

 

 

The Night Destiny Visited Me

30 Aug
irrelevant but pretty image from weheartit.com

irrelevant but pretty image from weheartit.com

                I just realized that I don’t believe in destiny.

                I mean, there could be such thing as destiny, but in the mere sense that it is a label for anything that’s happening; there’s nothing so magical and special about it. Things happen, and those things are the result of every human action. It’s all a matter of choices and decisions and getting others entangled in our strings. I don’t know why I’m writing this right now, but I’m just feeling so annoyed. I’m supposed to be doing a reflection paper on a chick flick movie, and I got two more subjects to study. The thing is I couldn’t get this reflection paper started because I’m suddenly feeling so disgusted with the movie and its superbly fictional perception of destiny. A man falls unconscious for four hours at sea and survives, meets his first love after twenty long years, rekindles their affection even if the girl’s married, faces the pain of their past decisions, gets killed by his abusive father, and had his heart donated to his beloved’s teenage son who of all times got into an accident. I can’t find any moral worth dwelling in, and instead I’m killing precious time. I find the story unrealistic, plain and predictable and the only thing that seems to be the theme is overly dramatic and openly self-manifesting destiny. Ew.

I’m actually a fan of love stories. My favorite is The Hunger Games. It’s not the typical chick flick one could expect, with elements like an unjust future society, gluttonous clown-looking elites, poisonous berries, poverty-stricken districts, and a 90% screen time of violence and death for audience entertainment. But the moment I read it I knew my standards on true love would escalate to places unimaginable. Maybe it’s the black and white background that intensified the color of love, that it’s not even red but of a je ne sais quoi color that probably exists only in heaven. Love wasn’t self-manifesting or trying to catch the spotlight. Love wasn’t in every line, it was in fact barely said. It was just there, simple and quiet, but overwhelmingly yet not overdramatically powerful. That story is a real work of art, I tell you. Looking at it, I can spot destiny’s crafty handiwork, but it doesn’t come so obviously which makes it rather realistic. Plus, the philosophical ideas are revolutionary.  It’s just amazing; thinking of that story now, I’m starting to believe in destiny again, completely invalidating my opening statement up there and stealing whatever sense remains in this work so far. Now the pieces are drawn together: in real life, a story doesn’t come together to portray destiny, but rather, it is destiny that works in trifles to build a story.

The Red String of Fate from weheartit.com

The Red String of Fate, from weheartit.com

                Digging deeper into destiny, I am a strong admirer of one Eastern legend. It’s called the Red String of Fate, a belief that there is an invisible red string that connects us with people we’re bound to meet. Usually it is said to be invisibly tied around the pinky finger or around the ankle. This string may stretch or tangle, but never break. You may ask, so what? I say, so nothing. It doesn’t matter in the rational sense because this legend itself transcends its practical irrelevance two levels higher. First, it’s a legend. Second, it’s invisible. It’s like a made up story of something which even in that made up context is hard to prove. The string couldn’t even be manipulated, and you don’t get to choose who holds the other end. Even without its name, it’s a nice metaphor of realistic destiny, accurately depicting what destiny really is: a universal element that’s just there – unseen, uncontrollable, but unnecessarily acknowledged and glorified by all.


“It makes me realize that the best stories exist beyond books, and the best Writer beyond this world.”


Everything is actually meant to be. It’s the label we put in it that develops a hyperbolic perception. Yes, I cringe at dramatic portrayals of destiny in books and movies. I snort at cheesy lines.  I hate love that does not take time. I instead find myself drawn to accidentals, and a love that’s painted by patience and losing oneself. I like seeing people meet and fall in love, because it’s just beautiful. Their strings are one, and it’s amazing to imagine how they have lived apart for years, doing this and that unaware of the invisible red string that connects them. And then, their worlds drift closer until they overlap – and finally cross each other’s path. The string entangles them, making it hard to walk apart, and then they’re just stuck with each other. They become part of each other. I like hearing such stories in real life; it makes me realize that the best stories exist beyond books, and the best Writer beyond this world.

Wow, I said a lot. I’m not even discussing love yet. Funny how love is always associated with destiny, which of course I’m not going to negate. Again, I’m not saying there’s no such thing as destiny; there is. I define destiny as simply ‘what is’. Maybe I’ve just outgrown storybooks that destiny as a mystical manipulating agent is hard to believe in, making me despise chick flick movies.

Who cares if destiny really works the way we think it does anyway? After all, there is no truth, just reality – how we perceive all things to be.

Into Your World

19 Jul
lyrics from Angel by EXO, which inspired this whole piece

lyrics from Angel by EXO, which inspired this whole piece


“Hilarious it is, for me to fear losing you, when you were never mine at all.”


I’ve been with you the moment you were born. The very second that breathed life into you, my own existence started to breathe. It was like being born again and granted with life though I never knew how it felt and neither will I feel losing it. But I feel more alive than the rest of the time eternity had granted me. I guess this is ‘life’ for beings like me, to watch someone be born only to die someday like a lily that blooms in the morning only to wither at night. I lived like this for centuries, although until now I’m still quite hesitant to use the glorious word ‘live’ to describe my state of existence.

Nothing has been as blissful as watching you grow, and being part of it in a way only the divinity and I understand. You’ve become who you are; time really flies fast in one person’s hourglass, especially when all this time I have set my eyes on nothing else but you. I’ve protected you from harm, and it was nothing of a tedious work for me. It is what I am created for, what I’ll spend forever existing for. But whenever I think of that someday when I’d lose you, a part of my being feels torn apart. Hilarious it is, for me to fear losing you when you were never mine at all.

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You were no longer a child, but I watched you cry. Could it be really that painful? I felt so sorry the very moment the first teardrop rolled a line down your precious cheek. I kept cars from crashing into you, taken stones away from your path, blocked the stiff wind, but I couldn’t protect your heart. I protected you from anyone, but I helplessly watched someone break what ought to be guarded the most. You cried out all the pain, whispering how you wanted to escape from your reality. You wished to be happy and oblivious like angels. How I longed to sit beside you right then and tell you how angels break at the sight of you. I wanted to take your hand and wipe your tears. I wanted to mend your broken heart. Thinking of it, I felt as if I myself had a heart… and it, too, was broken like yours.

I close my eyes and desperately try to feel the wind. In my fantasy, it’d would carry me into your world; it would take me to you. I’d walk side by side with you and everywhere we go would be more of a paradise than Eden itself had been. That heartwarming smile you have would be there forever, and you’d be brighter than any of the angels I’ve ever seen. Perhaps I’d then be fallen, with nowhere else to go and no wings to fly back. I’d lose eternal life but you’d be my eternity. That alone is more than the endlessness of forever for me and for that I’d stop existing and start living. Maybe it wouldn’t be forever, but time wouldn’t matter against the promise of being together.


“I’d lose eternal life but you’d be my eternity.”


I open my eyes, amd I’m back to the reality of a lifeless existence. I desperately let my fantasy play again and again, since it is the only thing I can take control of. This is my reality… to light and guard, to rule and guide. But somehow it isn’t enough. I fly free yet I feel chained. I look ahead of me, and I see miles and miles of eternity. It’s like a river that flows without the promise of reaching the sea. If only I could be like you and be with you. Yesteryear I existed, tomorrow onward I will. But right now, there is only one thing I wish… to escape into your world.

D.A’s Photo Quote

15 Apr

Just a quote from my previous post! Do share!

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The Price and Prize of Love

14 Apr

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The Price and Prize of Love

Having been raised by the typical religious Filipino family, I spent all fifteen years on earth with a ‘Holy Week’ label on our April calendar. Like what most Catholics do, we go to church, repent, grieve, and look forward to easter where we welcome the risen Lord instead of hunting colorful eggs in the backyard.  We are again and again reminded of the passion of Christ, His seven last words, the fourteen stations of the cross. Priests and elders speak of His undying love that brought Him to death, of salvation and of renewing ourselves at the dawn break of Sunday while people listen, listen and listen without, sadly, making a difference.

It’s an obvious fact that people get used to all these activities that they become merely a celebration of an age-old tradition instead of a serene week of self-reflection. As I go to church and walk the way of the cross, I wonder, how many of these people would not deny Him until a cock’s crow marks the break of dawn? How many actually cringe at every whip on the Lord’s back? How many walk bloodied steps to wipe His face? How many of them welcome Mary into their arms as Jesus entrusts her to be our mother at the point of His death? How many would believe that He has risen, without touching the wounds of His palms?

That number wouldn’t matter. We are no saints; I understand that somehow people find it hard to completely offer a moment to the Lord and accept His life into their own, even for a week. I am guilty of that. Yes we study, we remember, we enlive Christ’s every step from the supper table to Calvary. But God is not going to test us on how much we know about His life; He will merely watch what we’ve done with ours. Holy Week is a perfect time to be one with Him, as we remember the extent of His love. This is the exact meaning of acknowledging the passion of Christ: to let love dominate. He didn’t love us for us to love Him, but rather for us to be the concrete living image of His love to others.

I’ve read and heard love stories – quite a lot, actually. They say that love is bliss but causes grief, love is worth fighting for but true love lets go. Love brings out the best but provokes the worst. There’s always a ‘but’ as a consequence of love. Well I say that love is perfection by its pure self. Love is love, no synonym, no antonym. Love is always and forever good; it will never cause evil. It is when love’s selflessness is lost that love is overpowered by emotional greed. This has always been my concept of love. I hate it when I hear stories of people who are in love but are hesitant to fight for it, as if love alone is not worth defending nor is it a worthy defendant. I hate it when people say that love is not enough. If it’s not enough, it’s not love but merely a lovely cowardice.

If there was something new I learned this time, it’s that love means pain. True, people love because love itself is happiness. But when we begin to embrace and accept pain, it’s true love – one that almost resembles Divine Love. The best thing that Christ on the cross proves is that love will not always be easy. Love means pain, love may cost a life, but it is always worth it. Love is always worth the fight. We may not be gaining anything for yourself, but we will be giving everything to somebody. To love is a right, a privilege, and a duty. Jesus died for love so we could live to love. Let’s not waste it by underestimating how much it can do. In the first place, love saved and changed the world.

Again, love is love. The price? Pain. The prize? Love! Yes, pain makes love genuine. And the only thing you gain from love, is love itself. As Paulo Coelho said, love is. No words can describe it. Because love itself is worthy of everything. If you find this nonsensical, don’t complain. That simply means, you still don’t know love. One day when it comes, everything will make sense and the rest of the world will make you understand it.

This Holy Week, let us not dwell on the concrete examples of faith. By concrete I mean the things we have grown accustomed to, so much that we fail to reflect on the reason why Jesus is still nailed on the cross on our Catholic altars despite the fact that He rose from the dead a long long time ago. Yes, we Catholics value the image of the suffering Christ. It is because, I believe, Jesus on the cross is the best reminder that love will not always be easy. Love may take a huge price, but the prize will always be worth it. So don’t hesitate to love because you fear pain, for love means pain, and pain is what tells us we’re alive.

True Love

24 Oct

Time reveals love by itself. No one can tell but you.

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