Chocolates, T.S Elliot and Noise

Sometimes I wonder if it's the author's writing or the way we read things that affect the way we view the work, but a protagonist named Jerry Renault changed my life. In eighth grade, our class was instructed to read Robert Cormier's "The Chocolate War": a piece that tackles the typical permutation of themes for a middle schooler: fear and individuality. To save you from spoilers (because I think you should read it), Jerry Renault's character is driven by T.S Elliot's words "Do I dare disturb the universe?". For a whole term, our class dissected that quote and carefully looked into its meaning. Do I dare defy? Do I dare make change? Do I have the courage to disturb my universe? And what was our universe? Who was our universe? How far would we be daring to go for it? For an optimistic thirteen year old at eighth grade, the words implied a challenge and that has never left me. I love the saying so much that I chose it as my classic graduating quote for our yearbook. Its rhetoric brevity creeps on my spine and tests my backbone and pushes me to think if I actually do choose to defy the conventions, if I actually do choose to defy the norm and it pushes me to think about the extent to which I do. 

In all honesty, for the longest time I've been trying to be this advocate of "disturbing my universe", of making change and of making noise so that people turn their heads and lend their ears and pay attention to what I have to say. After all, Individuality is a very exciting thing for a kid to recognise. But over the years, I've learned that not everyone is always willing to do so. I've accepted that not everyone is looking for all that kind of clamour. Maybe T.S Elliot's simple six-word story isn't a glamorous neon-lighted billboard imploring people to gather some hubris and change something already. Maybe he means exactly the opposite.

Through the good and the bad, 2015 in its entirety made me think twice about the brave saying. It taught me something poignant about my ambition and advocacy. I got so lost in this need to prove to everyone that I had so much substance to offer to the table and I had all these ideas that were packed for a trip to greatness. I kept trying to disturb my universe. I was so obsessed by this idea of boldness, noise and reaction and I felt that everything I needed to do had to be aligned with doing something great. And when it didn't? Oh man. I felt as if I let the whole world down. 

I can't stop laughing now.

Dear me of 2015, you do not always have to disturb your universe. You have absolutely nothing to prove to anybody, so rid yourself of any hubris or of any subconscious aims to glorify yourself. It is OKAY if your essay is about a topic that's already been discussed before. It is OKAY if you fall short at giving someone the advice they need. It is OKAY if you cannot find the right words to explain how you feel. It is TOTALLY FINE if an idea you have is something that has already been thought of before. Nothing is new under the sun. Not everything that you do must explicitly spell out some grandeur or your passion or your individuality. Not every essay that you write or every entry that you post needs to have that fluid of gold that spells out how unexplainably distinct you are from your peers or your competitors or the world. Sometimes all you need to is to give all that you are asked for and to follow it all through with diligence.

Dear me of 2015, I hope you listen because I know how you feel. The noise can be so exciting and filling and it gives you purpose and fulfillment and satisfaction and thrill. I know you crave reaction, that you want the chemicals to explode with words and emotions pouring everywhere, where it's all stirring in people's minds. I know you want all the noise to somehow make a difference, but I hope that you realize that you can find the same fervor, intrigue and contentment in its absence. 

Happy new year :)

for whatever we lose

Pieces from the weekend. Realizing that any of my attempts to be deep after a series of photographs sounds extremely patronizing and kind of funny. Just deleted a paragraph of nonsense. Listening to an unhealthy haul of Akon and Jay Sean. Especially Akon. (What is up with the world????)  Reading Douglas Adams, for the first time #CASH. Watching Grave of the Fireflies. Anticipating September.  Hoping that priorities are not dislodged. Glad to know I hope for that.  

P.S How many times have anybody's beach photos been captioned by that poem??? Not surpirsed though. I miss the beach. I'd like to befriend a stranded star. 

college essays got me like

What have I learned in my teen years? Oh wow. I’m answering this question again when I turn 20. But I’m sixteen and I’ve already learned so much. It pains me to think that I only have four more years in this "adventure", yet I am proud to say that I have an amazing feeling that these next four years are going to be some of the best of my life. My favorite age as a teenager was fourteen for reasons I can’t seem to name. Either that or I’m just a bit too lazy to name them. But this transition into the weird world? It’s one helluva of a transition. 

My favorite memories so far would definitely involve high school. I met so many people. All kinds of people. I made a solid group of friends that I know I'm going to remember forever. Lived through experiences that I know I’m going to forget soon: petty drama, weird situations, funny boy stories, fights with parents about college and the future, brilliant grades, horrible essays-- all of which have molded me into who I am today. By no means am I perfect. And by no means am I familiar with experience yet. I’m still quite naive. I’m just learning that everyday life is just whipping up extraordinary things. Anything can happen. Nothing is constant. Hope for the best. Expect the worst. Don’t dwell. Talk is cheap and people are liars, but you’ll always love them. Love books, not boys. Separate petty from the substantial. Lie if it saves you from useless drama. Don’t wear your heart on your sleeve. Don't forget where you come from, don't forget who you are. Everyone's always trying to please somebody, so social status doesn’t matter. Maximize yourself. You are lost or saved by what you value. Nothing to prove, everything to improve. God above all.  

Pieces

This summer, my family and I travelled to Italy. I left Manila feeling like I didn't want to leave at all, but I came back wondering why it took me so long to experience that kind of a trip. I felt different when I got back. The good kind of different, I'd hope. This sudden urge to become an accomplished teenager grew in me, and I suddenly have this goal to just make something out of myself and to just do something important and substantial already. I want my future self to justify these experiences, you know? I travel and I realize I can't be idle. I step out of my comfort zone and I realize that there is still so much for me to learn. There's a whole world out there and it's asking me to come visit. Can't wait.

BACK and FOR REAL

Hi. My name is Stella and I've decided to revive this thing. I liked to tell others that I ended this whole thing ages ago but I realized how strange it must have been to hide from the first chapter of what might seem to be a very good story. I wish I had a good joke or something to lure you back into what all of this used to be but this is what I have so far. I'm kind of excited. My words are going to places they've never been to before. You are place one.

Photodump as promised

monterey - yosemite - grand canyon

So I've been busy.

Here's a sneak peek.

Dear friend,
I'm sure you recognize this thing called 'wanderlust'. The word has probably been on your bio on twitter or on instagram before. And on tumblr you've probably reblogged some funky typographic art that spells it: WANDERLUST...and then it's definition. 100,000 notes? It's practically EVERYBODY'S favorite word so I'm guessing it's rather familiar. Taking its definition, I've realized: who on earth doesn't have the strong desire to travel? To explore and meet new people and see new places? Who doesn't want to be introduced to vibrant cultures with generations of stories and explosive ideas? It's amazing. I agree. I can't deny any of it.
I think the most exciting thing about traveling is the initial anonymity of a city or a place, and how over the days, the city begins to grow in you and suddenly the value of  the currency makes sense and suddenly you know your way around. And only when you begin to believe that you've 'blended in', it's time to go home.
HA. Yes. HOME where nothing happens. On the palette of beauty, home seems to be a monotone hue in a shade of gray. Compared to travel's remarkable element of surprise, home is dull. Home seems to project itself as this incessant reminder of how boring life is..... BECAUSE- of course! Familiarity breeds contempt! Home is the same-old same-old. It's flat. Linear. Singular. Boring. Bla bla bla.
Am I right?
Guess what?
Ha! I'm not.
It's the best place.
We fall in love with unknown cities but home has always loved us. When we need it most, home will amplify that the constant things in our lives will always mean something to us. Maybe familiarity does not always breed contempt, but comfort as well.
I'm proud of my home and where I'm from. The privilege of exposure is always something to look forward to. But even so, I've gotta make sure I come back. Manila is where I've always belonged and where I will always intend to stay.

A memory

It was a foggy Sunday morning and it was very cold. My pink Barbie watch read 6:43 AM. Despite the fact that I cried the night before, my eyes glistened with so much pride because I was only seven years old and this was my very first sleepover with my older cousins. They were the elites- the esoteric group of young pre-teens that I deeply admired. My older cousins multiplied bigger numbers, spelled longer words and no longer wore pajamas. It was a privilege to have a sleepover with them, and I was proud.

Mornings always made me happy despite whatever, but this kind of morning was different. We decided to ditch breakfast and we raced for the park. Above us, a haze of yellow quickly loomed over a purple sky. Below us, the sound of our slippers against the pavement became our music and it echoed around a dozing neighborhood. 

The park was empty when we arrived and we were grateful. This was our kingdom, our headquarters, our mysterious lair, our treehouse and our secret hide out. We played until we found the longest hose I'd ever seen in my entire life. My older cousins gestured me to help them hoist it inside the jungle gym and we let the water trickle down the slides.

I remember laughs, a few races, a bit of sensation and an upset policeman. "We're in mighty trouble." I said. And because one of my cousins nodded hastily in agreement, I repeated what I said about three times. 

The rest is gone. What makes it all worse is that my older cousins don't really remember. Sometimes they nod along with me when I try to tell them the story over and over again - but behind their nods is uncertainty.

Up until after I see the water racing down the slides from the hose and the smug look on my cousins' faces, I can't help but smile. You see, it keeps me thinking--contemplating, even-- that despite the fact that my cousins don't remember, they will always be there. In that memory

I know that behind the algebra equations that I stress and write about on blackboards, behind chick flicks, a heavy school bag and lots of paperwork...behind the glasses, the books and even behind the superficiality, there is STILL a girl. A very young girl with a pink Barbie watch, teddy bear pajamas and loud slipper sounds that clapped and echoed step after step. I can't wait to meet her again. Somehow, someday.

thoughts for april

I fear two things. I fear that time will run out. I want to read twenty more books, I want to be able to make something, to say something or to write something and I always just fear that I'm not going to have enough time to do that.

I never believed that sticking to a routine was a bad decision to make, in fact, I think it's the safest one. Steering clear from the edges of my safety zone always kept me away from the evident, bitter taste of FEAR: fear of the unknown, fear of taking the fall when I knew I didn't have to if I didn't try, fear of having to LEARN from my mistakes the HARD way. I wanted to avoid that. I fear that.

Throughout April, I've learned two things. Stepping out of my comfort zone is always, always going to bring overwhelming results. It may be bad or good and that's the thing. You never really know. But all selfishness, fear of pain, fear of learning - all of that aside, the results will be worth it. And what's life without worth? I've learned the beauty of productivity and maximizing my time. I've learned the essence of keeping myself busy, tuned and wired for the present. After all, my life is what I make it. This very month was what I chose to make it. Next month is going to be what I make it. I have no more time for the past!

But I will have to admit. Sometimes I DO like to be nostalgic, especially when times are tough. Sometimes I DO think WAY too much about the past. Let me tell you something: the past is a truly self-inflicting and harmful place to live in. It is the painful truth, for it can be a deceivingly beautiful place to look at and admire from far away.

Goodbye April, Hello May!

Does it ever get to you that

I can't let pain act as a deterrent for life. I'll admit, I love people and their stories but there are times when people wear me out. Who am I to talk? I'm just some fifteen year old who's probably having a bad day. But do you ever think about how some people just really know how to sink into your skin and rummage through thoughts and feelings that make you want to scream? The sad thing is that sometimes they don't even know it, but the infuriating fact is that sometimes they actually do and it's this thing that tests my backbone and i'm forced into friendships and forced into words that i don't mean. It's crazy. It's crazy what people like me can do. It's crazy how we think. STILL, life is what I make it. Amidst all this, there are good days waiting to be lived and there are good memories waiting to be experienced. April's going to be a good one. 

Photos and thoughts

Psalm 30:5's in my head and I think it's the best thing I've read all week. This is how my March began.

My family isn't so much of the outdoor type. Although we travel and eat out every now and then, we still find most comfort when confided in a small room on a Saturday afternoon where we are gathered around to watch a film that is supposed to be Academy-Award winning, but dad's spoiled the ending and that basically ruins the whole experience (The Prestige- awesome stuff). Ma's got her homemade pizza and some apple pie but since our local grocery won't restock, this is the last apple pie we'll ever eat for God knows how long so we split it evenly. I'm on the bean bag to the left, my brother's on the right. We've never labelled it that way, but it's been registered for almost a year now. The littlest one is oblivious and that's always how it's supposed to be.

I don't think i've ever written about the gift of family, i don't think i've ever rambled on giving thanks. But I don't want to ramble on it for paragraphs and paragraphs because I'm exhausted, but I want you to know that I would and I could but i'm hesitant because i know words won't suffice. Neither will photographs. But dear family, I'll always be grateful.