Six years overdue, I finally received the shiny card granting me the privilege to responsibly and safely operate an automobile. Several trips on days with much unwelcome rains and endless waiting in pointless, disorganized queues resulted in my name printed on a Restriction Two, Condition A non-professional driver's license.
It was a license to a new freedom.
As I was driving home with my mom, she told me how careful I was since now, I had a license to protect. Before, I was driving under a student license -- lawful consequences of my actions had little weight on my shoulders. But now, things are much, much different. Each and every missed red light is now against my name. Each yield sign driven without pause can put other motorists in danger because of me. Every lane change without a polite signal can cause much unneeded stress because of my lack of discipline.
She was right.
As I patiently waited for pedestrians to cross, I suddenly became fearful of driving. There are so many things to be aware of all at the same time. There are so many things that can happen that can cost lives. There are so many responsibilities tied to driving, and I am not so sure I like them all.
Gently stepping on the gas, I firmly held the steering wheel as the car moved forward. I have received not only a license to freedom, but a license to do things I have never done before. I am no longer just a passenger. I can now steer my own vehicle and bring it to places it has never been to.
Now, I can follow all those uncharted roads in my life because for once, I have proven that I can: the shiny license bearing my name has given me freedom to believe in myself.
Showing posts with label Into the Sunlight. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Into the Sunlight. Show all posts
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
The Long Walk Home
"Kuya, tabi lang ho."
The jeep was cruising along the then empty roads of Commonwealth. It was enjoying its freedom to reign the highway even for a little while. However, the rather dilapidated vehicle abruptly swerved, weaved across several lanes, and ground to an abrupt halt in response to my call.
St. Peter's Parish was quite the distance away from the usual place where I end my commute.
It was a few minutes before midnight when I arrived. I was desperate to find a sincere feeling of peace as I looked up at the cross that was a cerulean beacon of hope. Overwhelmed by the amount of fear from the uncertain, I lit four candles without any intentions of prayer. My eyes vacantly stared at the flames that persevered on the chilly winds that battered them. They burned with vigor at the beginning, but slowly waned as time soldiered on. Cold gusts mocked and reduced their presence, but the four small icons of hope never gave up. They patiently kindled their inner strength and fought bravely not to lose their brilliance. Not letting go, flickering to the point of being extinguished -- they were doing it for my sake.
It was then and there that I found a piece of the peace of mind that I was looking for.
A few minutes past twelve, despite ensconced, I bade farewell to the four candles and thanked them for showing me a glimpse of peace I tearfully wanted to see. Heading home, I passed by the entrance only to be transfixed by the kingly image of the cross. Rays of white illuminated the surrounding darkness, just like the four modest candles that gave me a serene sense of solace. No words escaped my lips, but my heart was overflowing with words of gratitude.
With a humble step, I held onto the peace that I have obtained. My confused mind calmed with each and every stride. My eyes lit up with each new sight I saw. The slow and steady pace of my journey made me once again appreciate the littlest things that made me content before. Everything that passed reassured me that whatever may and will happen, I can always go the distance and take the long walk home.
The jeep was cruising along the then empty roads of Commonwealth. It was enjoying its freedom to reign the highway even for a little while. However, the rather dilapidated vehicle abruptly swerved, weaved across several lanes, and ground to an abrupt halt in response to my call.
St. Peter's Parish was quite the distance away from the usual place where I end my commute.
It was a few minutes before midnight when I arrived. I was desperate to find a sincere feeling of peace as I looked up at the cross that was a cerulean beacon of hope. Overwhelmed by the amount of fear from the uncertain, I lit four candles without any intentions of prayer. My eyes vacantly stared at the flames that persevered on the chilly winds that battered them. They burned with vigor at the beginning, but slowly waned as time soldiered on. Cold gusts mocked and reduced their presence, but the four small icons of hope never gave up. They patiently kindled their inner strength and fought bravely not to lose their brilliance. Not letting go, flickering to the point of being extinguished -- they were doing it for my sake.
It was then and there that I found a piece of the peace of mind that I was looking for.
A few minutes past twelve, despite ensconced, I bade farewell to the four candles and thanked them for showing me a glimpse of peace I tearfully wanted to see. Heading home, I passed by the entrance only to be transfixed by the kingly image of the cross. Rays of white illuminated the surrounding darkness, just like the four modest candles that gave me a serene sense of solace. No words escaped my lips, but my heart was overflowing with words of gratitude.
With a humble step, I held onto the peace that I have obtained. My confused mind calmed with each and every stride. My eyes lit up with each new sight I saw. The slow and steady pace of my journey made me once again appreciate the littlest things that made me content before. Everything that passed reassured me that whatever may and will happen, I can always go the distance and take the long walk home.
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
Chapter Three
Fifteen minutes before midnight, I found myself sitting on the gutter across our house in anticipation for grand flashes of light blazing across the sky. The thing I liked most about new year was not new resolutions or gatherings with family or friends, but the aerial fireworks that adorned the sky with brilliant colors.
After a few minutes of expectance, the mighty noises roared their presence in the air.
Each time a small dot of light streaked skyward, I found myself looking up with an eager smile on my face. A loud boom ripping the mounting excitement, I felt my insides brim with nostalgia that another year has passed and a new one has come knocking into my life. A shower of bright and spectacular sparks afterwards, I thought what the new year has in store for me.
As I rose from my spot and entered the house, I silently told myself to walk into the sunlight and end the midnight that has given me a surrogate sense of security. Like the fireworks that briefly turned the dark amethyst sky into a flash of day, all I asked from the skies was courage to once again light up my hopes for a brighter tomorrow.
Au monde, à ses douleurs qui ne me touchent plus
To all the pains and sufferings of the world that touch me no more
Aux notes, aux solos que je n'ai pas inventés
To all those notes and songs that I haven't invented
Tous ces mots que d'autres ont fait rimer qui me tuent
To all those rhyming words that kill me in regret
Comme autant d'enfants jamais portés
Like many innocent children never born
A nos actes manqués
To all the things we never did
After a few minutes of expectance, the mighty noises roared their presence in the air.
Each time a small dot of light streaked skyward, I found myself looking up with an eager smile on my face. A loud boom ripping the mounting excitement, I felt my insides brim with nostalgia that another year has passed and a new one has come knocking into my life. A shower of bright and spectacular sparks afterwards, I thought what the new year has in store for me.
As I rose from my spot and entered the house, I silently told myself to walk into the sunlight and end the midnight that has given me a surrogate sense of security. Like the fireworks that briefly turned the dark amethyst sky into a flash of day, all I asked from the skies was courage to once again light up my hopes for a brighter tomorrow.
Au monde, à ses douleurs qui ne me touchent plus
To all the pains and sufferings of the world that touch me no more
Aux notes, aux solos que je n'ai pas inventés
To all those notes and songs that I haven't invented
Tous ces mots que d'autres ont fait rimer qui me tuent
To all those rhyming words that kill me in regret
Comme autant d'enfants jamais portés
Like many innocent children never born
A nos actes manqués
To all the things we never did
Monday, December 31, 2012
Memories
The nights have suddenly turned cold. The weather, to my surprise, was now giving my weary visage kisses that sent icy tickles playfully rippling down my spine. Albeit late, I enjoyed the wind's cold fancies as I walked to Philcoa from work. With happy thoughts keeping me warm inside, I slowed my pace to think what I have achieved for the year that has passed.
With an unknown presence, my many thoughts unsettled me. Deep inside, I knew something was wrong, but can't figure out exactly what. My eyes looked at the purple sky and the radiant circle that reined the moon. Letting out a deep and soulful sigh, I let go of what was troubling me, afraid that a bout of depression might come knocking my spirits down.
Still partly filled with intrigue, I entered a fast food chain to eat. Falling in line, I looked at the lonely table where a special person and I often used to sit. I remembered the things we talked about until the wee hours of the morning: his passions, his achievements, and his struggles. I remembered the times we just stayed silent and looked at each other. I remembered how handsome he looked each time he smiled, and how happy his laugh sounded every time he saw how much I ate. Images of the happy times we shared together came uncontrollably rushing to my exhausted mind, which made me feel only more sentimental. There were just so many things I wanted to dream and experience in life with him, and it broke my heart each time I realized that he was now gone and would never, ever come back.
It was then what I realized what was wrong: I held each and every happy moment in my past too closely in my wounded heart. Like a bandage to stop the bleeding, those memories have kept me sane and strong after all that happened. As long as I had those little memories keeping me warm in the bitter cold of my emotions, I knew I would push through. But the problem was that I have forced myself to be satisfied with those little candles of warmth embracing my heart: I am no longer seeking a more profound sense of happiness to keep me always smiling and happy. I am hesitant to experience and create new memories with people because I am terrified that everything might turn into another grave mistake. I will never find my own separate peace because the reality of things was that I have long given up hope and stopped the tireless search for it. I was living in a world of my delicately preserved memories, choosing to look away from the world filled with unique experiences of what life meant. Time has stopped in a period wherein I was the happiest -- my life has never continued forward, locked in a perpetual pause to protect my notion of what it meant to be happy and content.
After finding the guise to break away from my reverie, I took my order and slowly approached the lone table. However, seconds back to my ephemeral reality, my body turned and my feet shuffled away from the testament of the happiness I once had. I found myself sitting at a distant table, trying to find the courage to open my heart to experience new memories in search for the long lost paradise I have always yearned for.
With an unknown presence, my many thoughts unsettled me. Deep inside, I knew something was wrong, but can't figure out exactly what. My eyes looked at the purple sky and the radiant circle that reined the moon. Letting out a deep and soulful sigh, I let go of what was troubling me, afraid that a bout of depression might come knocking my spirits down.
Still partly filled with intrigue, I entered a fast food chain to eat. Falling in line, I looked at the lonely table where a special person and I often used to sit. I remembered the things we talked about until the wee hours of the morning: his passions, his achievements, and his struggles. I remembered the times we just stayed silent and looked at each other. I remembered how handsome he looked each time he smiled, and how happy his laugh sounded every time he saw how much I ate. Images of the happy times we shared together came uncontrollably rushing to my exhausted mind, which made me feel only more sentimental. There were just so many things I wanted to dream and experience in life with him, and it broke my heart each time I realized that he was now gone and would never, ever come back.
It was then what I realized what was wrong: I held each and every happy moment in my past too closely in my wounded heart. Like a bandage to stop the bleeding, those memories have kept me sane and strong after all that happened. As long as I had those little memories keeping me warm in the bitter cold of my emotions, I knew I would push through. But the problem was that I have forced myself to be satisfied with those little candles of warmth embracing my heart: I am no longer seeking a more profound sense of happiness to keep me always smiling and happy. I am hesitant to experience and create new memories with people because I am terrified that everything might turn into another grave mistake. I will never find my own separate peace because the reality of things was that I have long given up hope and stopped the tireless search for it. I was living in a world of my delicately preserved memories, choosing to look away from the world filled with unique experiences of what life meant. Time has stopped in a period wherein I was the happiest -- my life has never continued forward, locked in a perpetual pause to protect my notion of what it meant to be happy and content.
After finding the guise to break away from my reverie, I took my order and slowly approached the lone table. However, seconds back to my ephemeral reality, my body turned and my feet shuffled away from the testament of the happiness I once had. I found myself sitting at a distant table, trying to find the courage to open my heart to experience new memories in search for the long lost paradise I have always yearned for.
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