Mr. Penumbra

Hey there. I haven’t written anything longer than two paragraphs for quite a while. I’m talking about maybe a month or two or somewhere along that span of time. But I haven’t stopped writing. I just preferred creating and sharing short reveries like these:

That’s the intro. What I really wanted to talk about is this book.

Have you got a copy yet? Well, I’m not here to promote. But I’d really like to say that this is an interesting piece of literature. It’s a perfect clash of tradition and modernization all clasped in 352 pages of intricate imagination. It’s about unfolding a five century old conspiracy theory under the watchful eyes of a very organized cult. It somehow resembles the movie National Treasure but the contrast and implications of the time lapse between then and now is much more vivid, it’s so overpowering that it hits you right between the eyes every single time.

I read it for the second time around in just one night (thanks to a full mug of ice-blended espresso) and the thrill and mystery of it all really just seeps through my skin. Robin Sloan (the author) is not like Agatha Christie who’ll get all your brain folds in a knot and then punch you in the face with an ending so unforeseen it’ll leave you feeling like an idiot. He’s also not like Ray Bradbury whose every line sounds like a double-edged sword adored with the most beautiful words you can ever find in the face of this planet. In short, every line delivered by Bradbury is like a quote in itself unlike Sloan’s writing which pretty much sounds like an everyday conversation.But although his words sound light, its implications are not.

I see this novel turning into a movie probably 2-3 years from now. After all, it’s in the best-seller section of the bookstore when I bought it and a lot of young people will probably be hooked to it too (at least I think so).

Now if you’re going to ask me what I consider as the moral lessons of the book. I’d tell you two things: first is that you don’t have to go looking for an adventure just to experience the thrill of unveiling something. Life itself is already a big mystery. How do you trace the seams of your existence to find out what you’re here for? How do you collate random facts, established truths and social expectations in one big quilt to corroborate that you are indeed making sense of the world? How do you spend each unit of time that only goes toward the same horrific ending to build a story that, when everything’s said and done, will bear your name in gold encrusted letters?

Get what I mean? (I hope so.)

The second thing is pretty much summed up in this quotation by another favorite author of mine, Chuck Palahniuk:

If you want immortality, you don’t go looking for the fountain of youth. You look at yourself and ask “What can I possibly create that will transcend a thousand lifetimes and still survive?” Here, you don’t go looking for the X that marks the spot in a faux map created to lure people into believing that we can live forever. What you do is make something feasible given your current resources but unparalleled enough for future innovations to not dare touch it. No matter how deep science goes, our bodies will wear off. We can extend our time but we can’t completely put a halt to it. We’re organic. It’s the way of life. We simply have to die. But it doesn’t mean that you’re not capable of making an impact in this world of ours. So make yours now.

That’s pretty much it. If your curiosity got stirred, why not get a copy of the book to know exactly what I’m talking about. Also, I’d be glad to take any book suggestions you might have. Happy reading!

Quick Thoughts

I’m here, seated at a corner of a coffee shop, watching the world go by and mulling things over inside this little head of mine. It’s interesting to look at all these people in their straight suits go in and out the doors, sharing trite and brief good mornings as they go past each other. All of them rushing to get somewhere, keeping their schedules tight. All of them prancing about to the tune of clickety-clacking heels, blaring horns and brewing coffee. And I honestly think it’s a little crazy that people spend each day in such a manic state.

I’m here, with a pen and paper in hand, writing whatnots and hopelessly wishing that the girl at the table in front would at least try and chew her food. Is that how expensive time got? That none of us can even enjoy and actually taste our meals? Every waking minute seems to be dedicated to killing ourselves early so we could get colorful pieces of printed paper in return. And it scares the hell out of me.  But in a world where success is measured by the amount of stress you can bear, you really can’t do anything about it. You just got to try and keep up and pray that you don’t lose your mind before you’re 40.

Seriously, pray.

I Got Tips

Let me veer away from all the emotions that entangle our human lives and share with you something that I hope both students and professionals will find useful. I’m no expert or anything but a lot of people have been telling me that I got a knack for this so here I am, hoping to give away a little bit of food for thought. 

I’m currently taking my master’s degree and I know I’m young but I don’t see any reason why anyone should put off professional and academic growth for a later time. If you have the chance now, grab it. Trust me, you’ll thank yourself for it once you’re done. Having said this, the thing that I always encounter in grad school are professors complaining about how students present their report. Nowadays, we use MS Powerpoint to make things easier and students always fall into the tendency of just copying and pasting everything on the slides and then conducting a reading session at the time of reporting, which should not be the case. Despite the constant reminders of professors on how to appropriately utilize MS Powerpoint as an effective method of imparting knowledge, students never seem to pay any mind. Reporting becomes one reading session after another, which in grad school, is simply unacceptable. You’re supposed to be moving forward academically, not stuck within the confines of reading out loud.

My number one tip to be an effective presenter/reporter in class is to remember everything that you hate seeing with other reporters, so you’ll know what you should not do. If you fall asleep when someone just reads their report, don’t do it. If you find slides crowded with words confusing, don’t do it. Everything you hate, don’t do it. 

Top two tip of mine that you should always remember is to let go of the connotation that you are dependent on your powerpoint presentation. You are not. And you shouldn’t be. It’s the other way around, your powerpoint presentation should depend on you for it to make sense. Create your slides in such a way that without you explaining it, they would just be a couple of words and pictures on a slide. Nothing more.

Top three tip is to know your assigned topic by heart. Read it once, read it twice, read it five times. Read it until the words become engraved in your head. Read it until you arrive at your own interpretation of the concepts. Read it until you find it simple. Only then will you realize that you no longer have the need to copy and paste all the words to your slides because they can just come from you instead.

Top four tip is to embrace confidence. If you know for yourself you’re not confident at all, then just be smart enough not to let it show. Practice on delivering your presentation beforehand. Practice talking until your voice stops quivering and try holding something like a pen (even if you’re never going to use it) just to keep your hands from shaking, and also for you to have something to focus all your nervous energy on. 

Top five tip is to know where your professor have set his/her standards, pay attention on what they want to hear from you so you’ll know what to deliver. Work hard to meet their standards not because you want to please them but because you owe yourself the chance of stepping up and giving it your best shot. Use their ridiculously hifalutin demands to break your old habits and catalyze your betterment. 

Now, just to top it all off, let me give you quick tips on how to make your powerpoint presentation better.

This slide is from my presentation earlier.

1. Use as less words as possible. 60% of what people learn is through vision so use that to your advantage. I’ve read articles suggesting that you should keep your lines at about 6-7 per slide but I personally prefer to just keep it at 4 sentences or less per slide then just use pictures for the rest.

2. Make sure that you always put the title of what you’re discussing on your slides (in my case, that is “Physiology of Wound Healing) so your audience won’t get lost, even if they just stepped in because they’re late or they just came back from the comfort room, they’d be able to immediately catch up on what you’re talking about. 

3. Notice the upper right corner of my slide? Those are my sources. In grad school, it’s a requirement to put them in your presentation so your professor can check whether or not the information you’re imparting is credible. In undergrad, I don’t think it’s as important yet but still if you decide on citing your sources, I suggest you use the APA format.

4. Keep the words on your slide readable, make sure they don’t clash with the pictures. Use fonts that are appropriate and easy to read. Also, don’t use colors that will distract the audience from your discussion.

5. Keep your presentation neat, organized and professional. Don’t let it look like something that’s just been put together out of the blue (even if you just finished it the night before). 

So there you go. That’s all I have for now. I hope it helped.

Scars are Beautiful

And there I was, staring at the ceiling in the middle of the day, counting the minutes as they pass by. Every second stretched on for miles and I found myself drowning in my own, self-orchestrated eternity. This kind of thing usually happens in the middle of the night when you’re up and thinking about somebody but it hit me way earlier than it should. It hit me while the sun was at its highest and people were supposed to do nothing but complain about the heat and the sweat dripping off their face and back. But not me. I laid there, on my bed, motionless, almost breathless but with my thoughts running a million miles per second and my heart pumping way more than it should.

I laid so still that my emotions swallowed me whole. I didn’t fight, I didn’t resist. I let the pain strike me where it wanted to. I let the past constrict me with its grip-like vice. But it wasn’t a sign of surrender nor was it a sign of giving up. It was more like I wanted to feel everything instead of keeping it suppressed. It was like wanting to drown so I’ll be forced to swim. It’s like wanting to remember the pain so I’ll know never to go back to the way I was. 

A song kept playing in my head—“Oh, you’re a silly girl…” and I am a silly girl. Silly but not foolish. Have I not made it this far in life? All the tears and and pain and unfortunate twists of life that I was never sure if they were meant to be bad jokes or just simply ugly phases you have to go through, embraced and molded me. The more I think about it, the more I found it beautiful. How a silly little girl can slowly turn into a woman of flaming self-respect all because of those sleepless nights crying over things that broke her, those times that she had to pick herself up everyday just to show everybody she’ll be okay, all those tireless days that she was let down repeatedly despite of her efforts to hold things together. It’s those things that will slowly forge strength in your heart.

Men collect their scars physically as a sign of manhood. Women, on the other hand, collect scars emotionally. They are oh so fragile that words and phrases delivered in haste would leave bleeding wounds unseen by many. I’ve had lots of wounds, I even had a part of my heart taken out of me but I stitched it up. Everything can be mended through time so just let the days pass by. You’ll be surprised that at some point, that dark corner where your soul has been would feel like a hundred years away and would only sound like a terrible part of an old fairy tale you once read.

And when the memories come knocking one day, like what happened to me today, I suggest you let it in. Immerse yourself in its arms but don’t dwell in it. Let that visit remind you of how far you’ve come and how much you’ve changed for the better. Let it rekindle the amazing journey you’ve had to be the woman you are today. Let it show you the petals and thorns you’ve earned by blooming into an exquisite rose. Embrace your scars and let them make you beautiful. 

Can I…? Would you?

Type. Backspace. Type. Backspace. Type. Backspace. Type.

Always caught in between writing it down and keeping it to the farthest corners of myself.

Can I ask you to listen? And if I do ask you, would you? I feel like I’ve wasted and gained so much time. I feel like I’ve constantly done nothing and everything each passing day. I feel like the greatest ironies and contradictions of life have run me down. It’s like standing at a crossroad feeling depressed and thankful at the same time. Does everybody my age feel this way? Maybe they do. Maybe they don’t. Maybe I’m alone in this. Maybe I’m not.

Can I ask you to see things my way? And if I do, would you? I see millions of possibilities conspiring into one moment. It scares me and it fascinates me. Imagine hitting an imaginary brick wall. The brick wall symbolizes that you’ve achieved something and is now ready to move forward but instead of smiling, you just stand there asking yourself, now what? It’s not that you don’t know where to go, you do. It’s not that you don’t know how to get there, you do. It’s just that you’re scared of what comes next.

Can I ask you to take me away? And if I do ask you, would you? We can talk about anything, do anything, be anything. We can take a bus or just drive. We can joke about life as if we’re not in it. We can act as if time is on our side. People say to live a life that you don’t constantly want to run away from. But is there such a life? I think people invented vacations, getaways and holidays because none of us were meant to stay in one place doing one thing for too long. We’ve got the means so why not go somewhere we’ve never been and make memories that’ll fill our hearts?

Can I ask you to pursue happiness with me? And if I do ask you, would you? I haven’t smiled today. I haven’t laughed. I haven’t felt anything. It’s like there’s this tremendous distance between me and everything real. I feel like I’m floating, searching for something to grab on to so I can pull myself down and start to feel something again. I want to laugh the way I did for the past days. But I just feel like a bottle that’s just been sealed. I feel like I’ve been given an ultimatum until further notice and everything I planned just vanished in front of me. 

Can I keep on asking? And if I do, would you keep on answering? I feel like crying but that’s nothing new. I feel like punching something but I don’t want to break anything. I feel like I’m going to be staring at the brick wall in front of me for a long while and I hate waiting for realizations to hit me in the head. I feel like everything stopped despite seeing everything still moving and the earth still rotating on its axis. I wonder what happens when someone, like me, just stops. Does the God of Time look down on me and ask “What the hell’s the matter with this girl?” Or does he say “Good thinking dear one. Sometimes stopping opens up the right way.”

Cheers!

It took me 22 years to realize that there are only two types of people in the world—those who keep the world happy and those who keep the world going. 

Those who keep the world happy are the ones who have the talent and passion to create. They’re writers, painters, musicians, movie makers—all are slaves to inspiration and all are artists in their own right. They keep the world happy in what way? By coming up with piece after piece of creativity that may not be necessary for living but is food for the soul. They keep the unseen part of humanity fed and fulfilled. 

Those who keep the world going are the ones who have the skills to keep civilization on its feet. They’re politicians, doctors, nurses, teachers, engineers—all are slaves to knowledge and all are professionals in their respective fields. They keep the world going in what way? By maintaining everything that humanity established as important—technology, industry, health, government. They reinforce human needs to its finest. 

Most people end up doing what they were meant to do and find themselves happy doing it. Some encounter resistance and find themselves stuck in the middle of life’s highway. Guess I’m part of the latter. I know that I should be one of those people working to keep the world going but my hands are focused on creating and my heart is just head over heels with writing. 

I can be good at any job if I wanted to just so people wouldn’t say that I’m wasting “my brains” into something so simple as writing. But when I get compliments from other people about how I should already be writing a book or receiving an award for something I wrote, I just feel like going against the flow and pursuing writing like a reckless youth in pursuit of happiness at whatever cost. But I guess I’m not as brave as I’d like to be.

So let me raise a glass up for all the things your heart dictates but your mind deem impossible, for all the passion you put into making the world see something new instead of just keeping it going, for all my fellow literary souls out there who sleeps with a pen in their hand every single night trying to make other people see how beautiful words are—salut!

In a Nutshell

I haven’t written anything in a long while. It’s been so long that when I logged on to my wordpress account, I was surprised by how much it changed. Then I asked myself, “what have I been doing that’s keeping me away from writing?” After that specific question sprung into my mind, a million trains of thought exploded simultaneously.

I’ve been keeping myself occupied—distracted so to speak. I delved in more to photography and art and half-pretended I was busy at school. Well, grad school did get a little bit harder but I know truthfully that I’ve been in tougher situations, academically speaking. 

So why have I stayed away from writing? Well, it’s because of the past. Back then, writing used to be my avenue to be heard. It became the only way for me to feel like I do exist. It was hard times—very hard times. Tons of emotional struggles tugging at every end of my heart, one painful scenario after another, never seeing where all the tears will finally end. 

Then I changed. I wiped the tears from my eyes and stopped begging other people for the things I deserve. I stopped looking at myself through the eyes of people who didn’t know my worth. I stopped feeling so damn sorry for myself. Ultimately, I just stopped letting other people kill the best parts of me. I fought for myself, worked my way through all the struggles and came out stronger. 

I took a break from writing just as I started changing myself. And now I’m coming back to literature’s arms a better person.

The scars are there and they will always be there. And the past will always linger, it will always find a way to taunt me but the thing is, I’m not scared anymore. I got myself back and I’m never letting go. 

So this post is to my past that made me stronger, to my present that keeps on getting better and to my future whom I have the utmost faith in. May the chaos and beauty of life turn us all into who we should be. 

The Fault In Our Stars

Though I will never read the book and though I may not watch the movie, I’d just like to say, based on the popularity of this novel that indeed, people love tragedy.

It’s somewhat ironic that all of us look for happiness but what people don’t realize is that we don’t just look for happiness plain and simple. We are all looking for a certain shade of joy and that is the happiness, no matter how brief, that we get out of a tragedy. 

People love good things but they love tragedy more. Why? Because the sorrow, the pain, the depression that comes with tragedy makes us feel more alive. So yes, all of us are emotional masochists in one way or another. 

Though none of us will say it out loud and though none of us may even realize it, but we yearn for pain. Or specifically, we yearn for the brief happiness that comes with the pain.

Confused? Trust me, I am a bit confused myself. But you can’t deny that I’m somewhat making sense.

Based on the photos of the movie that I saw, the girl wears a nasal cannula all the time which would tell anybody that her lungs are not working properly. And out of all the lung diseases out there, my guess would be cancer. Either it’s been lung cancer from the start or it began as a different type of cancer and later, just spread to her lungs. (No, I’m not a doctor. Yes, I’m a nurse.)

The guy seems well and healthy but then I saw this one photo of them sort of being in a group. My thought was it couldn’t be a school organization because if you already need support for breathing then any sort of school activity will definitely exhaust you. Which then lead me to my second assumption that it was a cancer support group. So if the guy was there, it’s either he just happened to be there (some sort of accident or twist of fate) or he’s also a cancer patient that was just on remission that’s why he looked well.

Based on those two assumptions, the ending is pretty much predictable. I have two endings in mind. First, if the guy just happened to bump into the girl at a cancer support group then that means that the girl dies in the end. Second, if the guy is a cancer patient in remission, then I bet that for some reason his cancer will go back and he’ll die first. I thought of the second one because if you’re the author, you would want to take the world by surprise. All along you’ve lead them to think that it was the girl who was really sick but then you find a way to make the plot more dramatic by throwing a curveball and that curveball is the guy dying first. 

Either way, the plot is simply this: they fall for each other, have an amazing love story and then their love meets a tragic end by way of death. (Please, correct me if I’m wrong.) I’m not belittling the essence of the story. All I’m saying is that this is exactly what I’m talking about. People love tragedy.

Everybody knows that someone will die in the end. That is the tragedy. But people don’t buy books and go to movie theaters yearning for tragedy. What they yearn for is that moment of bliss, that brief happiness that will transpire from the moment the characters meet up to the time the characters last saw each other. The tearjerker moments, the kiss, the exchange of sweet nothings, the effort that goes into loving someone beyond all odds, that is what people are after.

So indeed, people love tragedy. Or should I say, people love the happiness that goes with tragedy. 

P.S.
Last assumption, I’m guessing that “the FAULT in our stars” is that destiny brought two people together just to end it abruptly by one of them leaving so soon. But then as people say, even in death, love is never over.

I’m Not Original

The question here is, are you original? Or are any of us ENTIRELY ORIGINAL? Is everything you say and do PERFECTLY YOUR OWN? No outside influence whatsoever? I think not. 

You can only be original in one or more aspects of your life but NOT the whole. Usually, this/these aspect(s) of your life is/are the talent(s) you were born with. The things you can do with your eyes closed. The things that you don’t have to think about because they just simply come to you. For me, that is writing.  

How about the other aspects or should I say areas, that you want to explore but are not innate to you. That, my friend, is where you need some help. That is where you need other people to influence you, to inspire you, to teach you until such time that you’re good enough to come up with something you can call your own.

Let me use some of the aspects I’ve explored as an example.

Fashion
Me along with a lot of people are not original with the way we dress. Admit it, please. We look through magazines, we watch television, we stalk our fashion icons (may they be actors/actresses, rock stars, supermodels, etc.), we browse the internet for the next look that we think we can pull off. We need their influence for us to figure out how we can come up with a dress code that will fully express who we are. 

Photography
Me and other budding photographers out there are not entirely original with our works. Why? Because we don’t know the craft yet. What we do is ask for advice, for techniques, for guidance from those who are experts in the field. We imitate shots so we’ll know how their done. We poke our noses in someone else’s camera settings so we’ll know how to tweak our cameras to our advantage. After everything’s learned, that’s when we come up with a portfolio that’s entirely our own. 

Art
Me and other frustrated artists out there are not original with what we put on paper. Because those who doesn’t have the natural inclination to art would really find it hard to find a comfortable spot to create original works. If we love art but art is not innate to us, what we’ll do is borrow ideas from artists. We’ll use what we see then add what we think we know about art and come up with something that’s half ours and half theirs. 

You see, borrowing ideas doesn’t mean you’re automatically a copycat. Let me translate it in literature. If you replicate someone’s work exactly as it is, that’s plagiarism. But if you borrow the idea and put it in your own words, that’s paraphrasing. Just because you were influenced by someone else’s concept doesn’t mean that you’re a good for nothing person. It simply means that you’re human. And if you’re wise enough to tweak and express that concept from your own perspective then although you may not be entirely original, at least we know for sure that you’re creative. 

For my part, what sucks really is whenever I try out something new, most of the people I know would applaud me for a good result. But the people who actually matter to me will always find holes. I studied a new technique in photography and when I finally pulled off a good shot, what I would hear is “That’s it?? Even ordinary people can take that shot.” Or when I started painting, I would hear “You just did that because you saw it somewhere. You’re not original.” Well, hell yeah, I saw it somewhere. I got eyes, damn it. But the fact that I put my heart and soul into it and pulled it off requires just a little bit of recognition, don’t you think?

Sometimes, when we venture out into something new, all we need is encouragement and the assurance that even if we fall flat on our asses for trying, someone’s got our back. 

Remember that even if we can never be entirely original, we can always be different. We just have to add a part of ourselves in everything we do so as to leave a different mark in this immense fabric that we call life. 

Let me close by quoting Chuck Palahniuk, “Nothing of me is original. I am the combined effort of everyone I’ve ever known.”

A Letter to Destiny

Dear Destiny, 

Or maybe, you’re really called fate or the crazy wheel of life or the literature that fortune tellers seem to always read from my palm or with a deck of cards. I may not know what your name is but I have to thank you, BIG TIME.

I have to thank you for the big big smiles on my face for the past few weeks. For the happiness that now mends my heart. Not everything has fallen into place yet, but you know, in life, it never will be a finished puzzle. For as long as you live, the pieces will continually move, sometimes for the better, other times for the worse. And that is something I always remind myself of. 

Nothing and nobody is perfect. I guess that’s the beauty of life. You’ll make mistakes and have shortcomings. And sometimes, sorry will never be enough. But you have to understand the fact that if you can inflict pain on someone, you can also help in easing it. If you can stab someone in the heart with your actions then you can also help in mending the wound. Nothing can be reversed once done, but everything can be made better. 

Destiny (if that is your name), thank you for the love that I have now. After being trapped in hurt and pain for so long, you made me see that tears do run dry. After writing piece after piece about my heart breaking, you’ve given me inspiration in the oddest of ways to make me write about the good things I’m missing out on. After all the nights that I woke up with nothing but depression at heart, you made me believe that sweet dreams isn’t just for going to sleep but also for living it each day.

Thank you for the changes that all turned out for the better. Thank you for the new found confidence. There were times when I thought I wasn’t good enough. There were instances that I pitied myself for my weaknesses. But now I know that my limitations do not and will never define me. I am more than my weaknesses, I am more than the boundaries people have set on me.

Thank you for the painful experiences. I may have cried most of the time because of it but it pushed me to find myself. I may still have issues bearing down on my shoulders because of what I’ve been through but I’ll never lose hope for better days. I’ll work on myself, I’ll work on being a better me despite the weight of my past and the sight of a limitless future. 

Thank you for everything. I may still not be whole yet and frankly, I don’t think I’ll ever go back to being who I once was. But I think that’s okay. Because, as I’ve read somewhere before, the mind, once stretched by an idea, emotion or experience, never goes back to its original dimensions. I’m proud of who I am now. After all, I worked hard for this tough attitude of mine. And I’m not going to give it up just to fall back in the same place I struggled to get out of.

Thank you for the love. Thank you for the happiness. Thank you for the change.

Sincerely,
Beauesprit

 

P.S.
People say that we make our own destinies but I think I’d be a hypocrite if I won’t admit that there are forces at work in this world that are bigger than us. People call it different names but I’m not going to elaborate on that. I just want to give credit where credit is due. Because although I’m the one who made the decisions that lead me to where I am now, the way things turned out isn’t dependent on my actions alone. Each of our lives is but a ripple in a big pond, the extent to which our ripple flow and interact with others is something that we don’t entirely hold in our hands.