a belated coming of age

The brain has bloomed late, but at least it did.

It reminisces the days when it worked hard without necessarily understanding what it was doing.
When it was content with performing on spec, while unburdened by the ignorance of the big picture.
When doing things was for the self, maybe for the family and friends, but it ended there.
When it learned and memorized. With grit and zest! But never connected how the self can use this knowledge to achieve a bigger goal beyond the self.

The brain has forgotten most things from the past,
Perhaps because it learned them without a purpose in mind.

But now it is blooming.
It is feeling wonderfully enlightened.
When it remembers or understands, it tries not to take things as it is. Now questions are commonplace. It probes how the self can genuinely add value to the work? How can her skills contribute to society?

thoughts about the beauty of life

In the oddest moments, with no concrete nor logical reason, I just feel like crying. I am suddenly struck by the realization that the world is so beautiful and incredible and that life is a gift we should cherish.

It is strange how this feeling came to be. I was minding my nightly business, having my daily fix of Google Reader when I chanced upon a poem by John Masefield. The first line went like this,

“Night is on the downland, on the lonely moorland
on the hills where the wind does over sheep-bitten
turf…”

The string of words is nothing extra-extraordinary [well, it is poetic!], but it moved me to this… ineffable state.

The world is a big ball of emotions. The world is alive. The world is a big ball of incomprehensible, overwhelming, beautiful emotions that can swallow your soul and extract oceans from your eyes.

I must be drunk with the beauty of life.

thoughts while at a jeep stop

My watch reads 7:04pm. I stand near the intersection of Dian and Buendia as I wait for the next jeepney. The city’s hustle and bustle stir my senses. I see traffic lights, buses speeding by; hear a honk, somewhere; get a whiff of urban smoke. I become hyper-sensual, that I cannot take them all down on paper. My mind is still soaked with physics, space, time, relativity… All thanks to Stephen Hawking and the great philosophers and physicists. I AM DRUNK WITH A BOOK.

Never in my life have I felt this relaxed. The intersection of Dian and Buendia is a seemingly uncomfortable place, but standing here beats curling up in bed on a rainy Sunday morning. I don’t know why. I could shed happy tears… now. Now. Now. As I re-realize the endless possibilities of life, and of the world.

I feel like the universe is truly my home.

***

Oh, those minutes were divine. I don’t know what struck me. I could only look back and wonder…