thoughts about nirvana 2

A Long Pause, and then this.

Outside Shang. We are only two in this balcony. Me and another guy. The shadows of the potted palm trees shroud us from the 2pm sun.

Can I attain nirvana under the shade of the palm plant, like how Buddha attained it under the Bodhi Tree?

And now we are three.

To live in the present, and not mind time.
To detach self from the past and future, to be void of worries, and to be cleansed of memories.
To focus on the city sounds. Skidding of cars. Under the slightly overcast sky.
To feel the cigarette against my dry lips, and the smooth sliding of pen against paper.
To be in the present, and the present alone.
And to hear the rustling of the finger-like leaves, as reply.
To be hyperconscious.
To pause…
To revel in stillness of body and thought.
To feel alive.

How should we live life? So bodies are conceived into this world of expectations and obligations. The things we do, we do partly because the world expects us to. Even the most mundane tasks are according to norms: eat during breakfast, lunch and dinner. Sleep at night. Be active in the morning.

The janitor who is in the balcony with me is arranging the chairs and cleaning up cigarette butts, because it is part of his job. Why do his job? To get paid. Because he needs money to live.

In a sense, are we not puppets of society? A man-made society driven by an invisible hand?

Four words: inertia to status quo.


a confession

July 14, 2010, early evening.
Inside the jeep going to UP.

A documentation-worthy incident happened earlier in MRT:
After experiencing a grueling hour of MRT stress, I was finally offered an empty seat. I wasn’t dead tired nor on the verge of fainting or anything medically serious that would require me to sit by all means. But because (1) an empty seat presented itself in front of me, and (2) the population within radius knew the seat is mine… I took it, like a trip to jerusalem champ.

Then an old lady came by. She stood near me.
I did not give my seat to her.

I overthought. The moment of hesitation stretched and spanned until the train got to Quezon Avenue. I did not budge, no one did. Everyone was too comfortable in their seats and thoughts. But there’s no use rationalizing, as the population within radius knew that I should have given my seat because I was nearest to her.


It was the epitome of selfishness.
I felt disgusted with myself… I FEEL disgusted with myself.
Humanity’s selfishness is disgusting.

Only after the incident did I realize the gravity of what I did. At least I still realized…? But oh god that moment still haunts me until now that I’m encoding this for the blog post.

I refuse to cry over spilled milk.

Moving forward, I vow to do good deeds consciously with no question nor hesitation. Because I have the strength and the capability to do good, nothing more.