Fragments of the Quiet Mind

As I ran in this cold early morning with the wind flowing through my hair, the mist and the sweat mixing together in a health hazardous unity (pneumonia). The sun isn’t up yet and I can still see the dark sky filled with stars, I am left dumbfounded with a realization as I was staring at the universe above me. My dreams are so ‘ostentatious’ and ‘grand’, or so I thought but those dreams mean everything to me… perhaps, I look at things based on my subjective egocentric perspective and that it’s actually not me staring at the universe, but the universe enveloping my consciousness, pulling me closer to it’s majestic grandeur and vast oceanic mystery. It’s more logical to say that the universe is the one staring at me. I am just a tiny and insignificant creature whose dreams aren't as magnificent as I thought they were. I mean, I don’t matter to the universe, who am I to be noticed by it? I feel like an ant… struggling to be noticed, struggling to exist. or worse, i am an ...

TBR 2014 is perhaps the most memorable run I’ve had for some reasons:  First, it was my first official full marathon,  secondly, it’s practically chasing your DREAMS  and lastly, it was run specifically summarizing my life at that point.  Six months before the big race, my left foot started playing a painful tune. So, I thought, "Hey, let's have a doctor jam session!" Turns out, Doc told me to rest and quit my long-distance running because my ankle was hosting a uric acid party. Apparently, running would be like adding an extra beat to the pain playlist. Plus, I was given some dietary restrictions, like watching what I eat. Did I listen? Nah! I turned a deaf ear and went on to conquer not one, but two half marathons. And guess what? The day after those "fun"-runs, I transformed into a limping maestro. Every step felt like a cruel punishment. But you know what? I'm just a stubborn virtuoso who finds solace in the symphony of agony. On November 24, 2013, lif...

To suddenly come to the realization that I bring nothing but pain and hatred... Is this because of the belief that  happiness is possible in a seemingly futile case?  In this futile attempt in trying to reach for dreams, we seldom think of consequences, and technically, we end up killing people close to us. I guess people have  to weed out all remaining hope in this utterly meaningless condition. In as much as this kills us, staying away is the most sane option. It’s as if the entirety of our situation where people once believed in the achievement of goals and dreams is now turning into a realistic nightmare where they are weighed down by their very definition of universal concepts regarding justice, love, hope, bliss and others – but the saddest thing is, people don’t actually agree with an objective perspective of how things are. Most often than not,  concepts are defined through people's pompous and subjective understanding of everything. What's worse is the stu...

In the depths of darkness, he feels alone Missing his purpose, his heart a stone In the night sky, he searches for a sign Sorrow weighs heavy, like a burden divine Spiraling down, lost in his own abyss Yearning for a glimmer of hope, a moment of bliss Overwhelmed by the weight of his despair Unsure if anyone truly cares Loneliness consumes him, a constant ache Numbness sets in, his emotions fake Arms stretched out, he calls out in the dark Restless heart seeking a spark Kneeling down, he whispers to the moon Intertwining fingers, he feels less marooned Nurtured by the lunar light, he begins to see Dawn breaking forth, the start of a jubilee Reborn in hope, he stands once more Eyes shining with a new fervor newly strengthened, he faces the night Driven by the knowledge that all will be right.

Night time literally brings me ominous and vivid reflections on how my day was spent. At times, it relaxes me especially when the day went my way (I have a very simple definition of happiness really... to stop thinking. That’s it…)but in most moments, my days feel like crap.  It sucks when you wake up in the morning and you start feeling that familiar asphyxiating feeling… that feeling of being so darn damned and yet, you don’t know the reason why you feel such. (or perhaps you know why, but you just can’t go around the wall anymore.) I am being sucked in by a void, where I remain static, unable to move and can’t fudging do anything ‘right’. I mean, that instance when you are so disoriented both in thoughts and actions and you just find yourself staring at blank space. It's fudge... I am being weighed down by an invisible force – I am held captive by my own demons. I am trying to fight a losing battle and the path I want to go to dims and disappears right before my eyes.  I...

Nakaka… ...Panibago ...Lito ...bato… Palagi na lang bang ganito? Mga alaalang pilit bumabalik Tulad ng Tubig Umaagos ng tahimik Dumadaloy Tumatahak Pumapatak. Mga oras, araw, buwan binalot ng karimlan Ilaw sa kadiliman Muli bang masasaksihan? Panahong tinikman sikretong kasiyahan Ikaw at ako Tila Dugong dumadaloy Nagbibigay... ng buhay... ng Pag-asa... ng Sakit... Sa isat isa Mga araw at gabing naglalakad masayang magkasama may halong pangamba Nalulunod sa salita At mga pangakong Itinali sa mga tala. Ngayon Kailangang lunukin ang pagdurusa Nag iisa Hapdi ng Alaala Wasak na pusong di na maaayos pa. Pag gising sa umaga, Nangangamba Ako kaya'y Naaalala mo pa?

There is a silence in us all—a kind of sacred quiet that hums beneath the noise of daily life. It is not the absence of sound, but the presence of something deeper, something unspeakable. It is the echo of forgotten truths, the unvoiced yearning that resides within the chambers of the soul.  Silence, in its truest form, is not mere emptiness. It is a broken cathedral, its walls shattered by echoes we cannot hear, yet we feel them in the stillness. In the rush of existence, we avoid silence. It is uncomfortable, confrontational. But perhaps we avoid it because it is a reminder of our own fragility—the cracking of the walls we have built around ourselves, the peeling away of all that we think we are.  The noise of the world keeps us from facing this silence, this sacred destruction. We are afraid that in its presence, we may hear things that shatter our sense of control. Yet, silence is not a void; it is a place where something profound resides. It is the space between words, ...

There are truths that settle within you like stones, heavy and unmoving, their presence undeniable. You can feel their weight in your chest, pressing in, yet words escape them, as if the language itself is too fragile to bear their mass. These truths are not for the tongue—they are for the body, for the silent understanding that reverberates through the core of your being. To speak them is to risk collapse, to unearth a burden that your voice cannot carry. It is why, in moments of profound realization, we find ourselves mute, lost in the space between thought and utterance, where the truth lingers, unspoken but alive. I often think of the body as a vessel of unspoken knowledge, a landscape that holds within it the imprints of all that cannot be voiced. We move through the world, unaware that each step, each gesture, is a manifestation of the truths we carry but cannot speak.  In every sigh, in every clenched fist, there are words that have no home in language, truths that live in ...