Fragments of the Quiet Mind

Last night, I was having the usual neurotic fixation with the moon. I was talking to her, admiring her light and beauty… but to my dismay, the clouds covered her up and it felt like the moon decided to close her doors on me. In a couple of minutes more, the rain started to fall. I guess it’s her tears… I guess it’s her way of pouring out her sadness… It must be pretty lonely up there, shining her light to people so they may find their way out of the dark night, sending romantic moonbeams to lovers in love and soothing crushed souls with her consoling silvery luminescence. It’s like the moon have these invisible arms that hug people in despair (hug me!)… but the ironic thing is that, is there someone out there who embraces her back? Is there something that consoles her as well? Does she receive appreciation with those romantic beams that she so willingly give? And this is what I’m doing. Trying to give something back to her… I maybe an insignificant speck of dust in this vast universe...

It was 3:17 PM when I realized I wasn’t tired—I was just bored. I had no one to blame. Not the deadlines. Not the caffeine crash. Not even the algorithm. Just me. Sitting there. Staring at a blinking cursor that wasn’t judging me, but it also wasn’t applauding. It just blinked. Patiently. Indifferently. Like it knew I’d try to run. So I did what I always do. Opened another tab. Made another cup of coffee I didn’t want. Pretended I needed to check something. I scrolled. I organized files I’d never open again. I looked productive. But all I was really doing was hiding—from a silence I had no excuse not to face. I used to think the opposite of burnout was inspiration. That if I could just land on the right idea, feel that electric pull toward something meaningful, I’d be okay. I didn’t realize I was skipping the part where nothing happens. The quiet middle. The unsponsored, unposted moment where you have to sit in your own skin without any applause for existing. Burnout, at least, mak...

Ang nakakapanlumong karanasan ng isang pilosopo Sa kanyang pag iisa hawak ang sigarilyong tumutupok sa kanyang katinuan,  sa bawat hithit at buga ay sya ring bilis ng proseso ng mga ideyang di mawari kung dapat pa nga bang isipin o hayaan na lang. musika, sining, pilosopiya – Kabayo, damo, ulan at buwan. Di dapat ito pagtuunan ng pansin. mga kontradiksyong kinapapalooban ng pagdududa Mga katotohanang napapanis sa tagal ng panahong di napagtuunan ng pansin.  “Tama!” maski ang katotohan ay dapat ding maubos. Ang nakakalungkot ay ang kawalan ng lakas ng loob,  At hinayaang takot at pagdududa ang mamutawi sa iyong kamalayan.  At isa ring tulad mo ang nakapag isip ng ideyang ito- Sa pagitan ng pantas at ng kawalan,  sya ang di natitinag na sabihin ang kanyang nasasaisip  Binigyang kulay,  pinalawig ang emosyon,  at isinalahad ang kanyang saloobin.  Habang binabasa ang kanyang akda Wala ka ng magawa kundi tumunganga.  At sinasabi sa sariling, ...