Fragments of the Quiet Mind

As I strolled through the sunlit streets of our neighborhood, feeling the gentle warmth of the morning,  a familiar figure came into view—the "Kuya" with his Taho cart. His presence, though seemingly modest, represented a ri tual woven into the fabric of daily life, transforming the ordinary into something profoundly reflective.   "Manong" has been a comforting part of the neighborhood’s daily rhythm  which made this supposed morning walk into a moment of quiet reflection. The Taho he sold was more than just a treat. It was a small, sweet indulgence that combined silken tofu with rich caramel syrup, offering a fleeting but genuine comfort. The steam rising from each cup seemed to promise a moment of warmth and simplicity amidst the busy pace of life.   What struck me most was the deeper role of  "Manong"  as he engaged in this daily ritual. His smile, warm and genuine, was not just a courteous gesture but a bridge connecting him to the lives of those ...

Ito siguro ang tanging bagay na ayaw ko tuwing Disyembre. Kung di man reunion ng batchmates, reunion naman ng pamilya ni misis ang magaganap. Every 3 years nagkakaroon ng grand reunion ang kanyang mga relatives at sa tuwing ito’y mangyayari, atubili ang lahat ng tao sa pagbili ng mamahaling damit na isusuot, make up dito at doon na parang kasal ang pupuntahan. Ito ang panahong magsisiuwian mula sa iba’t ibang bansa ang mga sosyalerang titos at titas – na sa pag uwi, wala naman talagang pinag uusapan kundi kung gaano sila mas naka aangat sa inyo. Ganoon naman yata talaga, ang sistema ng pagtingin sa kagalingan ng isang tao ay nababase sa dami ng digits sa iyong payslip. Sa malas nga lang, mas madami pa ang digits ng loan ko kesa sa income, at syang dahilan kung bakit ako’y isa lamang langgam sa paningin nila. (o di kaya, pulgas) Ang sukatan ay wala sa abilidad. Oo, sabihin na nating artist ka, writer, poet, musikero, subalit ano bang kwenta nito sa kanila? Ang mahalaga ay kung mama...

What’s the worth of utterly accepting life in all its’ pains and glories through complete surrender and having a full  Dionystic attitude? Does Nietzsche's ‘ amor-fati ’ justify the absence of regret and resentment?  In the first place, how should I begin with this rambling?  The answer perhaps, is through another question about regret and a pseudo-philosophical treatment of this. Such is life – too easy to say, yet indescribable in many aspects. It’s just difficult to understand it, additionally, it’s difficult to limit life into something that just randomly happens. We are thinkers and being such, we clamor for reasons behind everything. There SHOULD be a reason behind life and there must ABSOLUTELY BE A REASON for everything that’s happening. (without thinking we're just crazy to assume that there is a magnanimous ecclesiastical destiny that governs life) Life is maybe a very simple concept but was (and is) subjected to multiple definitions. I am even wond...

In a world that never stops, where the hum of ambition drowns out the silence, there’s something radical about stillness. Something defiant about simply existing, without the weight of tasks, without the tick of a clock pressing down. We call it laziness, this refusal to move, this soft rebellion against the rush. But perhaps it’s not laziness at all. Maybe it’s the first act of courage— the courage to refuse to be consumed, the courage to be nothing and still be enough. We are told to produce, to grow, to constantly be reaching, always becoming, always striving. But what if there’s wisdom in the pause? In the slow, deliberate moments where nothing is expected and everything is allowed to breathe? Sometimes doing nothing is the only way to find everything. In the spaces where we are "doing nothing," we find pieces of ourselves that get lost in the noise. We remember what it feels like to simply be, to exist without purpose, without striving fo...

I find myself caught in a web of overthinking, a habit that seems ingrained in my logical mind. Perhaps there's really nothing to worry about, just a phantom of paranoia that I've conjured up in my head. It's a maddening cycle, where simple truths get tangled in complex thoughts. But isn't the essence of philosophy—the love of wisdom—to distill the complex into something simple? I can't help but recall *The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy* and Deep Thought's cryptic answer to the ultimate question of life, the universe, and everything: “Life is paradoxically coincidental to the ironical tyranny applicable to the unparalleled definition of reverse entropy.” I've spent years trying to unpack that phrase, memorizing it, turning it over in my mind as if the key to understanding the cosmos lay hidden within its twisted logic. But what does it really mean? Life, in all its chaotic and spontaneous nature, seems to mock our attempts to impose order and definiti...

The day creeps in before the world has fully exhaled its night, suspended in that fragile breath between darkness and light—where dawn is not a promise but a question carved from silence. To rise before the sun is to challenge inertia itself, a quiet rebellion against time’s slow erasure. Every morning is a gamble with oblivion. Here, the mundane is not mere habit but a sacred ritual—each motion a stitch in the fragile fabric of being. The boiling water hisses its impatience, caught between warmth and rupture, comfort and confrontation. It is the human condition— torn between the safety of the known and the terror of becoming. To engage with the world is to stand on the razor’s edge of vulnerability, to carry the weight of endless possibility in a single breath. Sunrise bleeds crimson and blue across the sky, a daily fresco of impermanence. Nothing holds still; even light is a restless traveler. What we see is always incomplete, an illusion crafted by shadows hiding truths just be...