Quote of the Day #11

I wish I could say you get used to people dying. I never did. I don’t want to. It tears a hole through me whenever somebody I love dies, no matter the circumstances. But I don’t want it to ‘not matter’. I don’t want it to be something that just passes. My scars are a testament to the love and the relationship that I had for and with that person. And if the scar is deep, so was the love. So be it. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are a testament that I can love deeply and live deeply and be cut, or even gouged, and that I can heal and continue to live and continue to love. And the scar tissue is stronger than the original flesh ever was. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are only ugly to people who can’t see.

As for grief, you’ll find it comes in waves. When the ship is first wrecked, you’re drowning, with wreckage all around you. Everything floating around you reminds you of the beauty and the magnificence of the ship that was, and is no more. And all you can do is float. You find some piece of the wreckage and you hang on for a while. Maybe it’s some physical thing. Maybe it’s a happy memory or a photograph. Maybe it’s a person who is also floating. For a while, all you can do is float. Stay alive.

In the beginning, the waves are 100 feet tall and crash over you without mercy. They come 10 seconds apart and don’t even give you time to catch your breath. All you can do is hang on and float. After a while, maybe weeks, maybe months, you’ll find the waves are still 100 feet tall, but they come further apart. When they come, they still crash all over you and wipe you out. But in between, you can breathe, you can function. You never know what’s going to trigger the grief. It might be a song, a picture, a street intersection, the smell of a cup of coffee. It can be just about anything… and the wave comes crashing. But in between waves, there is life.

Somewhere down the line, and it’s different for everybody, you find that the waves are only 80 feet tall. Or 50 feet tall. And while they still come, they come further apart. You can see them coming. An anniversary, a birthday, or Christmas, or landing at O’Hare. You can see it coming, for the most part, and prepare yourself. And when it washes over you, you know that somehow you will, again, come out the other side. Soaking wet, sputtering, still hanging on to some tiny piece of the wreckage, but you’ll come out.

Take it from an old guy. The waves never stop coming, and somehow you don’t really want them to. But you learn that you’ll survive them. And other waves will come. And you’ll survive them too. If you’re lucky, you’ll have lots of scars from lots of loves. And lots of shipwrecks.”

– A comment on a Reddit post about dealing with grief.

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Today I Lost a Friend

There he was, laying motionless. A body deserted. A vessel empty. His stillness did nothing but acted as a contrast to how he was before, loud and so full of life – the very definition of Kerouac’s burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars.

I imagined him breathing in that black suit, his chest moving up and down as air goes in and out of his lungs. But he just froze there – breathless, still and serene like porcelain. I thought about it, of how the end of our life is very much defined and decided by that one final breath. The two ends of the spectrum are so far from each other, yet the gap is so thin. Will you know if that breath is going to be your last? You exhale, and everything just stops.

I had so many things in my mind – the unreplied texts, unanswered calls, things I wanted to say scrambled with memories of lost times, when suddenly my lips whispered a wish: may your soul be one with the universe. My body trembled when I realised that that was it. It’s over, his whole life, just like that. How can life be so grand when death is so trivial? Or am I wrong and it is the other way around?

It was time to say goodbye, and my heart ached. It didn’t matter how much I wanted to hang on to that moment, the fact remains – he had ceased to be.

I rested my hand on the coffin where his body was, took a deep breath and bid my final farewell.

Goodbye, scarecrow. I’ll miss you most of all.

In loving memory ~ Edi Naibaho 1981 – 2016

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On Motherhood

Wow. I can’t believe it’s been almost 2 years since my last post. I’ve thought about writing too many times (and I did write, but just in my head it seems), but always failed sparing a moment to actually do it. I miss it, I really do. Then again, my writing is almost always provoked by moments of melancholy. More often than not, I would not know what to write whenever I feel happy. How twisted is it though, needing to be in an unhappy state in order to be able to do something that I love, which ultimately makes me happy?

Anyway! To say that a lot of things have happened in the past year would be an understatement. My life has pulled a 180, and although I still feel lost at times, I’m happy to say that yours truly, this foul-mouthed former party girl.. is now a mother! Yep, you better believe it!

I never thought I’d be one to say this, but motherhood is actually pretty fucking amazing – it’s nothing like anything I’ve ever experienced in my life before. And even though I am enjoying it now, it wasn’t always like this. Throughout my pregnancy, I have heard a lot of things people told me about motherhood, or parenthood in general, but I truly feel nothing can really prepare you for the actuality of it. I already knew my life would not be the same again, but I guess I didn’t really know just how much until it actually happened. Turns out it’s the whole goddamn lot. I have never felt more tired than I did in the first days (more like weeks) following the birth. I have zero clue on how to dress myself since my body had changed so much. My daily schedule shifted from whatever I wanted to whatever my baby needs whenever she needs it. Whatever I do now revolves around her. I haven’t had any drinks or a night out or a good night sleep in the longest time.. but boy is it worth it.

So even though it’s not always rainbow and unicorns (er okay I admit, it’s mostly poop and sleep deprivation), but I love being a mother. Although the daily struggles can be quite tedious if you let them, but the entirety of it all makes me feel like I’m embarking on a big adventure.

Speaking of adventures, I have just recently quit my job! (Yes, that same job I talked about in my blog nearly 7 years ago). I worked there for so long it felt like second nature. Deciding to leave was NOT easy as I was not just leaving a workplace – it was also my home, and the people there are my family. I went through with it because of a myriad of reasons, but ultimately I left because I needed change, and quitting, however hard it might have been, was the first step towards it.

So, what’s next, you ask? Well, nothing, or everything.. I mean, at this point anything can happen, right? The possibilities are endless, the world ‘s my oyster, etc. I have been thinking of starting something of my own and I do still want to rule the world, but right now, all I want is just to enjoy the (lazy) days, live in the moment, and have super long snuggles with my baby.

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Ex Nihilo

And in the darkness so silent, set off by a miraculous unfolding, out of the same nothingness that gives birth to everything..

a heart starts to beat.

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Quote of the Day #10

“He does not exist here, with me, but flesh that does not exist will never die, and promises unmade are never broken.”

IQ84, Haruki Murakami

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In Captivation: A Monologue

Does anybody else have this?
Have what?

This, a wild animal captivated inside their mind.
Most people do. Out of the ones who do, some never feed their animals and they will eventually die, and some just never let them out of captivation.

Why?
Why? Because the mind operates under a set of rules, that’s why, and if other people ever found your animal roam free, they will hunt it down to punish you.

Why?
What do you mean why?

I mean, why punish me for something that I am born with?
(Laughs) Because, human beings are a bunch of hypocrites.. and cowards. Yourself included. They will condemn those who are caught owning the animals. Acting as if they didn’t have one themselves. If it happened to someone else, you will do the same. Out of fear. Humans are also jealous creatures, and if their wild animals can’t roam free, so can’t yours. If they ever found your animal roam free, believe me, they will hunt it down, burn it, kill it, kill it some more, and humiliate you in the process, just to make you suffer.

So what do I do?
You can do one of two things: either kill it yourself, or you better make sure the thing never, ever comes out.

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F*ed Up

I just accidentally deleted an old post without copying the content. So now, that record of a particular moment I had some years ago -drinking coffee alone at the beach, while racking my brains to remember the antics I did the night before- is gone forever, transformed into a million meaningless binaries, floating away in the Unknown. Having done their purpose in existence, they are finally free. Meaningless, but free nonetheless.

The title is a tribute to that post.

Where’s Ctrl Z when you need one?

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