The Builder

An elderly carpenter was ready to retire. He told his employer-contractor of his plans to leave the house building business and live a more leisurely life with his wife enjoying his extended family. He would miss the paycheck, but he needed to retire. They could get by. The contractor was sorry to see his good worker go and asked if he could build just one more house as a personal favor. The carpenter said yes, but in time it was easy to see that his heart was not in his work. He resorted to shoddy workmanship and used inferior materials. It was an unfortunate way to end his career.

When the carpenter finished his work and the builder came to inspect the house, the contractor handed the front-door key to the carpenter. "This is your house," he said, "my gift to you." What a shock! What a shame! If he had only known he was building his own house, he would have done it all so differently. Now he had to live in the home he had built none too well. So it is with us. We build our lives in a distracted way, reacting rather than acting, willing to put up less than the best. At important points we do not give the job our best effort.

Then with a shock we look at the situation we have created and find that we are now living in the house we have built. If we had realized, we would have done it differently. Think of yourself as the carpenter. Think about your house. Each day you hammer a nail, place a board, or erect a wall. Build wisely. It is the only life you will ever build. Even if you live it for only one day more, that day deserves to be lived graciously and with dignity. The plaque on the wall says, "Life is a do-it-yourself project." Who could say it more clearly? Your life today is the result of your attitudes and choices in the past. Your life tomorrow will be the result of your attitudes and the choices you make today.

 

distanceIII

Time is a funny thing.

That day at the library...was it just a dream?

I got a few pages down. I think I need a break from life. I decided to go out to dinner with a few friends, out of campus, just to breathe the different air outside of this memories-infested place.

But I can't remember anything without you.

We went to this thai food place, with dimmed lights and rather uplifting music. Sounds really Asian actually. The food was great, however, even though we ordered the typical dishes like fried rice and pad thai. But isn't that what we want to order when we go to a Thai restaurant? Why would you go there if you didn't want fried rice or pad thai. Heh. Stop arguing, people.

The sun had just set not long ago by the time we're back on campus. It's a Friday and people do stupid things on Friday; that's always a given. Never assume that the dorms will stay decent after a Friday. It's always to expect the worse so when it comes you can notify someone to clean it up. Or you can just clean it up yourself.

Pardon my analogy.

Half of my friends went out drinking, partying, all that fun stuff. I decided that I didn't want to stay alone so I asked a few people if they wanted to have a movie marathon or whatnot. I was lucky to find a few people.

There goes my night. Four movies in a row.

And yea, we did so many of these. But I can feel that I'm slowly putting away your love back into a different spot with all my secrets. Somewhere not all that obvious, somewhere like a treasure box.

****

I slept way past lunch time. I got up and decided that the weekend isn't worth the work, so I left with a few granola bars towards the library to drown myself in books.

It was actually sunnier than I imagined. The rays were delightful, as if I lifted up the curtains to my room and let sunlight seep in for the first time in so long. In two years.

 

razbliuto

Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.

We talked about friendship during the sermon. He made a point saying that there will always be a friend who challenges you as a person, a soul, and who you are. Specifically, that one person will challenge you spiritually. I suppose I do, but I think there are more than just one person.

It means that you've been strong for too long

I've always imagined my mind as like a bedroom. A typical one, with some furnitures here and there, a bed for thoughts, etc. When people come into my life, I'd pull out a chair or something for them to chill around. For some, they have their own spot already, and never really leave. Those spots slowly fill up with what they do, their habits, their presence. They become a part of it, they rest in my mind, always.

Sometimes people come in just to comment on it. They'd say that really like how you decorated your room, etc, and I'll end up giving them a spot. And...the room never seemed too small.

And then they'll just change their mind and leave the room.

But then some people stick around. They decorated my room without me knowing it. They decorated their part with things that I have. And in turn, it's my room, but then there's their room, in my room. They chose to stay.

Do you know what I mean when I say, "I don't want to be alone"?

I just closed my eyes and imagined all of you.

Are you guys still there?

I think I just....give in too easily. I sometimes hate myself for that.

 

oyasumi

-l.h-

lake watcher

To the lake watcher:

To start off, I really enjoyed your analogy, with the shores, depth of the lake, shallowness, all of it. Scripted and abstract, yet simple and true.

I don't have much time atm, and I prob shouldn't start a response, but I want to write, and if time wouldn't allow, I'll just stop half way and then edit the rest in.

Have you seen "Love Actually"? Whenever I start to have feelings for someone, this movie always comes to mind. It always does. Especially Mark, actually, from the movie. I'm not gonna spoil the movie, but if you ever get a chance, go watch it. =)

It looks like to me that you unconsciously started a guessing game with yourself. Of course, everyone does it at some point, but sometimes you have to just tell them and just to see what happens. Yes, it would be nice if it's requited, but is it always bad when it isn't? Like I said before, I think I start things out a little depressed-ish so every little thing is a pleasant surprise if it's not blatantly for the worse. I expect the worst to happen, but yet still have hope for the opposite simply because you never know, and I think that's a good enough incentive.

In my opinion, if you are certain enough, you should speak out. I'm not sure if you see things similarly, but I like to stick people around because if it's just the thread of friendship, it's worth the try and effort. If they turn you down but yet want to be friends, then stay; there's no need for you to leave. Stick around the shore, I'm pretty sure there are spots in the lake that need your caress and presence if they want you around too.

I mean, does it matter what individual is in that lake if you are giving in so much of you? I think that if they are keeping you around, then that means that they want to at least share parts of their lives with you, so you shouldn't feel like you're intruding, especially because sometimes, the walls are made to be broken down by someone who cares enough. So react accordingly.

Also, I used to think that there are moments that can be considered the perfect moments to tell things kinds of stuff. But I've learned that this is rather false. Instead, there are worse times and better times, but not a best time.

I suppose that's it for now, I need to head out. I might add more after my exam.

Peace*

distanceII

****

I looked up. Stared at my laptop. Screen's off. Checked my watch. 2:43am. Hm. How long was I asleep for?

The desk was clean. No traces of her. Her touch still lingers in the air. It's there but it's not there. My shoulder feels light. I feel cold.

I miss you.

Screw this, I'm heading back.

****

Looking at the ceiling, I know I'm supposed to be working on schoolwork, but the sound of the heaven touching the earth is soothing enough for anyone to drift into nothingness.

Everything started to feel dizzy. I drifted off, trying to feel her touch.

****

It's Saturday. Rain went away sometime overnight. I imagined the air to be fresher than it was last night, more breathable. My mind's awake, my body not. I shuffled in my bed, tossed and turned, trying not to be awake. Roommate yelled at me, it's 2pm. Yea, sleeping cycle.

I'm not even hungry. But I decided to get out of bed. Grabbed some cereal and jumped on my laptop to work. There seems to be nothing better to do than to drown myself in work, something that completely numbs me. Easier said than done, the final thought seems too far away to be fathomed. I think my roommate said something, but I have earphones on, and I don't care enough. I'm going to power through this.

I find a piece of you in every song I listen to.

distanceI

Backpack's still soaked, but I grabbed it anyways.

The other bed's empty, I suppose I'm late again.

Ran out into the rain, I believe that I could still make it. I tasted the rain, it seemed to be reminding that I should at least grab something to eat in the morning. Just like what she would have done. Just like what she would have told me.

The clouds seem to be in a odd mood today. It's quite dark but then there's a hint of sunlight somewhere in there. I wonder if I can ever be like them. She would like that.

I should have brought an umbrella. She wouldn't like this.

Running didn't make that much of a difference in the rain; it still took a good 15 mins for me to get to the first class.

I didn't want to go, but I should if I want to keep up with work and all that. Backpack got more soaked, and so did everything in there. The four corners of my notebook changed color, and I decided to go with pencil since my pens pretty much all exploded. Classes went as usual. Someone mentioned something about souls. I left for the library.

I walked with a friend with an umbrella. My breathing felt more settled--not from the running but from knowing that she'd want me to stay dry. She wouldn't want me to catch it like she did. But hey, how's the view up there? I bet it beats the hell of out mine down here.

I stuffed myself on the higher floors, in one of those less comfortable chairs, so I could concentrate on my thesis. I look out the window and saw the rain drops.

It still feels like it happened yesterday.

Why did you run out in the rain and didn't come back? I was too late. I'm sorry.

I looked at the date. It's been 2 years. Come on. Snap out of this.

I rested my head on my left arm and felt the texture of the desk. We were here two years ago, remember?

I closed my eyes. I started to doze off.

Some words became to form on the desk, stroke by stroke. They seem to be written in white-out or chalk.

"It's Hannah"

Something felt different. It's Hannah. Wait, what? Those words...is that her? I snapped out of sleepiness and unzipped the front pouch in the backpack, looking for my white-out. Damn I swear it felt like forever to find it. I wrote under her words:

I miss you, where are you?

I waited. I wanted to see her smile, to hear her laugh, just, her. Slowly, words became to form again, stroke by stroke, letter by letter. I could hear my breathing, my heart beat. All the memories hit me like rain.

"I love you"

I know you do, Hannah, please, where are you?

"Do you love me?"

I started to write. I scribbled hard on the desk. Nothing came out. I panicked. Please, not now, don't let my white-out run out. Please no. Please. I started shaking the white-out pen as hard as I could. I could feel that my tears are coming out instead of the white-out. I ended up stabbed the pen on the desk, and spots of white-out would come out.

I didn't know what to do. I ended up writing her a dotted heart.

She didn't reply.

seatbelt sign

"If you start out depressed everything's kind of a pleasant surprise"

Sadly, that struck me quite hard. But it's...so true. It is. The little pleasant surprises that you find in everything...hey heart, don't cringe...

Does it feel like being afraid of flying? Like, you feel all these rumbles and elevation changes and everything that you can only feel but have no control over, or do you know what is going on. All you know is that you are going up, that life is happening.

I'm still waiting for the seatbelt sign to disappear too.

 

oyasumi.

-l.h-

 

away

I can't even begin to imagine what was going through his mind. I mean, just...something made him breathe. He, somehow, had to breathe. There was some reason that he didn't know, even though there is really no reason to live. Fate wouldn't even allow him dead. "I had power over nothing." I can't even imagine. He was virtually dead for four years. From the world, just away, gone. He lost everything, and no reason to live. He gave up completely. But he continued breathing. He kept breathing.

And then, in a flash, by chance, he once again saw what he lost. It wasn't even not taking anything for granted, but just...the fact that all the things in the world--those he treasured and those that he did not--all slapped him in the face all at the same time. Reality became unrealistic; it became so fake because it felt like you found another reality, and that reality just changed you so much.

What does that feel like?

He kept breathing.

What does it feel to have everything you ever wanted or needed at your disposal?

The only thing he thought he had control over was how and where he dies.

All the logic told him hope is gone, all gone. For four years. It became part of him.

What do you do when something like that is proven wrong,  just with a tide? What do you do? Why that four years? Why the reunion that doesn't bring back anything? Why let the reality of loss slap him in the face again--four years ago, and then now?

Reality casts  you away and you render speechless. Neither does hope or hopelessness mean anything any longer.

-h-