About the same time, six years ago today, I have watched my father let go of his last breath after five days in the intensive care unit -- 4 days of which he spent lying there comatose.
It was his third stroke. The first was very mild, hardly a stroke as I call it. But like all people who have hypertension and diabetes, each stroke episode gets worse each time.
The second stroke left him bedridden, speech slurry, both feet numb for days. Of course by that time he knew he had to be more careful. But caution was not in my father's vocabulary. He was too stubborn and too smart for his own good. Continue reading →
For 27 years I've been trying to believe and confide in
Different people I've found.
Some of them got closer than others
Some wouldn't even bother and then you came around
I didn't really know what to call you, you didn't know me at all
But I was happy to explain.
I never really knew how to move you
So I tried to intrude through the little holes in your veins
And I saw you
But that's not an invitation
That's all I get
If this is communication
I disconnect
I've seen you, I know you
But I don't know
How to connect, so I disconnect
You always seem to know where to find me and I'm still here behind you
In the corner of your eye.
I'll never really learn how to love you
But I know that I love you through the hole in the sky.
Where I see you
And that's not an invitation
That's all I get
If this is communication
I disconnect
I've seen you, I know you
But I don't know
How to connect, so I disconnect
Well this is an invitation
It's not a threat
If you want communication
That's what you get
I'm talking and talking
But I don't know
How to connect
And I hold a record for being patient
With your kind of hesitation
Oh I need you, you want me
But I don't know how to connect
Hmmm. I think we can both agree -- yes, you and me -- that this blog has been out of the limelight for far too long (and by limelight, I don't mean the fabulous kind, blame it on my recent writing vacation, I used the word for lack of a better term).
Anyway, for all those visiting this puny space of mine in the virtual world, and who does so every so often, let me begin by saying that although I am not really sorry, (because that is not the proper term -- the word I'm looking for, the term that aptly describes my feelings towards this issue, my dear, escapes me), I am nonetheless, almost always heartbroken. Maybe I will remember the exact term after a paragraph or two, who knows? God knows how much I need your patience right now because I have run out of it for myself. I guess what I'm trying to say is that a writing/blogging vacation isn't really good for me or for anyone else for that matter. Even for those people who stumble across my posts once in a while, either by choice or by divine intervention. And each and every time I see the same IP address arriving on my page on a different time, different day, my heart stops and bleeds -- because the truth is, I never really wanted to stop writing, regardless if nobody but myself gets to read what i write. You see, what many people (bloggers) have discovered (whether they admit it or not) is that there is joy enough in publishing content for all the world to see (and read). Nevermind the prospect of fame or appreciation -- those are just icing on the cake. The real joy of blogging is the act itself -- sitting in front of a pc, with nothing but your thoughts running through your fingers, pressing each letter on the keyboard -- that poor thing trying to absorb whatever emotion comes with each press..
You start with practically nothing -- from scratch. And after the whole affair is through, which lasts variably from minutes to hours to days, the "publish" button eagerly waiting for your click seems to bat its eyelashes at you, teasing you, taunting at you, as if to shout "click me if you dare!" and the blogger spirit in you, the writer heart that you wear ever so proudly but traceless of arrogance, finally gives in -- click you I will! Click you I dare!
Posts are made up of paragraphs. Paragraphs of sentences. Sentences of words. Words of thoughts. Thoughts of sparks -- images conjured up by one's valiant heart. There is apprehension, yes. But will I let it get me down? No. Will it stop me from writing? No.
The blogger of today is not so different from the prolific writers of the past, if only for the fact that once they start writing, they no longer belong to themselves, but to those who "read" them.
So yes, this blogger is yours. Apprehensively, yes. But yours just the same.
Ah yes, that "term" I was looking for? It got away. :)
I won't be writing much on this blog for quite some time for personal reasons. However, I will still write posts once in a while but I won't engage you in thoughtful monologues as before (that means I wouldn't be writing much original content for a time). I hope I don't get to disappoint the few people who visit here (that's people like you) for whatever reason. I write crappy articles anyway so I'm sure my posts would hardly be missed.
I would like to stress that this "partial" blogging hiatus doesn't have anything to do with the Lenten Season or the fact that my birthday's coming up. It's just a natural course that people (and blogs) go through. Don't ask me why because there's no way I'd tell you.
The following song is "And I Love You So" by Don McLean -- whose voice I will always love and whose songwriting skills I will always worship (now, don't be jealous Rod Stewart -- you know you aren't my first love). Continue reading →
This site is offsetting all electricity use with wind-generated Renewable Energy Certificates which prevent the release of 2,660 metric tons of carbon dioxide from entering the atmosphere each year.That’s equivalent to planting nearly 2,390 acres of trees, or removing 510 cars from the road. Reinforcing my commitment to combating climate change.
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