I can deal with anything. Just let me know what I’m supposed to be dealing with.
But how does one deal with something that cannot be labeled as anything?
It’s cramped and messy most of the time. But it’s ours. This is home.
The human fear of being irrelevant and unimportant — most felt with the person who means so much to you.
Sometimes “actions speak louder than words” is overrated. Saying things out loud has unparalleled impact, too.
“Dad, I want to be a writer.”
“Darling, be realistic.”
It’s sad how many of us are led to believe that certain dreams are not “realistic” hence we are dissuaded from pursuing them.
I would rather use the term “feasible.”
Dreams of being a creative artist (Forgive the term. I can’t seem to think of any other. Suggestions are most welcome.) is just as real as wanting to become a banker, lawyer, doctor or IT specialist. The issue, I believe, lies in the sad reality that a career down the “artistic” road is not as profitable as the more “realistic” ones. And, for many, financial stability MUST come first for the sake of survival.
For some, a compromise between their real dreams and practicality is achieved. They have a day job and they pursue everything else during their free time. The desire, though still there and very much alive, is somewhat quenched. Lucky them. Or unlucky them, if you look at it in another way.
Then there are those, however, who remain restless. A compromise is not enough.
Schools in this country have the tendency to forget that being so science-centric. Families often overlook that, too. And I feel for the children and adults who are boxed up and regarded as disappointments/outsiders/whatever they’re called just because they do not fit into the norm. They end up underdeveloped or resentful or, worse, lost.
It is a calling that is very real and hard to put out. It will draw you and, yes, haunt you. It can be suppressed up to some extent, but killing the dream is tantamount to killing a person’s spirit.
I guess what I’m trying to point out is that do not discount others’ dreams just because it doesn’t look like yours or it’s impractical.
A dream is a dream.
I walked the streets of Ateneo. Visited the dorm. Chatted with very old friends. Prayed and basked in the glory of the Church of Gesu.
And it felt like coming home.
Finally. I have my own set. Found then in a used books sale. In mint condition and already has so much character.
When you reach that point that you no longer care if you get anything back in return. All that matters is that the person getting his life together and giving him all the help he needs to do that.
I created this account right after I finally got to put into perfect words something that I've been trying to verbalize for so long: "The best images are the ones that are impossible to capture with a camera."