the end

I'm closing this blog.

I think with forgiveness...
...comes the closing of a chapter and the opening of a new one.
...comes the fragrance of the violets you've crushed underfoot.
...comes the letting go and moving on.

To you: Its been a long road. I forgive you.

and the greatest of all...

And that love of Christ
“bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things”
(1 Cor. 13:7).

Be still

Be still, my soul;
The Lord is on your side;
Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain;
Leave to your God to order and provide;
In every change he faithful will remain.

I've been having a rough time and this verse kept repeating itself in my head. Over and over and over again until I forced to go through my CD collection to find the disc. Yeah, I couldn't even remember which disc it was from till much later. Lots have been gnawing at me, at my spirit and my soul and this was timely. God speaks in such quiet, yet powerful, ways. And sometimes the shoutings all around me is far too distracting from what's really important.

God knows...

Its been a whirlwind few weeks, a non-stop halabaloo of this that and the other. I've barely been able to breathe or catch my breath even on the few off moments I get to wind down just for a bit. It's like being winded. Perpectually. Its not a nice feeling really, neither is it a healthy one. I mean, I do do my best to "get through" and so far its been snatches of sleep and foot reflex (I'd blog about that another time). And of course a good meal at a nice place with great friends is always an extra bonus.

But these past weeks have been tough on me- emotionally and physically- and a little God sent came in the mail today. As though God knew I needed a little something more than the usual "list of stuff" to keep me going given my upcoming schedule only gets worse from here on. My good friend Sha Sha sent two little books and a prettly card in the mail all the way from Brunei complete with fairy wishes and words of love and wisdom.

And I especially like what it says on the page of one of the books: Silence is perfect peace; ignore the phone just this once.

I call "Uncle"

I used to be invincible.
At least I believed I was.
I don't think so anymore.

Over the last three days I've had a combined sleep of about 12 hours and while my eyes are holding up (Clarins eye gel, I swear by it) my body is barely making it and I'm beginning to feel- dare I say it- my age. Its like being on a threadmill and going and going and going and going and going.... gone...

oh please...

I've been very discontent these days.
And angry.

It just seems that far too many things are happening and my tiny brain and megre emotional capacity cannot keep up. And I don't feel it often but sometimes I really think I need to give it all up and stop being responsible, stop feeling the intense need to be sensible, reasonable and rational. To rant and rail. To kick and scream. To make those that have been an annoyance pay dearly for their stupidity, insensitivity and selfishness. Its always something, someone, some-whatever whatever. Its annoying. Its frustrating. Its totally destabilizing.

Maybe I should name names and get them off and chest and out in the open in one fell swoop. They people will know who they are and can be forewarned about them. After all, some of them wear some sweet demeanors and masks and cloak themselves with the mantle of pity and and threats. Its tempting. Really. Particularly since I've done nothing to warrant these people doing what they did. Yeah, where these people are concerned, Rie really has the high ground- in all sense of the word.

So stop pretending you care. Stop pretending the world owes you something. Stop expecting a simple "sorry" makes any sort of difference when the actions that accompany it are incongruous. Stop expecting me to suck-it-up-and-deal. Stop expecting me to be ok. Stop expecting me to allow time to do its alledged magic and heal wounds and all that crap.

I'm not ok and I won't be for a long while. Not given my hands are half tied, you're stone-walling and perpectually trying to skirmish out of this, that or other; with some fancy mancy excuse that stinks. Not since I cannot hunt down these pain-in-the-necks and skin them for the world to see.

I can almost hear my mother's chant to forgive and forget. I've never been very good with both. For some I have an obligation to work on them, for others, I don't even have to try.

Ps: Don't call/sms/write to ask if I'm ok. I'm not.

nemo

Isn't it funny how we can never find what we're looking for?

all falls apart

"She was like the water that freezes inside a rock and breaks it apart.
It was no more her fault than it is the fault of the water when the rock shatters. "
- One Stab, Legends of the falls

tired.

Just really need some rest. Some semblance of sanity, peace and good-ole alone-time. I don't want to have to deal with excuses, stupid people or the overwhelming barrage of new projects, current works-in-progress and the million other things that need my attention. I don't want to hear empty promises that are there simply to mollify me for the while, hoping that once the episode passes I'd forget. I rarely forget. There seems to always be more important things, more pressing things, things with sacred deadlines that take precedence over me: my health, my spirit, my needs. I tired of having to be responsible and perfect. To do the adult thing and be understanding, be reasonable, be rational, to be ok with always putting people's needs ahead of mine; and still smile and grit my teeth and say its ok. I'm tired; and sick of people pretending they know what's best for me, telling me its important for me to pace myself, to take a break. I know what I want and what I need to do- being able to do it is a whole other matter.

For those of you that have been my refuge- you know who you are- thanks. God blessed me richly with friends like you.
For the rest, just leave me alone for a while ok? This girl is tired.

outside looking in

I'm sure you know the feeling. You know, that tiny creep at the back of your neck and in the space between your spine that speaks not about who you are, but where you are. Time. Space. Place. There's a scene happening; many scenes and many happenings all about and around. There's alot of activity and there you are plugging away- fulfilling your role and responsibility in the grand cosmic plan of "doing things." And you are busy; time flies and energy is expended. A lot of it actually. And you smile and grin and talk and plan and you can even laugh and make sense.

But you're not plugged in. Not really. Like you are set apart: part of whole deal, but not really part of it. Its like being caught in some strange Agatha Christie novel- unwantingly. And you wonder if there's even such a word. Is there? Maybe. Maybe not- but there is in your world.

You are on the outside. Staring in. Staring about. And yet strangely, people think you're part of the happening. Part of the daily maisma that pervades, partakes and perseveres. Lit students call that an alliteration. You call it your daily grind. You huff, you puff and you build and blow the houses up and down. You race, you rock and speed up and slow down all at the same time.

Nothing makes sense. Everything makes sense.

And you are on the outside looking in. At you.
Senselessly plugging away. Withering. Prentending.
Staring- sometimes blindly. Sometimes at You, staring from the outside.
Looking in.