Hi, thirty-year old self.
I don’t know what to say really, I don’t even know why I decided to write you this letter. This is the younger you writing, the you who’s still struggling on how to do this adulthood bullcrap and whatnot, the you who’s still not afraid to take damned risks every single day, the you who’s still trying to be better physically, mentally, romantically, spiritually. The one who’s still trying to be somebody in this big city. You who’s still currently missing the family; Mama, Pops, brothers. You who’s still has trust issues and commitment issues and relationship issues, more issues than Runners magazine. Still afraid to say those sappy three words, but slowly, very slowly letting go of the crazy past. You who’s now pursuing a lady, a very special lady, not some random girl of the night. You who’s eating right. You who’s living the dreams of the kid ten years younger, you who’s still chasing the biggest dreams that this mind could imagine. You who’s still waiting for that spark of a right time to travel the world. You who’s still waiting for the time to say “I made it”.
I hope that you haven’t become one of those pompous bastards in suits chasing money 24/7, forgetting the truly important stuff. It would be cool that you work in sleek suits but still kind enough to share and give back everyday in some way; not forgetting to kiss Mama, Mommy, and Pops in the cheek. I hope that you now achieved the promise of becoming a lawyer. I hope that you are now planning to settle down with the love of our lives, the ladyfriend for a year, or two, or five, or eight, or nine. That beautiful one you wake up to every morning, that flower you come home to every single night, not trading her for the whole wide world, trying to make her genuinely smile everyday. Go and get her, tiger! Be decisive! I hope that you already have a home with a ridiculously good-looking kitchen and full pantry with all the spices and herbs and freshest produce that I can play with. I hope that you are now somebody and made a name for yourself. I hope that you traveled half of the world by now. I hope that you are still scheming, hustling, dreaming dreams on how to elevate our already awesome life.
And self, don’t write anything to me. I do not want to know the future in an instant, I want to see it unfold in front of me, I want to see how good I could be, I want to see my limits broken, I want to learn by the way of adventure, I want to be ready ten years from now, I want to see how can I transition to be you. I still have a lot of things to say to you, but for now maybe this letter would do. Pray for me, and I will see you in the mirror after ten good years. Let’s have a drink then, shall we?
Leave your worries and doubts behind you. The darkest aspects of your past mean nothing to me, your skepticism and prejudices will dwindle in my world. Dry your river of tears, we will fly in the night sky with my old pair of wings. I want to show you that I am your wishes personified, I want you to know that I am the working man that will construct your heart into one again. Let me stop the bleeding, let me stop the hurting, let me show you how my grandma helped in this gentleman’s upbringing. I will make promises, but I would never break them. My own heart will wither if it won’t weather the challenge to solve your love. Fall in love with me, swim in my pool of wonder, celebrate life with me. I am worth the shot, the risk, the chance. You are worth the thoughts, the time, the heartbeats, and the pursuit.
Far away, far away from all the troubles of this society brought you. Slowly, let me warm your heart. Hopefully, I can conquer your fears with you. If only I had a pair of angel’s wings, I would smuggle you to paradise. Flying, flying, let’s just flutter away. Leave your metaphorical baggage, leave what you do not want to remember, let’s just make new ones which you and I will treasure forever. I will stay right by your side when you need me, when you want me, or I will just be silent but still by your heavenly side. I am your Superman, let me save you, let me catch your fall in these arms of mine. I am your Spiderman, let me kiss you within the storm, your storm. Let me be your Cap’n America, an old school attitude that’s not just a facade to capture your heart. I can be any superhero or villain that you want me to be. Believe in fiction, believe in me, believe in love again.
Fly with me.
Hold my hand, let’s swim, press play. Fall into the reveries of magical proportions, fall into the abyss of wander and wonder, fall into the quintessential bliss, my perfect bliss; an all-out high, an all out strike out, an all out affair. Yes, it is that time of that year again, yes, it is Valentine’s Day again.
Swim, swim, swim through this day and night with the ease and grace of a neon light, create everlasting memories with the street lights. Know or don’t know what to feel, release the desire, try the passion, hit or miss, be or not to be. Bitterness has no place in the hearts of men and women tonight, sweetness is blatant in the warmth of chocolates dripping and drooling, just waiting to be eaten by those lovely lips. Ah, lovely indeed. Don’t wait for the flowers to disintegrate, depreciate, nor develop a hatred towards you. Smile, smile, smile.
The sense of purpose, the sense of want to make a lady smile, the scent of romance. Try, try, try, nothing will matter tonight. Liberate, liberate, liberate the emotions. Transition, transition, transition to a 70’s jazz person in New York city café. If not, die in your own solitary confinement with nine cats and wait for the clock to strike 12:01. Cheers!
Running is more than a rush of footsteps upon concrete pavements, running is more than just the Adizeros or Nike Flyknits, running is more than just burning the fat out of your body, running is much, much, much more than just creating a new physique out of your old one. Running is more than just chicken boobs, the Gatorades, the nut butters, the bananas, or carbohydrates.
Running is freedom! The way the early morning wind brushes across my face, the way the moonlight shines upon my chosen path or trek for tonight’s seemingly long run. Running frees me of every single chain that binds me in this world, it lets me forget about a heartbreak or work-related strees ephemerally, more than an alcohol-induced frenzy could make. Running is euphoria, running is happiness in sweat. Running gives me that kind of bliss.
Runers, true runners, do not discriminate. Whether you’re a seven year old kid wanting to show off for your childhood sweetheart or a seven hundred year old man who still wants to feel alive, go! Whether you’re a skinny guy, a plus-sized still, or already achieved your goal body, go! Whethe your wearing the newest and the best running gear in the market today, whether you’re wearing basketball shoes, soccer shoes, slippers (ouch!), then goooo! Especially, whether one can run a 10-km trail in 20 minutes or a 10-km leisure jog in 20 days, go for it! Night or day, rain or sun, runners, true runners, never discriminate other runners.
Running creates a world out of mundane moments, where marathons and fun runs are prolific, where hillsides and streams are conquered one step at a time, where new focus, health, and heart surfaces. Running is a part of my life.I enjoy every second of it, and I adore it like lady.
Everything’s magic. From the moment we wake up, from the moment we stir our coffee and smell the soothing aroma that it brings. From the moment we put on our corporate clothes, or uniforms, or even our running gear. From the moment when we kiss our family’s cheeks before we go to school or work. Or every moment that we are alone basking in a garden full of flowers and fruits. Every single thing is magic … just because we are alive and living.
We are alive in a world where possibilities are endless, where dreams do come true, where hope is not futile, where awesome happens, and where smiles are prolific. The only thing that is missing are the eyes that can see those daily things. It happens, they happen, magic happens, always and forever. Why wouldn’t you look? Look up, down, right, or left? North, South, East, or West? The indie singer’s angelic voice right across the street trying to earn a buck or trying to engage into a successful singing career? The complete family who is not on their phones or gadgets while eating in one table, just there talking, laughing, and reminiscing. A true togetherness. The way a kid’s eyes shine when he sees for the very first time a toy store bigger than their house! A man who does not forget his youth every time his work schedule for the day ends. The people who still care about the environment and their surroundings; the ones who are not throwing their trash around like the world is just one massive garbage bin. And the people who share the blessings that they have, how little or how much, to the ones who have blatantly less. These are every day magic, true magic.
Wondrous things, that is all the world is showing us. There maybe times that are quite saddening or despairing, though. I absolutely know that. Still, without little bits and pieces of challenges or problems here and there, what is life? Without a tear from a heart, how can one know how to smile? Without a heartbreak, how can one know love? Without gloomy days, how can one know the difference between the sun shining and the rain falling?
We live for a reason, a beautiful one. It may seem dreary or flabbergasting more often than not. Sure, more often than often as one gets older and more mature; but it is life, this is life, this is how magic works best: through the tough and hard times. We all pull through somehow right? Things do eventually fall into their rightful place, with a little bit of hard work and a dusting of magical kerfuffles here and there…called faith, hope, and prayers. Smile.
I never knew a Christmas when there were crestfallen moments in every aspect of the day. I can never remember a Christmas when a heart was empty, without happiness and bliss. A Christmas where everyone was in a joyful mood that I could not help but smile. A Christmas where music was alive, where harmonies and symphonies integrat e into the classics of every child’s favorite holiday, where Buble’s or Sinatra’s album was playing. And everyone cannot help but sing along. A Christmas where food is abundant, where every table is filled with sweets and savories, where diets are eviscerated for one night. Those Christmases I do love most, those Christmases I cherish, I adore , I miss every second of the year…but not this one.
A Christmas filled with drear and gloom. A Christmas that I cannot even touch a sliver of my mother’s hair. A Christmas that I cannot even taste a sip of my father’s instant caffeine and complain how it’s too sweet and does not linger in my palate. A Christmas that I cannot joke around with my brothers. A Christmas, this Christmas, this inexplicably wrong way to celebrate the season, this Christmas without them, away from their love. I hate this one, I loathe it, I despise it, I abhor it. All the time I was solitary walking looking at the kerfuffles brought by this season remembering the times that it made a magical effect on my mood and emotions, but it is gone. Not even a tinge of wonder, not even the kid in me wanted to celebrate even one bit. The smells of my fave kakanin were nostalgic, but it only did wrong to me. I wanted Santa to rescue me for an hour two away from the stress, the motherfucking stress and longing that a job did.
I am new to this. I am new to the corporate world where people work for a living, where holidays are not spent with their loved-ones, but spent in front of a computer like a flipping robot. I utterly detest the notion of work first, celebrate later. Maybe I’ll get used to it, I must get used to it sooner than later. For now, I just have to suck it up and pray that this new year will get better. Eventually. Hopefully.
Show me what true horror is, Mr. Lovecraft. #Necronomicon
Let dreams ignite the night. Don’t let them go, let them bask in your light. Without them, we are nothing but useless cadavers. We are dreams accumulated by our years of stay in this Earth. We are what we think, what we believe in, what we put our trust into. Our strength comes from the hunger within ourselves, our light comes from the spark in our hearts. We are thoughts, we are we, we are dreams. Hold unto them. Always believe that everything gets better, everything just keeps getting better.
Let hope thrive in every inch of our bodies, knowing that it helps us in our elevation. That soothing voice that says just keep going. Quitting won’t do at all. Quitting is never in our system. Quitting is for no one. Hope, hope until you see the light, until you see another day shining brilliantly on your doorstep, hope until the stars shine, until moon shows her face, until the last breath comes out of our lips. We will hope. We will forever. We will until we live.
Let faith be the guiding light. Let it be the platform of every dream and every utterance of hope. It is subtle, it is beautiful, it is the one thing that can make it all count. Faith to make it. Faith that we are still breathing. Faith that tomorrow will be so much better. Faith that things will fall into place. Faith that we are in the right direction. Let faith be the one to put you in the stars.
To just fly high up in the sky and never ever come back down.