"Bruised"

            

Counting my  blessings aside, the last quarter of 2012 has been a real test for me. - I was,  more than ever last year,  was physically & emotionally hurt.  Thus,  the trauma it causes has yet to left its ugly scars as an awful reminder of the terror I had  that  fateful day.

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Looking back, I got a freak accident while on my way to work.  One of the most unpleasant in my 3 decades or so of existence.  Perhaps, even the greatest of artist would  find it difficult to paint my very face while I cringe in pain after slipping badly in a pavement.  Plus to my moment of torment,  there were only goofing eyes,  but no willing  hands to pull me up - so I stood all by myself & hold on to whatever might  I  left - like a bloody soldier aiming  to victor a gory battle against a more stronger foe.

The same was good enough to semi-paralyzed my right knee and elbow for days.   The agony turns into weeks & then into months (I hope not for years).  Dang!  SLEEPING WAS ONCE AN IMPOSSIBLE DREAM.  I was parallel to a young boy- screaming for his mothe's help r each time the terrible stinging of an impaired flesh strikes in wee hours. 

THE AWFUL SLIPPING REUNITED MY LOVE-AFFAIR WITH PAIN RELIEVERS.   At least, the costly drugs kept me sane during the day & screened my  beloved work  from potential  peril.  My other support (a seemingly useless sling) had to be detached had since it  hinders  the blood to circulate freely unto my aging veins - which, to my dismay, only  further the swelling.  

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Ugh. It's been 18 weeks. Whilst the hurting is yet  to  persist,  It mellowed somehow.  Soon, I'll be arm to arm with an ortho for some joint-stretching sessions.  Interestingly,  I've  learned a new skill - the art of writing & brushing my teeth using the left hand.  Oh, I can do brisk walking too even without a patient buddy to lean on. Nevertheless,  I badly miss fun-runs &  muscle toning.  As of this writing, my muscles sagged upon losing their once-manly  curves, -  and my weight dwindled alongside my once-voracious appetite.  

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The emo part...

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Sometimes, I WONDER WHICH ONE IS MORE PAINFUL... - A broken bone or a broken spirit?

Barely a week prior to my pavement-scandal, err.. accident,   I  fought a rather bad fight with a buddy I highly regarded like a bro .  Our feud was pretty disappointing,  REALLY.  There  were no changing of  blows or blood spitting, but I supposed, the sudden parting  hurts  more  than a blow.   In retrospect of happy times, we used to drink in the same tumbler, ate in the same utensils and  throw silly jokes  to  one another as if it's our last.   We prayed & studied the gospel together.  WE SHARED & BELIEVED THE SAME FAITH.

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Those were the noteworthy days gone by.  Life can be achingly funny.  One day, your  friendship is as good as gold, then as cold as a marble, the next.   The immortal saying "A SMALL DISPUTE COULD INJURE A GREAT FRIENDSHIP" ran true in our case.   Worse, it  awaken the sleeping dragon in us and much to our horror mirrored ourselves breathing flaming words - so unruly & unforgiving.  Days passed by,  with wounded emotions being stitched with wrath, we chose not to cross paths, hear each other's voices or even gaze at each others countenance.  Suddenly, we became an epitome  of a perfect strangers.

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"LET OUR LIGHT SHINE UPON THE OTHERS",  a quote  I vividly recalled in one of his motivational sermon. The same phrase I doubted now WHEN OUR HEARTS ARE DARKENED BY FOOLISH PRIDES,  CONSUMED BY THOUGHTLESS RAGE.

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YES, we're no longer THE SAME MEEK, SMILING & SYMPATHETIC PEOPLE WE ONCE WERE.   The so-called "Good Guys" being dear & trusted by many.  And such  gloomy thoughts pains even more compared to the physical traumas I have had.  And I can't help, BUT MISSED MY OLD SELF - AS WEL AS HIS. 

 There were  times I  found myself gravitating towards him,  aiming for a civilized talk,  with high hope to bridge the space that kept us ignorant and isolated.  But with his cold shoulder and astonishing blindness display,  I realized he's neither willing nor ready, yet;   and because his kindness & trust for me seemed to fade,  I might just end up  "only pursuing shadow and/or  running after the wind ".  

Nonetheless, IF  ALL OF MY BRUISES  ARE HEALED IN DUE TIME,  I  SHOULD TRY CROSSING THE NARROW BRIDGE WHEN I GET THERE .  AND WHEN THE RIGHT TIME COMES, I LOOK FORWARD to see my  long-missed BRO waiting patiently on the other end - smiling   -  with  his gentle hand open - & reaching out on me. 

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IN GOD, THIS I TRUST.

The Great Flood that was

And so mother nature fumes,

- and whipped her wrath in our disaster-prone Island AGAIN. Harder her lashing this time. Giving no mercy! Sparing no one! Claiming hundreds of lives and tens of thousands of homes.

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The society's privileged and lowly were altogether marooned and turned captives inside their own house & rooftop for 12 hours of incessant rain causing the floodwater to rise. A picture of crying, hungry, & terrified souls were captured by the world's camera and shy previous records of Tragedy in the Philippine history. Suddenly, there were an unprecedented feeling of Pain, Death & Hopelessness around the formerly blissful Capital. Till date, many are still waiting for Basic Needs or Rescue Teams to come. To those who have pledged to..and gave helped already, - YOU ARE THEIR HERO!
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"Missing" the Storm,

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In irony, whilst my heart brake for them, I sort of missed the piercing of storm, the gushing and streaming of wind and rain. My bad. But I covet its “magic”, minus the harm. Been out… away, and because wet days in the Desert is as rare as an honest politicians, and dry spell experience here matches a Holy Week Penitents’ belting of bare back under a burning sand. The satellite images of this shocking event brought to us alive those -
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Gut wrenching scenes,

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Gritty portrait of which reminds me of my raw life in my hometown Pasig and Marikina – 2 badly-hit Cities of Ondoy/Ketsana in the Metro. The worst in 4 decades, after Milenyo's equally barbaric attack in 2000 and that of Frank in Western Visayas last year. While I also seek everyone’s continued prayer and lending hand to help end the victim's hunger, fear & torments, i am recapping my own semi-tragic tale back then - had my wet past played a good part in shaping the core of my sunny being today. I will never ever forget the day I saw the -

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Diaspora of People,

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It was a dark period for my family and for the entire neighborhood. Yet, in the advent of ominous clouds and raging water approaching fast our town's high roads and ceilings, I was a carefree boy who would leap and laugh at the depth-ness of the abyss, explore its mystery, and delight at those wet, weird and “wonderful” moments which petrify the others from a distance. When our dry land turned into a brown sea, I entered a whole new world and I was thrilled...overwhelmed, but not with -

The Aftermath,

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'it caused when all it left are stubborn muds and bleeding wound casted to my family's possessions & emotions - and scar sculpted deeply to my town-men's memory - bearing testimony to the great deluge that was. It was another tale of desperation to which we as always rise above. The period of restoration and withering was grueling and long, but throughout the same hard years of warfare w/ many storms & aftermaths, we have learnt to master our virtue of patience, willpower & faith to God. The same goes for the injured and -

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Survivor of this year's tragedy,
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Amidst the battery of test and tug of war between hope and despair, of life and death, I witnessed too how my fellow countrymen of yesterday and today, remain grounded in their feet, holding each other's hands and strengthen one's another arms. they would give as much as they could. What a selfless, moving and humane sight to behold!

And from a safer ground, my young eyes feast at those act of goodness, ...and love.

Related Article: An Inretrospect

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