February 11, 2008 - My date with Morrie…

I read Tuesdays with Morrie today in one sitting, and I can’t stop the tears that fell on my cheeks as I finished it. Embarrassed, as I was in the office at the time, I stopped a while, and with book held on the side of my cheek, I brush the tears away…

The passages are simple, the words easy to understand—no flowery words nor phrases with deep meanings, but it struck me as I believe it did all others who read the book. And I realized that it’s because, in the end, I didn’t want Morrie to die. Because I wanted to be able to meet him someday, that I too, can get my share of his knowledge and guidance. Because I was envious of Mitch for having this kind of mentor in his life.

…Because I so desperately need a Morrie in my life right now, and reading of his death made me wonder if there is someone else in the world just like him.

“What happened to me?”

This is the question that ive been asking myself a lot lately. I keep wondering why I can’t keep my interest for long, why I decide on something, and if I don’t get it at that time, I lose track of it, I forget it altogether. I wonder when and where I lost my zeal, my passion, my interest, and I ask myself when did I become mediocre and allowed myself the kind of life im living right now.

And alas, I still don’t know the answer.. I can create a plan, I can write a list, but that will not ensure that I can replenish myself of my lost energies, nor that I can wake up from the stupor of hopelessness and helplessness I fin d myself waddling in right now. I can try, but what if I become disappointed again? I can hope, but what if nothing happens?

Im falling deeper and deeper into this abyss and I don’t know what to do anymore.

I want to live.

I want to live…

Modern Vampires

Night in… day out…

As early as 6 in the evening to about 5 in the morning they emerge. Wearing hooded jackets to keep away the cold, they walk, some have a purpose, others do not. Feeling like the dead that they are, they go to that place where at the end of the day, they know they have something to fill their aching bellies, endless vices and infinite luxuries. Satisfaction. Routine.

Some have lived so long in the dark that they long for it. They feel it in their veins, it beckons with every pumping of their blood. There are few people in the streets, few vehicles roaming around. The street is their own. The metro is their turf.

You can identify who they are by the haze surrounding them. Groups of two or more crowd in a single place. Peals of laughter, shouts, obscenities and nervous chatter permeate the air. The billows of smoke from their mouths characterize them all. Acrid. Humid.

15 minutes… 1 hour… Breaktime and lunch. At the exact hour they must leave their companions and ascend to their seats. Some prepare to sleep, some take to the phones. For the next hour, and the next, and the next. Mouthpieces in place, they talk…and talk… and talk… Boring. Mediocre.

The sun comes out and they stare, longing for the rest that was denied of them. Remembering the early warmth of walking outside when they’re still protected by the mist of early morning. Hopeful that when they do go home the sun’s rays will not fall down on them. Hot. Sizzling.

15 minutes…10 minutes…5 minutes… Time. They go out hurriedly. Some walk with the living, pretending to have the same enthusiasm as the day walkers, enjoying the brief time that they have before being confronted by sleep. Some lay down to rest. Some huddle back to their usual place to continue their smoking frenzy. Some put on headsets, blazing music in their ears, shunning the bustle of the day.

But at the end of the day, they have to lie down. Eyelids weighed like a ton they have to retire. Despite all efforts to live the normal life, they have to cover their eyes and embrace the truth that for now, night is day and day is night.

The clock ticks. The alarm sounds. The time is up and they wake up.

As early as 6 in the evening to about 5 in the morning they emerge.

The modern vampires.

And I am one of them.