Deep Nothings

I left home kinda late today but surprisingly, I didn’t even care. As you know, I have been trying to challenge myself in gaining discipline and regaining my self-control. I started this last week and to be honest, I’m faring ok. A mere two weeks is not enough to calibrate my improvement but darn, I’m really proud of myself. Too shallow but what the heck. Whatever I am after, I mean the ways and strats I am trying to do is something I do not want to divulge in the open. As I said two weeks is not enough. Maybe a month will count but I still have to find a way to struggle.

Sometimes, I even think if I am doing everything all at the same time, which in all cases, prove to be worthless (I mean the efforts and the expectations). But no. I don’t think so. I am applying everything but not as downright as they should be. As a cliché would put it: “Slowly but surely.”

Anyway, as I mentioned a while ago, I was supposed to be late but the Heavens forbid me. When I got to the fx station, I found that I was the last passenger to a waiting cab ready to depart. Cool! It has always been like this. Thinking about it, I wanted to smack my head for being mean before. You see, I was born with a hot head. I hate waiting for more than 30 minutes when in fact I was supposed to wait for 15 minutes only. I do not really want to elaborate about this particular thing because the rational part of me will always blurt out with a “why-don’t-you-take-a-taxi-you-bitch” retort. Hehehe.

This rational part of me is indeed very helpful. Not that I am a nut case but most of the time, it reminds me of what things must be and supposed to be. When emotions tend to take over my sanity, the reason in me will take form of a whisper and voice out that these how things must be. More often than not, it works. But sometimes, things don’t work as they are. My mind knows that that thing is wrong and that it understands what’s rational. But because I let my emotions reign free over me, I just know and accept that things will get screwed up. I believe that as human beings, we are responsible for everything. But I also believe that no matter how much we try to make things as they are, there will come a time that our invulnerable, weak self will surface above our tougher exterior.

So, I found myself sitting a little too uncomfortable in the rear side of the fx cab. I pulled out my newly bought book by
David Baldacci entitled Wish You Well. As usual, I read the rundown tale at the back cover of the book. Afterwards, I flipped it off and read every page beginning from the reviews, acknowledgement, copyright, etc. I was not able to really start reading the first chapter because I preferred to observe the sights around me. As always, it was fun watching the people go about their ways in the morning. Usually, I chose to watch people’s movement from the US Embassy to Baywalk in Roxas Boulevard.

Back to the book, I finished skimming through the Author’s Note page. Written by Baldacci, he narrated about how fictional the book is. Despite that, he admitted how real the experiences of the characters were. After all, he dedicated that book to his mother. It talked about the fascinating encounters in life of her mother, of her youth and growing years in her hometown in Virginia. As I was finishing Baldacci’s note, I remembered my mother. When I was younger, she discovered my love for writing even abou the mundane stuff. She expressed her enthusiasm of me writing her biography. Contemplating about this, I had serious doubts. Not that I do not believe that I am a good writer (because I am really not, I just love to write), it is just that pursuing this request of Mamu takes a lot of time to begin with. Simply, I cannot think how am I gonna go about this. I was even thinking of hiring someone to do this for her. But I know in my heart that mom will appreciate it more if I am the one to accomplish this.

One may think how egotistical this request is. I mean, writing about one’s biography. But you see, my mom has a lot to tell. I was thinking about this, too. I am damn sure that when I interview my mom about her childhood, how her life was when she was younger, buckets of sad tears will flow down from her face. My mom experienced a hard life. For me, it was quite unimaginable. She grew up as an orphan when she reached nine years old and had to live her life like a ball, living with one relative to another to survive this life. She strived harder to go to school and earning her degree. To study while working or to work while studying is such an immense task for a person living alone. In between the years that she was growing up with this kind of life is already an unthinkable thought.

This book will surely touch me. Baldacci mentioned that it was rather ironic that he, as a writer, is always in search of a worthy story material and yet, he finds a wealth of those in his own family backyard. I thought about that and it made me realize something not entirely related to writing. It was the thought that I really never spend more time with Mamu. I never get to know more about her good side. Yes, I may knew about some irritating things about her, her fears and worries which I always regard as baseless, but it struck me real that what I knew about her was not really enough and that there are things far more important than the obvious.

2 comments:

  1. I've read that book and it seems to me, Harper Lee's "To Kill A Mockingbird" had a great influence to David Baldachi for writing "Wish You Well", that if you read those two, you'd be confused which one is which.

    I'd like to reccommend "Angela's Ashes: A Memoir"

    JohnHeart

    ReplyDelete
  2. John, really? Seems like Baldacci wanna follow the track Harper Lee is treading? :)

    ReplyDelete


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