questions and answers

PEOPLE LIKE TO ASK QUESTIONS. it’s in our nature. it goes back from our childhood. from the time we first gain consciousness of the world down to the moment we breathe our last breath. we ask from simple questions like how we were created down to the complicated ones like what’s the pathophysiology of tetralogy of fallot? we ask questions because by asking we learn things. when we learn things, we become knowledgeable, and the knowledge we acquire gives us wisdom to make wise decisions. a person who asks a lot of questions, to some eyes is smart but to others, just plain stupid. questions and answers—one of the most infamous dualities.

questions require answers. somehow, life is a continuous quest for answers but at some point in our lives we find ourselves before a large question mark that hinders us to move forward. but no matter how hard we try to look for answers and how patiently try to wait, some answers are just so elusive. they are not just there; absent when you need them the most. they tend to run away from us. the worst thing that could happen is if the questions we’re asking don’t have any answers. then, we ask more questions. are all questions have answers? we have to ask this because the idea that unanswerable questions exist is just unacceptable especially if the questions are the most crucial ones and yield answers that could define ourselves or lead us to the person that we want to be.

we need answers especially when we are lost. we need directions. we need lamps to light our paths. we need breadcrumbs to find our way back home. we need maps where we could point our fingers and trace our steps. we need compasses to show us the true north whenever we’re lost at sea. we need lighthouses to navigate our ships to safe shores. we need a coin we could flip or a twig or a bottle we could turn when we find ourselves before a fork on the road. we need these things. we need answers especially to questions that could define the rest of our lives. the problem is where to get them?

the most complicated questions sometimes yield very simple answers. and somehow, very simple questions have the most complicated answers. every question is difficult unless you already know the answer or you have at least an idea of how to come up with the answer. it all goes down to how bad we want the answers. if we want the answers badly, we search for it. we search for answers and when we fail, we invent things to get them. in mathematics, it maybe in the form of scientific equations or algebraic formula. same goes with questions in our lives. we invent our own equations and formulas to get the answers. life is a twisted arithmetic. unfortunately for me, i suck at mathematics.

some people ask questions uncertain if they want to know the answers. people like comfort. people like sticking to their comfort zones and if they ask questions, a part of them generate a standard of the answers. they expect the answers are those they want to hear. wanting sometimes overcomes necessity. sometimes answers based on truths are just so painful that people run away from them. people are running scared. in hiding. afraid of the unknown. this is most common cause of anxiety in dying patients or those prepped for very delicate surgeries. they prefer being lost and hovering into nothingness than to suffer the pain from knowing the truth. up until now people fail to understand that pain is a part of life. that pain makes us learn. that pain makes us grow.

truly, unlucky are those hearts that can bend. they may not feel the pain but they will never learn. i call them stupid hearts. their owners are those that look for truths half-heartedly. they are the ones that tend to look for answers in the wrong places. they tend to look, well aware they’re wearing blindfolds and conveniently forgetting to turn the lights on. no wonder they end up groping in the dark. but who could blame them? people lie. they’re afraid they’ve been lied to. they’re afraid that answers may not be true and they are frustrated because there’s no way to prove the credibility and validity of the answers thrown in front of their faces. they have lost something that couldn’t be found anywhere or something you can buy in a nearby convenience store--trust. while paranoia still remains as the ugliest feeling ever.

however, blessed is the man whose heart could break. only few people know this for only few accepted the possibility that the answers could be found underneath the broken pieces. broken hearts yields better people, knowledgeable people, and hopeful people. they may have suffered pain but they are the ones that easily find the northern stars easily, to help them find their way. they are the master mathematicians of love and of life. most especially they are ones that ask and find answers; not necessarily answers that they want but most especially those that they need to move forward and grow…

the comet

THE LITTLE BOY SAW A COMET…and suddenly his life was whole.

when a night deepens, the boy would lie on an open field, his skin naked and cold against the blades of green grass, dancing with the soft gush of wind. he liked the way how he’s drenched in pitch black darkness and yet showered by every light the came from the stars and the moon high above him. the darkness emphasized every light like how the silence amplified every sound made by crickets and flowing water from a cascading river nearby.

as he laid there under the heavens, the sky seemed to draw closer to him. he would raise his hands and extend his arms to the air pretending to hold the stars, catch shooting stars, and play with the full moon. he would pinpoint to every star like how he points to letters of the alphabet he knew so well. he named each one his dark brown eyes could see and sometimes, he would make imaginary lines to connect them. he remembered the ‘connect-the-dots’ assignment her teacher gave him. he didn’t know he’s making his own version of the constellations. he had no idea that he was making his own version of the universe. he was full of hope and his mind was teeming with imaginative thoughts that he believed that he could change the world…

one night, he decided to lie on their house’s roof instead. he thought it made him closer to the heavens he had been dreaming to reach. he couldn’t explain how he felt every time he lays himself down and admire the expanse of space above him. you could say he’s happy by the width of his smile and his eyes sprinkled with stars. a moment hovered and it appeared. the most amazing heavenly body he had ever seen. the air seemed to leave his lungs as he slowly started to stand up, taking every moment in.

he didn’t know it was called a comet. years later, he would learn that it’s just a large piece of rock and ice, lost in space and burning against sunlight. but for now, it’s something greater than a piece of rock. he savored its every detail. it was like someone had turned on a flashlight high above the sky. it somehow looked like a light coming from a lighthouse, fixed at only one direction. he remembered her teacher talking about lighthouses that help those boats lost at sea to find their way to safe shores. to a safe haven. he wondered if someone is lost at sea that night. he wondered how many people were looking at the comet at the same time as he is. the thought excited him.

he stretched his arm once again and pointed at the patch of sky where the comet hovered. he traced its length starting from the head down to the tail. he then closed his eyes, and with the majestic image seared in his mind, he moved his fingers to feel it. the little boy tried to feel the comet that flew thousands miles from him... and he did feel it. he opened his eyes and lingered on the moment. he was being filled with hope and dreams and love. in that instant, his path was clear before him; the path towards the person he wanted to be. he jumped for joy that made banging sounds against the tin roof. for the first time, he knew he could reach the stars… that he was on the moon.

fifteen years had passed. he was still in the dark gazing at the darkness hovering above him. but there were no stars anymore. no moon. no comets. he didn’t even dare to stretch an arm nor reach. there’s nothing except for a darkened ceiling and cold walls pressing in on him, eager to leave him breathless. there were no stars reflected on his eyes, just salty tears he was trying to hold back but to no avail. as a tear fell and left a track on his face he remembered the comet and the track it had left against the sky that night, when his dreams were revealed to him. he remembered the tracks it had left in his life and how it gave him so much hope. he realized that they were now broken. swallowed by darkness, killed by misery, buried by regrets. he had lost all the hope. the dream. the love. he is lost. he is lost at sea with nothing to guide him in the dark. nothing to save him in the storm. he needed a solid ground. if he could only see a light from a lighthouse to lead him towards his safe haven. if he could only see the comet just one more time and find his way back…

he laid there drenched in darkness and absolute silence. waiting...

the little boy saw a comet…and suddenly his life was whole. and when the comet went away, he waited all his life for it to come back.

. . .

finding one’s purpose is an achievement of a lifetime. it’s a journey that one usually takes to find true happiness in this world of misery. a purpose makes up a fulfilled life. it’s a beacon towards something great; towards that something that could fill that empty void that lingers in one’s heart, which brings hope and happiness almost near to a happily-ever-after. but where to find it? it could be anywhere. we just have to look in the right places. some say, one could find it in the love of his life. and i believe them. i saw a comet once and to see one again would be truly the greatest miracle on earth…

"the boy saw a comet & suddenly his life had meaning. and when it went away he waited his entire life for it to come back to him. it was more than just a comet because of what it brought into his life. direction, beauty, meaning. there were many who couldn't understand, & sometimes he walked among them, but even in his darkest hours he knew in his heart that someday it would return to him & his world would be whole again, & his belief in god, & love, & art would be reawakened in his heart…"

– lucas scott, one tree hill

* the comet, original artwork created using pen and ink, dated 24 october, 2008.

on sex addiction

MY THUMBS WERE THROBBING last night, playing harry potter and the goblet of fire for 5 straight hours on my psp. i thought i’d give them a little rest, so i decided to do my late night channel hopping on our television set (my right thumb didn’t have much rest after all, since the remote couldn’t change the channels on its own). i usually start with channel 8 and up till i stumbled upon channel 76. it was the etc channel airing the tyra banks show.

i watch the show sometimes because it’s really informative. they had that golden emmy trophy to prove it. i just wish the writers would refrain from writing too much fashion, modeling, make-overs, and vanity stuff. last night however, they featured a very engaging episode about sex addiction. yippee! haha! sex addiction. sounds like a joke, right? just the word ‘sex’ could tickle that muscle to paint a smirk on your face and a red glow to your eyes. however, this is no laughing matter especially now that i have had an in depth look to the personal struggles of those suffering from this problem relatively comparable to a disease.

a bachelor confessed he had 75 sexual encounters with women for just a short span of 6 years. at first he thought he was just a normal bachelor guy enjoying his sex life. but eventually it occurred to him that he has problem. he then decided to come forward and face the issue. he admitted that he was having sex 2 to 3 times a day and never used any protection until 6 months ago when he got himself tested for venereal disease. he was lucky. the results came out negative. he added that the sexual encounters were alcohol induced. what’s remarkable about his story was that he confessed that it was not merely about having sex but search for intimacy and something long lasting. unfortunately, it always ends up in sex. it turned out he had a bad history with his mother and the reason he became a sex addict was that he used to see men coming and going in her mother’s life. at times, he could see her having sex or hear them from inside a locked. at the end of the interview he said he loves her mother but the bitterness came haunting him till now.

a woman got married with the man of her dreams. three days after their wedding, she caught her husband sexually gratifying himself over some pornography. the husband admitted that he’s a sex addict and that he was ashamed about it. he was hoping that marriage could end his addiction. he was wrong. he’d rather jack himself off than have sex with her wife. he confessed that almost everything triggers a certain chemical reaction to his body, a sexual urge. he couldn’t watch the television without premeditating sexual gratification because of sexy commercials. he couldn’t walk in the streets without noticing women showing too much skin. when his urge is triggered he immediately wants to be alone with himself and do his thing. her wife was worried this could ruin their marriage considering the fact that she wanted to have kids and have a family it turned out the husband had virtually no romantic relationships during his high school years. he also confessed that he was exposed to pornography in the early age of 8 and started his chronic masturbation since then.

a black man told his wife on television that he was a sex addict. he confessed that he doesn’t have sex with his wife but does it with other women. he reasoned that he was thinking his wife was not prepared for the ‘type of sex’ he wanted to have. hmmm… i have a hunch it involves stilettos, handcuffs, ropes, and a freakin’ whip! wapak! he should’ve married cat-woman instead.

an 18 year-old girl had sex with 55 different guys. she started having the addiction since she the age of 13. she told her best friend about her sex problem and submitted herself to therapy. she lost her virginity before she even had her first kiss. a sex without even a single kiss? how’s that? talking about pure lust. her friends, according to her, started having sex as early as 11 years old. on the bright side, she’s now a self-confessed born again virgin.

sex addiction is primarily caused by lack of intimacy. people search for intimacy to fill the voids within their hearts, but unfortunately, they get lost along the way. sex addiction is caused by low self-esteem. those people who thirst of appreciation and attention end up letting people in their lives while their reasoning is compromised. hence, they were not able to sift out the enemies and have a high affinity to those who will only cause harm instead.

these four sex addicts have one thing in common. each had experienced a dark past. something wicked seared hot on their brains and hearts; their youth was forced to understand. most sex addicts had failed to realize that sex is not only physical thing. they were not able to understand that such amazing experience should be done within an emotional bond. they had failed, because all they can see are genitals, orgasms, and pleasure. they missed the big picture. but who to blame? they were supposed to be innocent.

our past have a clever way on catching up on us. sometimes, we dwell on it too much we forget about the present and stop looking forward towards the future. but the past should stay in the past. it’s where it belongs. people sometimes forget the importance of choice but unfortunately most people deny that they have one. we always have a choice and that includes the choice to leave the past and the ability to write a new story. it is the right choice. it is true that the past makes who we are, but it doesn’t necessarily mean that the past makes the person we want to be.

each of these four sex addicts had a choice and each made one. it may sound easy; choosing the right from wrong. but it’s really hard, especially if you’re on the other side of the fence.

'tin can' bags bronze

EI, GUYS! this is tin can speaking. i just wanted to thank everyone who supported my pathetic love story with that young lady on stilettos. because of you, my story became a legend. haha! did i mention it placed 3^rd out of 15 sad stories? great huh? by the way, the lady on heels never made it to her destination. i was informed that she slipped on a puddle of mud; fell facedown, hard on the highway and got ran down by a 10-wheeler truck. i was devastated of course but i’m still grateful, because without her my story would not win a bronze medal (invisible bronze medal. joke!).

i would like to personally thank dabo, joms, kris jasper, salingpusa, myk2ts, kuya roland, kuya loven, kuya onat, st. charles, redlan, lloyd, tinay, odin, alex, ice, denis, gwen, josh marie, aethen, eli, may, bryan, the source, yods, japol, ner, chico, chigo, and ronturon J my deepest gratitude goes to you guys for believing in my story and ron’s writing. you truly made blogging so much fun.

i wanted to thank haley, ron’s bestfriend (ever!) for conducting that text brigade, even only two responded (hehe!). she’s always been there to support him down to the weirdest things that comes into his crooked mind. you still think he’s sexy with that haircut, right?

to steph, who cried those three tears for me. take a bath. ron told me you smell like powdered milk lately. you don’t think he’s sexy in that haircut, do you?

thanks to caryl, who’s always been there for me. i really do hope you gained weight already. please always take care of yourself. you still owe me a date J

also, to crysh and clyde, ron’s high school friends. i never expected them to vote but still they took time to support me. life is just full of surprises i guess.

to ms. karmi and sir arvin, the couple who organized the contest. it was really great of you to come up with such brilliant idea that brought together emo bloggers out there. no prize for 3^rd place, right? i kinda need some money right now. haha! kidding!)

and of course to the one who turned my crappy existence into a gripping story of hope and heartache---ron. i have never felt this humane before. hehe! i think you’re still sexy with or without that haircut! i suggest a really cool wig to hide the receding hairlines. you need to sleep, man. your eyebags are huge!

thanks to everyone, for believing that a withering tin can could be something that has value and that i could be anything but trash.

this achievement is dedicated to all the tin cans out there. we may be sometimes hollow, but i do hope that won’t keep us from running that extra mile to find the love of our lives…

lament for 'lamentions'?

miss karmi, the organizer of the e[kwento]mo: emo writing contest left a message in my tagboard asking for my e-mail address. she also left her messager id for me to be able to talk with her, obviously about the said writing competition. the voting will conclude tonight and i'm not sure if 'lamentations' is still qualified... Karmi had send an e-mail just now.

Hi Ron,

Nakuha namin ung entry mo para sa E[kwento]MO. Maganda ung kwento. :) Kaya lang, isang requirement namin sa contest namin eh dapat personal experience ung isusulat. Eh ung entry mo, based sa pulubi saka maganda babae diba, hindi sya talaga nangyari sa iyo? Di namin napansin kaagad, kitams, last na nga ng botohan diba? Dahil dito, hindi tuloy namin malaman kung tuluyan ka na naming hindi isasali pa sa contest o ano. Pwede ka kasing madisqualify dahil nga sa entry mo pa lang mismo. Pero dahil halos patapos na nga ang botohan bago namin ito napansin, pinagiisipan pa namin.

Sana ay makasagot ka kaagad dito sa email para mapagusapan natin. O kaya'y imessage mo lang kami ni arvin sa YM. cutecarme, onebigearth.

Salamat at pasensya na.

-- E[kwento]Mo

I replied on her YM:

lukas_03: ahh... i see...

lukas_03: well...technically its fiction...

lukas_03: because none of it really happened... i was inspired by a certain event...

lukas_03: but in the point of view of a writer, i was able to conceal something personal...

lukas_03: i was able to camouflage personal things that happened to me, delivering it to the readers not directly but by representing myself as the 'tin can'...

lukas_03: as dabo had said, you'll only get the meaning of it all if you psychoanalize me, the writer...

lukas_03: "isang requirement namin sa contest namin eh dapat personal experience ung isusulat"---this was something personal, i tell you... i just decided to articulate it in a different writing style... a different medium, considering writing aesthetics to tell a story that may appear a fantasy but relatively close to real life...

lukas_03: this said, i may have misunderstood the instructions but i'd rather say i was able to undertand in a different way but still towards the qualified end

lukas_03: but, since i'm going crazy due to my allergies, i can't trust my judgment at this point. hehehe!

lukas_03: i'll just leave it to you guys and do what you think would speak of justice.

lukas_03: peace out! :)

and now i wait if i'll end up on the same fate as that of the 'tin can'. trash. ahehehe!

. . .

UPDATE: i was able to clarify things last night with ms. karmi and explained my stand on the matter. she sort of interviewed me and asked me to tell her how my entry was categorized as 'personal'. well, i use a lot of symbologies in my writing. i just pointed them out and explained what they really mean for me since the entry could be interpreted in so many ways depending on the person who reads it. she had to consult arvin, her partner and co-organizer of the contest...

i'm still in guys :) wheeew! hehehe! the winners will be announced this coming sunday. i'm so psyched :) thanks a lot guys for the support:)