in my fortress

It has been quite a while since I have put my thoughts into writing. Of course, I wanted to write a novel in the style of Mitch Albom and Amy Tan, a book about life and how it is lived by ordinary people living extraordinary lives in their own ways. Years back, I dreamed of writing stories as a way to escape – where I can revise my life and be someone else somewhere else. In my imagination, I could change everything: myself, my life, my past. But the mere idea frightens me because it is as if by imagination alone I am condemning what I do not like about myself or others that have made a significant impact in my life. I suppose writing what you wish for is the most dangerous form of wishful thinking. And I still think it is.

In the midst of all the crazy things that continue to happen in my life, I suppose people are wondering how I manage to stay intact with my sanity. Is it courage, or is it because I finally have no choice but to stay strong hence everything else will falter?  Maybe both happen to be true. But sometimes the truth lies deeper than what is meant to be seen by the eyes. I appear intact but there are a lot of things going on in my mind. Maybe one of these days I will put a “Fragile” sign up there because it grows sensitive to every bit of stress-related event happening to me that seems to be never ending. I came to realize that life is one big compromise. That you don’t get what you want no matter how smart you are, how hard you work, or how good you are. Life as blissful as a flowing river is but a myth. Everyone else is hanging on the best way he can. And with that I stay strong and courageous because I know it isn’t just me. I am but a representation of a multitude of those who suffer in a different way. Maybe being pessimistic about life has made me stronger and able to cope. I stopped thinking about life as sweet when the rain started pouring nonstop for me. I was disillusioned so I have to find a way to see things in a different perspective – to not put my life against a backdrop that’s pure pastel. From there, I gain whatever is needed to stand up and face it all, even if deep inside I am aching and hurt.

And then I put everything into writing. But this time, the intention is not to revise my life but to highlight the good points the bad spots have left behind. And with that I get to relive my life and not feel any regret for all the things that I have done. I am my dad’s daughter and for him I have been (am) and I will be strong.