A Reason

I've been thinking a lot about life these past few days. About how ephemeral it is. About how insignificant and superficial one's life is in the grand scheme of things, yet at the same time eerily profound. I've been thinking about how it holds great importance to some people... no matter how miserable their lives are, they still see some sort of beauty in it. Some people just see life as redundant. An endless cycle that we have to do again and again just to get through with it. Life brings no misery, yet it brings no joy and excitement either. It's just one monotonous episode after the other. To others, life brings nothing but pain, and that they would do anything to be free from it, no matter how beautiful and blessed that life is to to other people. I've been thinking about how life can be viewed differently. Depending on which perspective, depending on the circumstance, depending on who's living it. There are so many facets in life, a single person can't possibly see each one of them. We can't really see how life is through another person's eyes, and we can't really see life in its entirety.

I've been thinking about work. I guess it's about time i ended this routine of doing nothing productive and move on to the next routine--- one where i could at least do something of worth, no matter how small the impact may be. I've been unemployed for more than a year now. I'd much rather sulk all day, lying alone on this bed, wallowing in guilt and misery... but i realize i can't go on living like this for the rest of my life. I've got to do things to keep me distracted, to keep me away from certain thoughts... at least temporarily. For the time being, I have to pull myself up.

During those years that i have been working at different hospitals, i've gotten to know a lot of patients. There were those who were completely devastated when told that there was no cure for whatever ailed them. There were those who would move heaven and earth just to receive the proper treatment. There were those who would stubbornly hold on, even when all hope was lost. When i looked into their tearful eyes, i saw the same thing. They were asking for mercy, for another chance, practically begging me for it... as if i had the power to change things. Most of them were old, most of them were weak, most of them weren't well off. And therein lies the irony. I never knew them well enough to know how they lived their lives, but i guess in their eyes, life was beautiful. Life wasn't something you'd give up just like that.

On the other hand, there were also many who didn't give a damn at all. They were usually the young and the strong, those who seem to have great potential. Some were rich, some had great jobs, some had a lot of things going for them. They come in after a failed suicide attempt, and they look at you with hatred as you're treating them because you have deprived them of their chance to escape... to escape that life that seemed so perfect to others. And then once they've calmed down, they look at you as if you have betrayed them. They look at you as if asking for mercy, because they know you have the power to make things all right again. Sometimes I wonder if we were doing the right thing back then. I could never know how life was for them. I'm not them, i wasn't living their lives. Life must be really bad for anyone to consider doing such a thing. Sometimes I wonder if we should just let these people be. Because what happens after we have saved them? Most never recover completely. A lot of them would suffer from a lifelong depression. Then there are those who are left completely paralyzed, there are those who could only feed via an intravenous route for the rest of their lives, there are those who can no longer speak, hear, or see... what kind of life did we give them? WHat kind of second chance? I'm not sure if we really did save their lives if we only made their lives so much more miserable. We had to sacrifice their own happiness just to make their loved ones happy. If it wasn't considered a crime, if it wasn't considered unethical, maybe it would be better if we just put people like them out of their misery.

As i'm sitting here alone inside my grandparents' room, I've been thinking about life. I guess it's my room now. I've been thinking about the past. I've always thought of my grandpa as some sort of a fighter--- he's not gonna give up without a fight. He wouldn't let go just like that. It was early March last year when i heard him say the words I'm giving up. Those words took me by surprise, because I never thought of him as a person who'd give anything up. But when i looked at him, how weak and tired he looked, i began to understand. He wasn't used to being so dependent on others for anything. He wasn't used to being carried all around, he wasn't used to being spoonfed, he wasn't used to being treated like such a baby. We never told him that he was dying, but I'm sure he knew. A few months back he could do anything he wanted, he could go anywhere. And then last March, that was what he was reduced to. By that time, life already had no meaning for him. There was nothing left. If he still wanted to do certain things, he must've realized that no longer had the strength to do them. He depended on others for every single thing, and to him, that wasn't living. When a person has reached that certain point in his life, that's the time to give up. We will all reach that point in our lives, some sooner than later.

This is the room where my grandma breathed her last breath. In fact, I'm facing that chair where I found her slumped and no longer breathing. For the past couple of years I guess i was the one she depended on mostly... at least next to my dad. Whenever i went out at night, she would ask me to come home early. I used to think that was just her being overprotective as always. And every time i'd get annoyed. But as her health gradually worsened, I saw an increasingly worried look in her eyes, as if anything could happen any minute. She had a point. My grandpa had a separate room upstairs, my dad didn't live with us, and my brother was seldom home. If she needed to be brought to the hospital, no one could bring her there immediately. She had to call me or my dad. That happened several times during the last few years, but i was always at work when it happened. I guess that was just dumb luck. She had to wait a few minutes before my dad came, but they always made it to the hospital just in time. Maybe that's why we have grown complacent. She always made it in time. She always had that worried look, and that's how I know that she's the type of person who'd continue clinging on to life for as long as she could. On her last few days I thought she had already given up. SHe refused to go back to the hospital no matter what. She'd rather stay at home. But somehow she found a reason to keep fighting near the end. That woke her up from her state of temporary hopelessness. But it's just her luck that I was the person at the house that time and not my dad. I know, i did everything i could and things probably wouldn't have gone any different if my dad was the one at home with her that time, but that's one fact i can never erase. I was the one who failed to bring her to the hospital in time.

My grandpa didn't find any reason to keep on living, that's why he gave up so easily. My grandma found one and that brought her in a proper state of mind, though that realization came a little too late. That's what gives every person the strength to move on. At least one reason to keep on fighting, one reason to keep moving, that one reason that continues to give hope. I'm looking at my past, and there are so many things that i regret. There are moments of happiness, but they are all mixed with so many painful memories, things that i wish i could easily forget. I'm looking at my present life, and i fail to see anything of worth. There's just nothing. I try to look at my future, and the uncertainty is just so damn depressing. There's a hint of certainty, but that certainly looks bleak. It's that certainty that i do not want to face. It's not the future that i was hoping for. But i guess i'll just have to go with the flow, go wherever this monotonous life takes me. And I hope that somewhere down the road i would finally find my reason to keep fighting, my reason to keep on living. A person can only take so much, a person can only wait so much. It is uncertain at what point our travels would become tiresome. Without a definite target, to keep on walking would be deemed pointless. Without something to hold on to, sooner or later, any person is bound to give up.

Year After Year

People have been greeting me all day, and i find it hard to force a smile, I find it hard to say thanks. I find it so hard to pretend. How could I, when i find no reason to be happy at this point in my life? How can I, when I feel so fucking miserable?

For the past week my dad has been bugging me to throw a birthday party. Jesus Christ. After the bad news that I received last week, he actually thinks i'd be in the mood to party? He actually thinks i'd be in the mood to celebrate? Celebrate what exactly? 3 decades of going nowhere? more than 30 years of living a life that is so far from the life that i wanted to live? Jesus fuckin' Christ, how dense is he? I didn't even want to get out of the fuckin' house, I don't even want to socialize with people. It wouldn't take rocket scientist to figure that out. It's written all over my face. To keep on bugging me to do something that I really do not want to do is not just annoying, it's downright insensitive.

But yeah, about a day before my birthday, we arrived at some sort of compromise. If i didn't want to invite my friends and our relatives to join me on this momentous occasion, we should at least eat dinner at a nice place outside. Just us, just our family. Just to get it over with, i agreed. But before we left our house, he told me not to forget my credit card. I asked him why. He told me didn't have enough cash at the moment so we're gonna use my card to pay for dinner, he'll just pay me when my credit card statement arrives at the mail. Oh my fucking God. Another one of so many facepalm moments. If he didn't have enough money, why choose such an expensive place to eat in the first place? And need I remind him that it was his idea. I didn't even want to go out. Eating dinner at home would be fine with me, but of course something as simple as that wouldn't be appropriate for such a glorious occasion.

During dinner, I was looking at the people I shared the table with. Seated across from me, there was that man that I've grown to despise so much after so many years. I recognize his great efforts to reach out, I can see that he has genuine concern for me. But all those things could never cover us his past mistakes, his past misdeeds. I don't think i can ever forget some of the things he has done. Too many huge missteps. Too many major fuck ups. Nothing could ever cover up those past sins. Absolutely nothing.

On my left was the guy whom i grew up with, but i never really had the chance to form some sort of a bond because we spent most of those years fighting and arguing instead of having some sort of meaningful conversation. I don't hate him now, but i don't feel any form of attachment with him either. Nothing.

And then there were the three women whom i only saw once a week. Sometimes weeks went by without seeing them at all. I felt no animosity towards them all those years, save for very few occasions... I never developed hatred towards them, but i never developed deep concern for them either. I just never had a chance. Maybe if things were different when i was growing up, I would have learned to care for them more. But with the way things were, i just never had the opportunity.

I looked at everyone seated at the table, and I never lost that feeling that somehow, the whole picture felt incomplete. This year marks the very first time I've celebrated my birthday without that one person that i'm closest to. Without that one person that I truly cared about. That one person who looked forward to this day every year more than anyone else. Maybe if she was still here i wouldn't feel this sad. Maybe the impact of that terrible news i've received last week would be lessened somehow. Maybe i wouldn't feel as depressed. Maybe I would have answers instead of unending questions, maybe the road ahead wouldn't be so unclear. If she was still here, maybe I wouldn't feel so fucking miserable.

It's been such a long time since my birthday meant something to me. For the longest time I have been apathetic. For the longest time I have been cynical. Now my birthday has some sort of meaning again. It reminds me of all those years i've wasted, it reminds me that i am still going nowhere.

When i was a child, my birthday was that day i looked forward to more than Christmas. When i was young, I couldn't be more happier than I was on my birthday. Now my birthday no longer holds such meaning to me. I no longer feel happiness nor apathy. Now my birthday is just depressing. So fucking depressing.

Now and Then

This is definitely one of the worst weeks of my entire life. The weeks leading up to it were bad enough. That sense of uncertainty kept me anxious, i thought i would go crazy. But i thought everything would turn out right in the end. All the stress that I was feeling back then would disappear in an instant because the pay off would be big. But as always, luck wasn't on my side. I guess it never was. I got no huge payoff. All i got was a huge disappointment. And that feeling that once again, I am a failure. I didn't just fail myself. I also failed all those people who believed in me.

It was probably doomed from the start. On hindsight, I guess it was. Overall my whole application was weak. I was lacking in many areas, yet i thought I would still pull through in the end. After all, I know several people who had worse credentials and they made it. Surely I will. But I never considered the fact that they had connections to important people. I never considered the fact that applying right after graduation made such a huge difference. And I never considered the fact that some people always seemed to have luck on their side. Pure dumb luck.

The reality has not set in yet. I thought I'd be in such a mess, but as of now, I'm not. I don't feel a thing. I don't feel anything. Maybe tomorrow when several people are already in a festive mood, i'd finally feel all the pain. I'd finally feel guilty that I've wasted my grandmother's money. I'd feel guilty that I won't be able to fill in my grandma's role of paying for the education of my cousins. I'd feel miserable because I'd be stuck in such a shitty, fucked up, god forsaken country. i would hate myself so much, because after all that time and money spent, i still have nothing.

I have to renew my driver's license tomorrow. Trouble was, I couldn't find a certain form that i needed. Good. Now I had something to do to keep my mind off things. My file cabinet was a mess. It's full of papers gathered for so many years, mostly unsorted. I didn't know where to start. As i scanned through all that junk, i figured I might as well throw a lot of those in the garbage. I even had reviewers back from high school and college for crying out loud. Brochures from different universities. God, I had junk from eons ago.

Then i saw my report cards from high school. Straight A's all through out. Not a grade below 90. Jesus, I was such a nerd back then. Funny thing was, i didn't really do a great deal of studying. I still had time for a lot of stuff. Sure there were times when things were difficult, but those times were rare. Most of the time, i breezed through school effortlessly. With those high grades, I could pretty much go to any university that I wanted. Then i saw the letters from two universities who kept asking me if i would still consider enrolling even after I have already enrolled at the university where i wanted to go. Man it felt good to be wanted that way. it made me feel so important. It made me feel as if i had achieved something great.

But then came college. I had a little too much fun after freshmen year. I discovered a lot of things. I began to discover that life wasn't all about school, it wasn't all about studies. What can I say? I stopped being a nerd when being a nerd actually started to matter, when being one could have made a huge difference in my life as a whole. College was great. it was probably the best four years of my life. But a person can't have everything. After freshmen year my grades were no longer extraordinary. They were bordering on average. I almost flunked one subject for Christ's sake, and that feeling was so unfamiliar to me. looking back, that was really stupid. The subject matter wasn't very complicated at all. I just didn't bother studying. As a result, i didn't get into my med school of choice. But things turned out right anyway. If i went to that med school, i wouldn't have much of a social life. And I wouldn't possess as much skills as I have now because their curriculum was extremely lacking in many important areas. All I would get would be bragging rights and nothing else. But I didn't study as much in med school either. There were several high points, but mostly I remained an average student.

Somehow, i just couldn't study the way I did before. I guess I could if i really wanted to... and there lies the problem. I just can't commit all of my time to studying knowing that there are a lot of things that i can do. While studying for the local board exams I went out a lot. while studying for the MLEs I just couldn't give up my work because my pride just wouldn't let me depend financially on my grandma and my parents again. It's bad enough that she had to pay for all those expensive exams. I couldn't depend on her for my everyday expenses again. I guess it's a mixture of wrong decisions, wrong timing, and just plain bad luck. So here I am now.

I wonder where i would be now if i took some other course in college. I didn't know what I really wanted to be back then, but if I went to the other universities I'd probably be doing something generic by now. Generic, but financially stable. Laymen look up to doctors, some even see them as Gods. But if they only knew the ins and outs of the profession, being a physician is just like any other profession. We just play a different role in society. We do our duties like everyone else. It's just not as financially rewarding. The road we travel is long and uncertain. And if you're not lucky enough, it may never even be rewarding at all.

The past decade of my life has been made up of one wrong decision after another. If only i could go back to the previous decade when everything seemed all right, I would. I would try to do it all over again. Start from when i did that first huge mistake and redo everything. But doing something like that would be impossible. Probably as impossible as the dreams and ambitions that I have right now.

So what the hell do I do now? As I see it, there are three options. If i choose the first two options, I'd have to wait a few months. As for the result of those two options, they are both clouded in uncertainty. The third one however, is immediate, certain, and permanent. If you just based your decision on those descriptions without really knowing what they are, which one would you choose? I'm willing to bet most people would choose the third. And that's the option that seems very attractive to me right now. i've grown weary of all these uncertainties. I've become afraid of making another huge risk and making another huge mistake. When it comes to a solution, most people would be looking for a permanent one. And that's exactly the kind of solution that i have in my hands right now. I've already got everything that I need right here. With the present mood that I'm in, it's no longer a question of if. It's just a question of when.

The List

I've always kept a list of things I wanted to do before I die. Things I want to experience at least once in my life. Some of the things I've written on that list were simple. If I'd only exert a little effort i could cross them out immediately. But I've made that list years ago, back when i thought that someday, I would be living an ideal life. Someday, it would be easy to do all those things in my list. It was so easy to be optimistic when I was still young. I haven't encountered much of the harsh realities of life back then. It was so easy to dream. But as years went by, I began to realize that some of those things on my bucket list aren't really feasible at all. And as I've gone through different experiences in life, the list has evolved. Some things were added, some things were scrapped. One of those things that used to be on that list was to view the Earth from outer space. Even if I lived to be a hundred, i doubt if i could ever experience something like that in my lifetime. That's right, I was one very delusional teenager. haha.

My grandma used to have a bucket list too, although she never called it that. Some didn't require any effort from her at all. If time was on her side, all that she had to do was wait. One of the things that she kept saying again and again during the past few years was that she wanted to see all of us graduate from college. Once we have all graduated, her list was modified. She added other things. She wanted to live to see the day when my cousin would graduate from college, because she was the one paying for her education. And she told me she wanted to see the day when i'm finally stable financially. And she wanted to see the day when I got married and have a family of my own. When we all have families of our own. She wanted to see her great grandchildren. But time was no longer on her side. I don't know when those things would happen or if they would ever happen, but when that time comes, she's no longer here to see them.

Some of the things required some effort. She used to travel a lot during her younger years, but she had to stop that pastime of hers when the four of us started school. When we had finally graduated, she told me the places that she still wanted to see. But her health was no longer on her side when that time came. Traveling across the globe was no longer feasible. So she settled on that one place about a hundred miles away. That serene and allegedly holy place that she kept hearing about. She asked me and my brother to take her there, but for some reason, we never could find the time. I told her I'd finally take her there the last time she was confined at the ICU, but I knew she probably wouldn't be able to travel that far. When we took her home she told me to forget about it, she no longer wanted to go there. I had a feeling she still wanted to, but she knew that she couldn't. Her last request before she died was for me to take her to the mausoleum that was being built for them. She just wanted to see what it looked like, even though she had no idea that she was going to die two days later. My grandpa made the same request to me, since i was the person mostly at their side during their last few days. I was just waiting for them to get a little bit stronger, to get a little bit better so that they could be fit enough for traveling a short distance. Their situations only got worse instead. I made the same promise to both of them, a promise that i never kept. That was probably the only thing left in their bucket list. They asked me for help, and i failed to deliver. Like so many other things that happened last year, things that were probably predetermined by fate... I still couldn't help but feel that i was partially at fault.

They say that we should live each day as if it is our last. I have my bucket list saved on my laptop. I was looking at it a few minutes ago. If I was going to die tomorrow, next week, or the next few months, there's no way i could possibly do most of the things on that list. And i don't want to die without getting to do at least half of the twenty things I have listed. I've managed to cross out some of the things already. I've learned how to surf. I'm no pro, but I can ride a wave easily using a longboard. I've learned how to play the guitar. I'm no expert, but I can already play those songs with simple chords. See Green Day perform live--- I've done that last year. Travel to California--- I've done that thrice already. Give a substantial amount to charity--- I've done that two years ago. Save a life on my own--- I've done that many, many times. But the other things? Go on an Amazon River cruise. Have my picture taken in front of the great pyramids of Egypt. Good luck with those two. Go Skydiving? I don't think i could afford that in the near future. See Avenged Sevenfold and Slipknot live.... I've already seen two of my favorite bands perform live so i could probably scrap those other two off the list. Besides, I already have DVDs of their live concerts, and I could watch those DVDs again and again. Have a son and name him Connor--- oh boy. I've tried taking care of a baby a few months ago, and there's no way i'm ready to have kids of my own in the near future. LOL. So instead i'm putting other things. Things that are feasible. Things that I can do at this point in my life. Instead of skydiving, I can just try wakeboarding. And mountain climbing. Instead of traveling to other continents, there's still this one place a few hundred miles away that i can probably visit within the next few months. There's no use creating a bucket list if it would take so many years to cross everything out. Better to just keep things simple, to keep things attainable. If both time and luck are on my side, and if opportunity would permit me to try and do greater things in the future, then I would just modify my list again. If this year is going to be my last, i'd rather go out knowing that i've done most of the things i've wanted to do in my life. I don't want to die with the realization that I haven't lived my life to the fullest... that the life that I have lived for 30 long years was and still is incomplete.

Duality.

I push my fingers

into my eyes.
It's the only thing

that slowly stops the ache.
But it's made of all

the things I have to take.
Jesus it never ends,

it works its way inside.
If the pain goes on

I'm not gonna make it.

The Memory Remains

I did it out of boredom. I didn't have anything to do this afternoon, so i thought i might as well clean up my room. All my things were in such disarray when i got back and i never bothered fixing things up. i just didn't feel like doing anything. Part of it was laziness. But it's mostly because I didn't really care. It took me about an hour. I finished much sooner than i expected, so i figured I'd go clean up my grandma's room as well because no one else would bother to do it. Although we weren't planning to get rid of most of her stuff in the near future, I thought it would be wise to start sorting all of her things. Truth be told her room has a lot of junk stored in every corner, it would take days to sort everything--- from those that we could keep, to those that we would donate, and to those things that were unsalvageable. And besides, the room was in such a sad state of disarray, i figured it wouldn't hurt if i restored a bit of order. After all, i stay in that room often. It wouldn't hurt to make it look as if someone still uses that room.

I finally cleared her bed of all those papers, envelopes, and photo albums. Now i have a great deal of real estate whenever i would sleep on her bed. I placed all of those clothes that remained outside for some weird reason inside her closet. I noticed a lot of those clothes had holes in them, yet she still uses them. I used to wonder why she kept wearing the same set of clothes whenever we went out. I used to think that those were her favorites. But I guess the real reason was she didn't have a lot of nice clothes. When i opened the closet, there were the those clothes, the same ones i kept seeing in pictures taken from the past couple of years... all five of them. I saw that one pair of shoes that she always wore, and they were really worn out. I opened one of her drawers and saw a lot of my old socks, the ones i used to wear in college. I remember setting them aside to be thrown out because they were already worn out and too loose. Yet there they were, inside her drawer. All along i thought I had gotten rid of them. Apparently she still used them at night whenever her feet got cold. We always had the luxury of wearing the nicest clothes, of having things of great quality... thanks to her. Yet she never availed of such luxuries even though she had the means. Rather than using her money to buy her own luxuries, she'd rather spend all that for the things that we wanted to have.

God, i wonder when this stage of grief would end. Every time i think i'm already over it, that overwhelming sense of sadness comes crashing back in. I wish these tears would stop flowing already. I'm so fuckin' tired of crying.

One Man's Escape

I couldn't believe it at first, but i've actually made a friend online. I find the whole thing weird because i never believed in online friendships, save for the superficial kind. But the thing i have with this guy is something much deeper. I've told him things i've only told my closest friends. Heck, i've even told him things i've never told anyone before. The fact that i don't know him personally does make things easier. I mean, so what if i tell him something inappropriate, or something highly disturbing. It's okay, i might not even get to see him in person in my entire lifetime anyway. He doesn't know anyone i know, he can't possibly tell anyone about the things i've told him. And even if he does, why would anyone care? It's not like I'm someone famous. And if one day i realize that this person knows a little too much about me, if that makes me uncomfortable i could just choose to cease all forms of correspondence. That's the beauty of online friendships. It's so east to start them, and it's just as easy to end them.

Yeah, all those things do play a part. but more than anything, i feel great when i'm talking to him because i've found a kindred soul. It started with random comments on our blog entries. Then we exchanged messages that were about superficial stuff at first, but they gradually evolved into really deep shit. Our outlook in life, our thoughts about philosophical concepts, the personal demons that we have to face everyday... like i said--- seriously deep shit. It's amazing how we are alike in so many ways. I actually found it eerie. We have the same tastes in music and movies. We have the same sense of humor. We agree on polarizing subjects like religion and politics. And most of all, we both think that our lives suck so much even though almost everyone around us think otherwise. And we both agree that people can't really be certain about something like that. It's one thing to observe how another person lives his life. To actually live that person's life is something so much different.

It was inevitable that i would ask him about his thoughts on that thing that continues to remain in the back of mind for the past couple of months now. That thing that rarely surfaces, but never completely disappears either. He told me that to even consider doing such a thing is selfish. It's selfish because doing such a thing causes a great deal of emotional pain on other people. And that even if he reaches that absolute lowest point in his life, he still won't consider doing such a thing, because he just can't bear the fact that his actions would cause such pain on people who cared about him. Even when you think no one cares, there's always someone who does, we just fail to see it. And paying back such love with pain is just plain wrong. No one deserves to feel that much pain, especially someone who cares so much about you.

But wouldn't it be selfish on the part of other people to prevent someone from doing something that he really wanted to do? If a person thinks there's no other way, wouldn't it be selfish of us to deny him of his only form of escape? it's selfish to think of the pain that you would feel without even considering the pain that the other person has to deal with every day. And there's no way we can understand what that other person is going through because we are not living his life. If it ever comes to that point, we should understand that to that person, there's no other way. It's something that he has given a lot of thought about, and it's something that he would really want to do. The pain of loss is fleeting. it could take months. it could take years. And the initial impact may seem a little too much to bear. But such type of pain is fleeting. It's not the type of pain that we have to deal with for the rest of our lives. It's not the type of pain that drives us to that tipping point, it's not the type of pain that closes our doors to all other options. It's the type of pain that allows us to move on. Instead of depriving a person of his one shot at happiness, of his only form of escape--- maybe we should all just learn how to deal. It won't be easy, but sometimes we just have to learn how to let go.