suicidal

life to many is viewed as precious, rich and a one-time offer only. yet i’ve come to observed that more and more, people take control and end their useless piece of a life and commit suicide. why is that? if they think it’s because it’s the only escape from their troubles, it’s not. and if they do it just because their life is devoid of any meaning, then why not? after all, we have the gift of choice and the power of free will so why not exerise it fully?
what i don’t understand with Christianity though, is why they refuse to help those people who went to take the less traveled road when it’s them who needs their prayers the most. i thought the central dogma of their savior Jesus Christ, is to repent and forgive seventy times seven? i believe it has less to do with the fact that they defied the father by ending their life and more to do with pride. if Christians were indeed following Christ, he who befriended the forsaken and welcomed the poor, then aren’t they suppose to bend a little and open doors to those over-sensitive artists who are most of the time left out and misunderstood? i cannot live in a community who believes in justice and yet doesn’t have the heart to help out those who need guidance the most. what does that say of them then, that it’s okay to abandon the sheep who mutilated himself and is bleeding profusely but it’s a sin to give up on those who backslide and wander in other directions, unable to attend mass every sunday?

bring on the wonder

Bring On The Wonder – Susan Enan Featuring Sarah McLachlan

Memories are only random motions of ordinary life stringed together by pure emotion. And yet they influenced who we were, where we’re headed and what we become. Why is there so much power in some abstract concept? Maybe because we want to keep a record of our contribution in this infinite universe, we make them powerful enough to either give us life or break us apart, aware that our every action is actually bounded by chance and that they are parts of ourselves that we can never bring back. And so they remain a silent portal through which our souls go through every once a while just to feel the reality of time and our trivial existence. -October 27′08

It is in solitude where we open up, in sorrow we find companionship and in darkness, with Luna overshadowed that we are able to see more clearly. We also learn that friendship is still the most comfortable way to fall in love and be in love and we even with imperfections, we come to appreciate humanity. And then there’s the magnitude of raw emotions, words and movement as forms of expression. Finally and most important of all, we realize that it is in pain that we are most alive.

Of course, you probably knew all that if you read the book. -On New moon, Nov.1′08

Never used to children, never used to dirt or noise or our inexperience or imperfections. Maybe that’s because she’s used to having herself on a pedestal and now she tithers as the floor crumbles beneath her. -November 2′08
Sometimes i get a clear picture in my head, the details lucid enough for it to be real, like i’m watching a movie play. But the thought of actually ending a life, of murdering my own blood gives me an unsettling feelinf, much like wearing wet socks, and i cower and just let everything break by themselves. -Nov.2′08

Some have enough creative juices to liquidate the boundaries of sanity. Nov.8′08