Monday, October 6, 2008

happy birthday bloggy / red vines

At the risk of sounding a bit full of myself, I must say I've gone a long way from my first ever blog post. Four years ago, I logged on to Blogger for the very first time and said:

buena mano
hello! this is my first ever post! hahahaha! bwahahahaha! hehehe! bwahahahaha! this sucks! wahahahaha!

I'm celebrating my blog's birthday with a spanking new layout. Over the span of several weeks, I re-read every single post to apply tags (aka labels) in an effort to make things a little more organized.

And to add to the day's festivities, I just learned I got a blogoftheday award. I just finished adding the badge to my site's layout! :D

(regains composure) Anyway, that's it. Here's today's post.

It must feel nice to be a kid again. It must feel nice to trust again. To have nothing to worry about- candy in one hand, faith in the other. I can only imagine how it feels to have complete and perfect faith in people.

Scene: Tea with a friend. African Sunrise to go with my Filipino Sunset. Animated, she tells me about her current crisis and I listen intently. Bag of Red Vines in hand, I stuff my face with licorice. Unknowingly, I was beginning to zone out of the actual world and into my own.

I rubbed a piece of candy between two fingers and watched the lines move as my fingers do. I remember twisted chaos. I remember finding beauty in something messy. Where was I now?

I realized I didn't know what my friend was telling me anymore so I offered her a red vine and made peace by tuning back in. By then, the rain was starting to really pour and the chances of us coming home any time soon were pretty slim and so I ordered another drink and had another red vine.

In the middle of her next story, I stared at (what felt like my first but was actually) my seventeenth consecutive red vine. I realized that there was nothing inside it. My new best friend was hollow. And to think I had so much faith in its stability. I remember being hollow. I remember trusting that things can only get better. Was I still there now?

There's a wall near my house with an ugly word. It symbolized everything that I thought I wanted. I must admit, it's been a little tough to trust again. To recover, I've pretty much covered up a lot of places in myself. Today, I saw that someone had painted all over that wall. It was a different color from the original paint and so it was quite obvious that it was placed there to conceal something. I am this wall. I've had (emotional) work done, it's obvious but at least it doesn't scare me anymore.

From the top of the hollow red vine, I make a little crease with my fingernail. With very little effort, I managed to tear the whole thing apart. Once laid flat, the lines looked kinda straight. I took another sip of my tea and smiled to myself. Once broken, it became easier to see what was true and what isn't. Every twisted mess (or messy twist), when taken apart becomes straight and easy to understand.

It feels nice to trust again. It feels natural to have faith in people again.