Disclaimer: I wrote this some months ago when I was sad and I am posting it now that I’m happy. Also, forgive the frequent use of disclaimers as it serves as this illusion of a cushion that can help me write in a more serious tone. 

I feel like I had just fallen from an overturned boat, one that I have worked so hard paddling and fixing the sails just to get through. Get through where though? I would guess to solid and dry land – in the hopes that it will be better than the ocean. It was all very fast. I didn’t hear the winds changing or the boats losing its balance. In just a second, I found myself in the cold water treading my way up.

I feel like I’m holding on to bits and pieces of wreckage I could find and hope that it will take me to some sort of land.

Or maybe just swimming without any material assistance would be faster, definitely bolder. With the currents and my own physical limitations, it seemed very foolish to do that.

Heck, the entire mishap was unfair. Months and months fixing up that boat, learning how to maneuver the waves and to paddle forward – this was unexpected. But, I realized, that just as the winds can change in a second or waters rise in a blink of an eye, we will never know where the waves will take us. There are gentle waves just as there are violent ones. Maybe the key lies not in building the boat but in learning how to float.

Piece of wood, anyone?

As my friend Calvin said, “Pagdaan mo lang ‘yan.” And that I did.


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Hi, I'm Timmy. I believe in writing as a therapy, global warming and true love.

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