#confessuns

[iamnotoki]

CONFESSUNS (Confession Sundays) #6 ~ I don’t know who I am . .

In the past, a magical time of discovery, hope, passion, youth and all things that shape you, (and might even allow you to see what shape that would be) I thought I knew who I was. When I myself or someone else would ask who I was, I thought I could answer that question, albeit not completely but I had a pretty good idea. I thought I knew what it was that defined a person and I thought that I knew those things, the particular things that made me who I am. I knew my name and how I got it, when and where I was born, where and from whom I came from, who I grew up with and wanted to become. I knew the things I liked and didn't like, what I wanted to do and didn't want to, who I loved (and maybe sometimes why) and who I maybe didn't love as much. (or hated, really) I knew what I believed in and what I hoped life would be, and even knew the harsh and humbling realities despite my hopes and fantasies. I knew a lot of things about and around me, well, I thought I knew. I thought I had a pretty good idea. Little did I know it was a bad idea, but now I do and it's pretty bad.

Now that I think about it (and really think about it) I realize I did have a lot of those thoughts. I thought it was all these things that made me who I am, but after some time I found out that who I thought I was and who I really was were two different things. (except for the facts of course) It's not as much because I now know who I am but that I just know that I'm not who I thought I was. I don't know who I am, but I think I know who I'm not. But if I then begin again to think about who I am, I realize how much I have no idea. And thinking about it some more, I realize how much I didn't care. And when I think some more about who I am, I can't even find the thoughts to put into words. I don't think, therefore I am not. And when I do come around and think about it, I can't find the right words. Not because I'm afraid of what people will think about what I say, but because I just simply cannot find any of the words that are capable of reflecting whatever is inside the chaos of my thoughts. Then when I try, and believe me when I say I do sometimes try, I end up saying more than what I really mean and much more than what needs to be said, just like what you are reading now. (if you have made it this far) But in a way, the mess of the words that becomes of it is similar, so there's that.

And here's this: maybe who we are is not meant to be written about but to be lived out. In the past, I wanted to be so many things. I wanted to be a writer, I wanted to write about things that mattered and many people would read about it and their lives would be changed forever. I wanted to be an artist, a musician, a craftsman, to perform any form of art that would move people and challenge the way they see, hear or feel about things. I wanted to be an inventor, I wanted to make things, simple and grand things that would help make the world an easier and cleaner place to live in. I wanted to be a leader, I wanted to lead people and bring peace all around the world. I wanted to be a poly-athlete, I want to excel in all kinds of sports and any feats of physical and mental fitness. I wanted to be a missionary, a doctor, an astronaut. I also wanted to become a success, to be rich and provide for myself and my family. I wanted so much to become everything and God knows how I tried. I tried so hard to become everything that I ended up having only a little (and sub par) bit of everything and ultimately becoming a whole lot of nothing. I write but I never ever finish the things I really want to write about. I sing, draw, design and create stuff but all within the confines of this world of mine. I lead, I run, I play, I volunteer in doing things and becoming things but not because I mean it or want it to be. I do, not because it's who I am, but because it's what I have to do.

Maybe that is why I don't know who I am, because I'm so caught up with doing what I have to do and being who I have to be, that I don't have time to see and be who I really am. I'm so busy thinking of all the things to do, the time and effort it takes to do them, and how I would have to do them again and again. I'm so exasperated dealing with people and happenings that I forget things about friends and events, about being with other beings and just being there where I am. I'm so distant about everything that I just go on and react to it all as if it's nothing because it is and means nothing to me, not anymore. And even I'm so focused on writing this that I forget about all the other things I have to do. I can't even explain why I am writing this in the first place and even what it is for. Is it just me or are we all so busy doing that we're not being? I can't answer that question for you, I can't even answer that for myself. But then again, this (whatever this is) is not meant to ask or answer anything. It might make you ask certain things, it might even make you realize some answers about some questions that you have been thinking of and asking yourself, but in the end it's all about me saying something. Not to you, not to the world, not even to the void of oblivion. I'm just saying that I may not know who I am and I might not even know what to say. But here I am, and here is what I say. I do not know who I am but (hey) at least I know this much about myself. So let's start with this shall we?

I don’t care, ~ Anthony

[iamnotoki]

sat2day (something about time saturdays) #1 | confessuns (confession sundays) #5 | gamon (game on mondays) #32 ~ two months to live . .

. . we never really know that anything (or everything) is too late, until it is too late. we know (even if we deny it) that we don’t have all the time in the world, that it’s possible that we could be gone any day anytime. but we also assume (and deny anything otherwise) that it applies to us. we assume that we do have time, we expect we have time. and when life show us the time we really have, we cannot understand it, we refuse to accept it, we can’t have it. but the simple truth is life goes on and time runs out whether you choose to believe it or not. whatever time you have is all that you will ever have and nothing you say or do, believe or fight for can ever change that. we either accept it right now or learn it the hard way later. or maybe, we don’t even have later, all we have is right now and that’s (for me) right now.

so in light of this dark realization and with very little time remaining, i’ve made a shortlist of my originally long and unbelievably impossible to do bucket list. some are very specific (applicable for me) but some are general and vague (and possible applicable for you) so here i (we?) go ~

just clean my room ~ and not the clean the mess by making another mess somewhere else. i mean really really clean the room you can leave behind without looking back even if you knew it would be the last time you leave it. clean the shit out of my room with my pseudo-self-diagnosed oc-neat-freak tendencies;

give away my stuff ~ and not just what i don’t want to have or can spare to lose. i mean give anything and everything i won’t need and can’t use anymore, or even if i could but i know someone else could use much better and would need much more;

organize all my files ~ and not just store it in random temporary folders with names or arrangements that make no logical sense when viewed sometime later. i mean have a system for sorting, saving and naming all my files that makes sense to anyone who might happen to come across or have my external hard drive;

close all loose ends ~ and not just the happy conversations and goodbye messages to people that i once held near and dear. i mean take the first step to talk, resolve and have closure for everyone that i was either terrified of or indifferent to and let everything be said and done once and for all;

don’t put off, do ~ and not just what you are simply too tired or lazy to do, i mean do the things you are afraid of doing because you think you can’t or just won’t, or because you don’t know or want to face whatever the consequence of what you would have done would be;

go on an adventure ~ alone, but not just by myself alone or with me and my quandaries. i mean me and the universe, a trip where i go somewhere and i actually pay attention to where i am, and be where i am. to go somewhere where i can just be me and just be, and maybe find out and find who i really am;

go on another adventure ~ but not just alone this time. i mean go somewhere with people i really want to spend time with. i can name a few, the only few i really would love to. somewhere near here and where we could just hang out and talk, or somewhere out there, where we could see the world or wherever we could take each other;

just go, let go ~ and not just walking away but looking back and leaving your mind and heart. i mean go because you know it’s time to go and there is no going or looking back, and let go because you know it’s no longer something for you to have, not even the life you had;

don’t forget, say goodbye ~ and not just saying it. i mean meaning it. so don’t forget me, and goodbye.

disclaimer: while there is still time, i might be adding on or taking off some stuff on the list. i guess we’ll see, we got time right?

~ a.k.a.cross with two months but not counting

p.s. oh btw, i meant ‘leave’ not live, as in i have two months before i leave from Philippines for New Zealand, maybe for good. XD i’m not sorry for the misunderstanding though, coz you could still do what i’ll be doing and more. to leave or to live, it makes no difference for what and why we do the things that we do, when you will still have only the time you have, whether you are leaving for another place or to that ‘other’ place. so good luck to us if you will too, and if not, still God bless you. o;

[iamnotoki]

confessuns (confession sundays) #4 ~ He is me . .

. . not chained by desire through the air of freedom without life in life, beyond the world and heat of emotions with no life in a cold empty body, no delight in a self that purely does not exist.

~ a.k.a.cross is He no more

p.s. who are you? tell me, i’m here and i’m listening.

[iamnotoki]

confessuns (confession sundays) #3 ~ words, melodies and feelings . .

I get it, I get it. I can hear it, I can even feel it at times. I mean, I know they mean something and I sometimes understand what it's supposed to mean. It's just that . . I don’t always pay attention, not really. And when I do, it doesn't mean anything to me, at all.

~ a.k.a.cross not meaning anything

p.s. what does it mean to you?

[iamnotoki]

iam (info about me) #1 ~ i am God . .

. . and so are you. in the same way a grain of sand is the whole beach, or a drop of water is the whole ocean, or a breath of air is the whole sky, and even a single star is the whole universe. we are in God as much as God is in us, we are God as much as God is us. so that in the end, as it was in the beginning . . there is no i nor we, there is just God and He.

~ a.k.a.cross god mode

p.s. you tumb tumbs don’t believe me? ask Alan Watts and you will see.

[iamnotoki]

CONFESSUNS (Confession Sundays) #2 ~ the woman i loved in silence from a distance. . no more

“I miss you . .” she texted in the middle of the night and between the silence of my mind. Had those words cross my phone and my eyes once ago, my heart would have leapt and from my lips to my fingertips fly across the keypad to shout across the night sky and through the glimmer of her phone into her eyes ~ “I miss you too . . more than you could ever imagine or feel.” in more words that I could ever mutter with a love that I could barely even muster. 

But that was then, when I had love in my heart . . or to be perfectly precise, back when I had a heart. For what actually happened next in the empty story of my reality was what happens to each and every chapter, which is nothing really. No giddy elation that would normally be the wings in my soul, nor tingling sensations that would usually be the glisten in my skin, not even the butterflies that always found home in my stomach.

All I felt or found was how much I couldn’t care about something and someone, not even the love I once held for someone in silence and from a distance. Yes, I confess that there was such a time when I loved someone in the secrecy of my own words and in the territory of my own world. She was the one and only 12 out of 13 (Happy Marriage Potential) of the ladies in my heart and my life. The epitome of falling in love and the muse of this post ~

“i fell in love with the glimmer in her eyes, and how they made me see for one so blind that in one infinitesimal moment in my life i was the only one in the infinite universe in hers. i fell in love with the blades of her fingertips, and how they made me feel for one so lost in life that i was where i belong and her skin dancing on mine was where they found home. i fell in love with the care in her words, and how they made me hear for one so deafened by chaos that i found peace in the way she said my name no matter how empty that effigy will always be.”

A love for her that may not have been romantic nor platonic, but a love for her nevertheless and never any less. I may have loved others before, during and after her, but that doesn’t make my love any less for those others and especially for her. I loved her with a love that I could not have or give to anyone else. It was for me to have for her. And now that there is no more I, there is no love to be had. And I’m not even mad or sad.

And the fact that I can say it for a fact, is proof of how much I don’t care about what I say anymore and how much I don’t feel about anyone. No nothings . . no feelings for the woman I loved in silence from the distance . . no more.

~ A. K. A. Cross with thereisnomorei thisisitthis thetruthaboutloveisnot

[queerasian-blog]

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ngl when i heard about the candy cane striped capris Blaine was talking about, I thought the joke was that his come was what made them white