I find my listlessness rattling.

Prescription Pads

Majority of the diseases now are psychosomatic, experts say.

Psychosomatic - that the illness no longer stems from organic or physical damage, but that is brought by the head.

 

It's all in the mind.

 

But the prescription pads still tell the same thing.

 

Take antidepressants, take antibiotics.

Something for your heart.

Something for high sugar.

Something for the liver.

A painkiller. A decongestant.

 

If I were a doctor, I'd write people one, differently.

 

On the prescription pad:

 

I'll draw them a flower. It's always the easiest to draw. And you can never go wrong, they're always beautiful.

 

I'll write them poetry. It will take time to rhyme. But that's just to say there may not be all the right words to say something, but there will always be a way.

 

I'll tell them to run in the rain. If they cant sit down and cry, they can run in the rain and no one will really notice.

 

I'll write a recipe. I can write a recipe on how to bake cinnamon rolls the wrong way. Bake cookies till they get charcoal black. That might tell you it's okay to make mistakes. It doesn't taste good, but you can have a good laugh with it. Try baking a cake, if it goes wrong, then its for you. If it's good enough, share it with someone. 

 

I'll put a reminder - that you can learn how to do things without people really teaching you how to do it. Remember how babies learn to smile or laugh? How?

 

I'll tell them to write a story. Life isn't short. It is the longest thing people will ever get to experience. Life isn't short, but it happens only once. So while people can't live another life, they can read about it. And if there's a life you can no longer live, then you can write about it.

 

Forgive. It's the best prescription I got for myself.

 

Take a long walk. The world is round after all. If you have all the time, you will never get lost.

 

If you can't take a sheet from me, I'll give you an empty one, and you can write me back. Tell me what you need. Most people just need someone to hear them out after all, and we have all the empty sheets for that.

 

What pills do your prescription pads say?

 

If we all write one for the people we love, cant we all be doctors? Can't we all save a life?

 

Psychosomatic.

 

The prescription pads are interesting. They are papers like any other.

 

But maybe if we write one differently, then we also heal another way.

___________________________

I was in the home of a colleague a while ago, sharing about the love for books. I opened up a book, and saw a prescription pad, quite disappointed that it was a real prescription, other than something more interesting.

Might we write one differently?

Why is title a required field?

How do you break silence? What is silence made of anyway?

Is it made of glass - is it fragile, will you shatter it?
Is it calm as the sea? Or is it the stagnant water?

Or is silence the atmospheric vacuum? Is it the void that prevents you from being heard while you are already screaming from within?

Why do I want to break silence?

Why do I say things through questions?

You don't need a gun if you believe in repair.

I want it so badly.

Dreams vs. Goals

I am forgetting, I am neglecting to think hard(er?).

Dreams are different from goals. They may pertain to the same things, but they in themselves are two distinct concepts.

Dreams may or may not be achievable. But when you set goals, they should always be bound in the realm of reality.

Dreams may happen while you are sleeping. You can dream too, while you're awake. But as for goals, they are only achievable in our conscious hours.

Dreams can suddenly become real. You may sometimes not expect them to happen, and they surprise you when they do. But goals are consciously set and attained. Goals require someone to be driven and proactive.

Nobody says that they are dream-oriented. There is something commendable about being goal-oriented. When dreams become real, you have to thank someone/something for making it possible. You do not brag about deserving dreams which turn into reality. But when goals are achieved, you have yourself to thank for, and God for endowing you the capacity to achieve those goals.

Then it hits me, I am dreaming too much.

I know dreams too well. Dreams are built of nimble hopes and expectations, continually wavering.

We are all taught to dream. We are often asked what we dream about. But are they really worth the time? Do dreams not change depending on circumstance?

Rare have good friends talked about goals. For dreams are lofty and make souls wander, thus making them a fancy conversation piece. That's what friends do. They get you to places you have never set foot on.

But goals make the experience of being human, real and tangible. They sometimes are frustrating. They are sometimes victorious.

I can no longer count how many dreams I have let go of. But I can name the goals I achieved.

Dreams are like cascading clouds that dissipate and leave things as they were.

But goals, whether they be met or be failed in reaching, weathers the man and changes him.

Dreams are invisible jackets that warm the soul. But they are not worth anything. Goals turn themselves into something real. Goals are what becomes of the man.

2011 and beyond are built of goals, and less of dreams.

Somewhere in this village, I have full-grown men as neighbors getting themselves drunk so bad and listening to Natasha Beddingfield's soulmate.

Cloud Seeding

Could it be possible that time is relative to size - that the smaller you are, the longer time seems?

Wait, first up, if I were to subscribe to the idea of scientific inquiry, I would not believe that time exists as something observable - only symptoms or associations of it are within the grasp of the human mind. If you refute otherwise, then tell me how time per se, physically manifests itself - has it odor, color, weight, length, size, dimension? Time, for me, rather, is a term which we delegate to link countless isolated events, thereby creating instead, a continuum. Time exists in the universe, but the universe does not exist in time. Time is an abstracted idea, no different from love or integrity, by which we have created a standard to measure.

But anyway, here I go....

This year feels it has passed me by. It feels too soon. I remember when I was younger, the waiting for Christmas tested my patience. Anticipation for it, and the gifts that I would receive, was painful. But here I go now, surprised that Christmas is again, just around the corner...and wond'ring where all the time went.

Is it not confusing how something constant in its lapse, be evaluated differently? Why does time feel shorter as one gets older?

I will stop believing in karma, and begin to believe in forgiveness. Karma is bitter and passive. Forgiveness is benign indifference.