Lost

Song of the moment: Crestfallen by The Smashing Pumpkins



Who am I to need you when I'm down
Where are you when I need you around
Your life is not your own


And all I ask you
Is for another chance
Another way around you
To live by circumstance, once again


Who am I to need you now
To ask you why to tell you no
To deserve your love and sympathy
You were never meant to belong to me


And you may go, but I know you won't leave
Too many years built into memories
Your life is not your own


Who am I to need you now
To ask you why to tell you no
To deserve your love and sympathy
You were never meant to belong to me


Who am I to you?
Along the way
I lost my faith


And as you were, you'll be again
To mold like clay, to break like dirt
To tear me uo in your sympathy
You were never meant to belong to me
You were never meant to belong to me
You were never meant to belong to me


Who am I?





Today is the second of November in the Philippines, aka "All Souls Day". To honor those that died in our family, we light up four candles: one for my grandfather, Armado Mendador who died on Christmas Eve (I was four), one for my birth father, Nilo Alba who died on Valentines Day (I was three), another for my step-dad, Charles Lacy who died sometime when I was 11. The fourth one is for my current step-dad's mom that died last year.


What really goes on after death? I am just completely clueless and stumped as the next person, yet we all still keep pondering over what death really is. Is there "life" after death? Is there a heaven? A hell? Or are just left to decompose into the dirt and become part of mother nature? If so, then why do we all strive to live in the first place... are we just determined to make our mark on the world and somehow "make a difference", or do we just have nothing better to do? What the hell.


Here I stand, playing with the flames of my grandfather's candle. My grandmother once had a dream of a flame. It was burning ever so wildly, yet the closer and closer she got, the weaker the flame became. Her last glimpse of the flame before it died was a vision of my grandfather's face smiling back at her. As I run my fingers through this flame, I hope to somehow get a glimpse of my grandfather. I have burned myself a few times, and the tips of my fingers have gone black from the flame's fumes. I have the sudden urge to lick the flame, yet I'm a little too smart to go that far. If I was dumb and curious enough, I would. Yet.. if given the circumstance of a dare, a dare that would bring my grandfather back to life, I would do it in an instant. I would do anything to have him back for just one minute, just to see his face in person once again and be honored in his mighty presence.


In reflection to this song, what the hell am I doing wishing these sinful wishes? Who am I to have these selfish thoughts of bringing my grandfather back to life? What if he's happy right now, wherever he is, and I'm just sitting here, hoping he would come back to me.... disturbing his peace.... making him worried that his family back on Earth is not satisfied with his death? Or is it just me? I feel like everyone else has moved on from these deaths, and I'm just left behind alone, feeling depressed and mournful. I know life is a beautiful thing to waste, yet I'm just sitting here... withering away, letting my life pass me by as I dolefully think of the memories before me. And such wonderful memories, they are.


The seasons of Fall and Winter are the very few things that understand and replicate these feelings that I feel. The loveliness of the colors of Fall symbolizes the withering hope and beauty of what I feel. I am still thankful of the things around me, and I value all the beauty that touches my soul, yet each peice of leaf on my tree of hope is slowly falling off. And one day, just one day, there will no longer be any leaves on my tree and I will be nothing. I will be Winter. Bitter coldness, indignant darkness, obscure nothingness.


I used to dream of someone rescuing me from this disaster. Yet, I feel that the only person that could have saved me died long ago... taking my soul with him. He is the only person that I look up to, yet he has been gone for 12 years and counting. Did my faith go away with him? Am I just a peice of nothingness, hidden behind the skin and flesh of my body? Or am I just exagerrating the sadness that I feel from his absence?


I don't know... I don't know. All I know is that I am supposed to feel, and to live, and to be happy. "Supposed to" isn't good enough for me. I want more, I want it all. The ability to love, to feel, to be accepted as myself. I want him... I want him back. He was the only person that made me feel that way, that made me feel so special, so unique. He was the only one that would look at me with a sparkle in his eye. Everytime he looked at me, all he had was love. He was never disappointed of me, he was never mad at me, he was always just proud. I was his favorite. I could have done nothing to disappoint him. I was his angel.


With him gone, I feel torn, lost, confused and unaccepted. I think about the day I will finally be reunited with him, yet am forbidden to plot ways of making that day come sooner. If I tweek the power of fate, I may never see him again. So here I am, telling you my story from day to day. But everyday is just another excruciating moment in which I have to endure and wait for that point in which my grandfather and I will finally be together once again. And I patiently wait here, hoping he would still be proud of his little girl. =)