Happy Clutter

Today my mind is cluttered by thoughts of love, by thoughts of forgiving, forgetting, and letting go of the hurt. Then I realized I am wasting time; wasting time in thinking the "what if's" of those things that already happened. It is a warfare of my thoughts whether I will dwell into the refreshment of friendship ruined by a misinterpretation of love or whether I will not dwell into it at all.

It is but a normal reaction to be moronized by love. "Moronized" was the term I coy from our Philosophy class, whereas we agreed that it will be used as the act of being a moron due to an external force or urge. And that urge is what I call love. I am clouded on what I must prioritize because of this. A simple act of him coming back is such a great quake in my almost peaceful life. Today I may say that I am decaying into a moron again, which I must NOT permit myself to.

I am tempted to post a status about love. I am about to spill everything that I must say to him. Then a better resolution comes up to mind. Why not, NOT do it at all? What will it benefit me or him? What will other people benefit from it, if all they will read are rants and regrets regarding such an spectacular feeling called love? 

The more I learn of the things that are beneficial to the greater good, the more I set aside the lesser pleasures I have in life. And I see him as a lesser pleasure. He was the one who allowed himself to leave me, so be it. A decision once made, should be a decision he must stand for. No more points of turning back.

I changed. I know he changed as well.

Before I was ready to make my world revolve around him. Today I made a world without him in it. For him to show up out of nowhere is such a desperate act. Is he not aware that I am alright, better than alright without him? What is the point of coming back? Friendship? Well that is pathetic. I have high standards for friends to keep. He once debunked my idea of what love should be. And now, he is asking to regain an amiable relationship with one another. I can act as if nothing happened. But I cannot promise that I can be back to normal. A peaceful coexistence is executable. Having a casual talk with him is possible. And that's it. Nothing more.

I am happy surrounded by all the happy clutters I have in my room and in my life. There is no room for him to be a recycled clutter. To be fair, he once made me happy. But now, I see him as a clutter alone, no more trace of him making me happy for he continuously flood my mind with moments I do not want to remember anymore; with clutter I do not want to clean once more.

Stupid am I to clean a mess I already fixed. I am happy, give me time to have a better state, until I can forgive you, until we can forgive one another.

Cathedral Restoration

It has been a long time since I last entered my hometown's cathedral. It was as if all the prayers that I whispered before reverberated upon my ears; prayers such as passing an exam in Mathematics, entering UP,  surpassing a petty problem of love, and many more, which as of the moment I do not remember.

As usual I was late and I did not pay much attention on what our priest was saying, pardon me for that. I usually observe people in church. Thoughts of how I envy their faith rush in. I saw a woman who knelt even if it was time for all of the people to stand up. I became so curious of how heavy her problem was or how heavy her faith was.  Then there were some who sang "Ama Namin" with eyes closed, and sang it on the top of their voices.

Our cathedral was so different compared to the last time I saw it. There were thick pale-colored lines on its ceiling, indicating that the church will have a paint restoration. There was a tall, steel, barricade near the altar, almost blocking the view of the Holy Cross. Things like these, distracted me. So many people love the church, and that is it.

Beside me was an envelope which I do not know where it belongs, maybe to the old woman who sat beside me. The back of the envelope has a printed message saying, CATHEDRAL RESTORATION, where one must indicate the specified amount that one gave to the church. Accompanied by these words are assurances that the church will pray for the things that one wants them to pray. Like praying for the soul of your departed loved ones, praying for the health of those who are sick, and other things that one may find necessary to be prayed for.

Then at that point I realized, the church is rich because many are willing to give. And what can the church give in return aside from prayers and a well restored cathedral?

There I thought that the church is such a magnificent and hypnotizing place, where one may feel the kindness crawling inside his veins the very moment he is inside the church. But this kind of sensation only last when one is inside the church, and as one walks further and further away of it, comes a rushing deteriorating feeling of kindness. To this point one may see what he is really obligated to do, and that is to face reality; that is to face life, for life is not confined in the church which gives one the illusion that he is kind, that life is always kind.

Paradoxically speaking, people love devotion and not compassion. They love being in church, pacifying all the luxury that the church demands; wine, gold, bread, and coins. feeding them the idea that they are good because they gave something to the church; because they did something for the church. And yes, they did something but is it long lasting? Does it reach the greater good that God is looking for? Does this short term good that one gave to the church reached God himself?

It is so sad to experience that after such an invigorating experience in the church, after drinking in the cup of wine and eating His holy bread, later on after mass, you will see children with fragrant garlands on their hands asking for the same coins you put in the basket. They are asking for these same coins so that they too, could drink not wine, but potent water, could eat not just bread but rice, could achieve that same decent life you live upon an hour inside the church.

Maybe upon saying these I am sinful in the eyes of those who are devoted to devotion, but still I believe that true compassion is seen not in the grandeur of the church but in the simplicity of pure and lasting intentions.

Maybe the church needs more restoration than its facade demands, and so is the case when it comes to my faith. Faith not in God, but in our church, which needs so much work to be labeled as His own.