grub + travels + perspectives

Flickering rain, wavering sun

The sun is finally here.

Spent three days indoors, eyes and ears glued to the television, faces illuminated with the streams of light, gasping in unison as horrors unfold before our very eyes. People climbing to their roofs as it was the only higher land, infants partially wrapped in plastic just so they won't be wet and, dogs left to swim for their lives in those strong water currents. Slowly, they are drifted towards an unknown with no one to save them. How heartbreaking. For that certain moment, we all pray for the safety of everyone, even ourselves, the ones in more comfort, the ones drier and safer. I know I'm in no position to whine (even though we consumed nothing but canned goods and processed food the entire time we're stuck at home, making me think I already ate 3 months worth of sodium) because I am nowhere near what other people experienced.

We all know history repeats itself, but, we thought that only happens in a smaller scale. Like a heartbreak from a relationship, getting a flat tire, unintentionally leaving your wallet at home or trusting somebody you knew from the very start you shouldn't. But never like this. A national catastrophe that left some homeless and even took lives of loved ones, and being in an roller coaster of emotions. Nothing like this again. Experiencing the same emotions that you had way back 2009 (Typhoon Ondoy). Not knowing when this will stop, where do we get help and how do we start over. Vulnerability all over again.

In times like these, you sort of make a mental note of your should haves, would haves and could haves. I know I made one. I wanted to go home and be with my family. I wanted to see our dog and make sure he's alright. I should've been inside my room, lying in my bed, counting the first few raindrops until I feel the water crawling up my feet. At least I was there, with them. I should've left a long time ago but I was too scared to start all over again. Now, it feels like time is an anchor weighing me down. And I'm scared I won't be able to make it to land and experience all things I've never experienced.

You stop and think about all the chaos and what do you do to justify your existence. After quite a while, you had too much time in your hands and heads that you can't help but think about things that you didn't had the time to think about before. You puff the smoke you last inhaled, twirl the cigarette secured between your fingers, stare at the continuous pouring rain and hope tomorrow will be brighter.

Then your thoughts drift to the situations that you completely have no control over. Like water slipping through your hands, awkward moments with some random acquaintance you shared a ride with, muscle spams under your eyes. Like this monsoon rain that swept the country for three days, you can't do anything about it, just let it happen, let it take its course then let it go.

The sun is up. Maybe today is unlike most days. Maybe today you can do something different. Maybe today is another day towards the same thing you never thought will ever unfold again. We'll never know. We just have to live one day at a time, extending the same kindness, empathy, love, consideration to other people as well as to yourself.

The commotion may be all around you or just inside your head, it may be something that happened before or something you're not familiar. Whatever the magnitude, it will be over soon. Always.

The sun is up. Finally.