One More Hopeless Romantic...

Crush. Rush. Hush. Push.

(If you read that as crush, rush, hush and puh-sh, I shall laugh at you. It's PUSH. :P Hahaha. Anyway.)

Crush. Do I dare, or do I not? I wouldn't know. Even if I miss the feeling of giddiness, and I'm running out of giddy books to read. Until now, that line from The California Club still applies - "It's the one thing that you want most in the world... And you're not willing to take a risk?"

But let me rethink. IS it the one thing I want most in the world? Goodness, I want a whole lot of things, so it's hard to keep track. Sometimes, I'm jolted by something, and then I remember, "Hey, I wanted that." Yeah. I'm weird that way. But a dear, dear friend tells me, "You're irreplacable that way." So maybe today, the word crush turns into something else. It's no longer (or maybe just for the moment, it isn't) the crush that connotes a feeling of giddiness and messages of "I love you's." No, today, I'm literally crushed. Crushed by an overwhelming number of emotions - and boy, don't you just hate when that happens? - but mainly just one.

Crushed by the good. I was reading through my saved messages last night (I save messages that make me feel nice. Call me baduy, I don't care.), and I realized that the Youth stand united in hurt - because of all the hurt each one has gone through. Those hurts have led us all to try our best to change the world of and/or for someone. We are driven by our hopes that another may not go through the same hurt as we have gone through. Or, if God really chooses it, we accept it, but we stick by the person, that they may not go through it alone, as we might or might not have. To have been a recipient of such show of affection and unity - even if it's only during major storms (during my sharing, from Kathy, Joni and most everyone), or if it's during my everyday drizzles (from Leo, Abbey and Kev) - has been such a great honor and a great sensation that sometimes, I kind of wonder when it'll start raining again. (Just wondering, not wishing. :P) To have been needed or appreciated for such a miniscule task (such as being the scribe for Project YEild, or contributing a minor alteration to a module, or even coming up with a 10-minute script) is such a little miracle in disguise. I appreciate every tiny mutter of gratitude - they help heal me, strengthen me, prepare me for my next step.

Rush. Goodness, gracious, great balls of fire (thank you, thank you very much)! My schedule is... Un-be-freakin'-lieve-able. Let me put it this way. I've got the Youth activities that I try as much as possible to attend. I've got the yearbook meetings every Friday, and its deadlines hardly a month apart from each other. I've got four to five different presentations due for Filipino - all due within the last three to four weeks of the first quarter. I've got a courtroom drama T.V. show script to write, and then to film, also due the same time. Then there's the UPCAT in early August. If you think about it, almost everything's happening or due at the same time. Calendars and clocks are almost literally biting at my heels, urging me on. I'm not even supposed to have time to write, but I couldn't help it.

Hush. How I wish the world would say that to me. I just want to go back to my silence, even for just a little while. Back to my cool silence, where I'm wrapped by my soft, warm blanket and pillows. Back to my calm silence, where I'm curled up with a good book. Back to my dreamy silence, where my imagination continues to thrive - even in my sleep. But, time is of the essence, and all I can do is pray for a chance to hush.

Push. That's all I've got left to do. I'll keep pushing up this hill - no, mountain if I have to (and I really have to). I believe this mountain is not endless. At some point, I'll reach the peak, where the air presure is so unbearable, and I'll be too tired to even sit. And when I do reach the peak, I'll have nowhere to go but down again. Down to my level and balanced plains and fields - bumpless, rockless, smooth and soothing for my tired lungs and aching feet. Then, and only then, will I be able to stop pushing my boulder without having to fear it rolling towards me to squish me, or rolling far away from me to leave me purposeless.

I'll just have to trust Him. Or not. I don't have to. Because I already do.

















Crushed by beauty.
Rushed by time.
Hushed by the stillness.
Pushed by the climb.
(my sister and my cousin running along the beach of Antique at dusk)

posted by krizia @ 5:12 AM