Blog

The War Within

Our decisions make us. We become who we are because of the decisions we make. They are mirrors of our persona. In truth, they become determinants of our destinies and futures.

We cannot escape them. We cannot do without them. Many times, we try to avoid them for more often than not, they exact a toll of pain and discomfort we could very well do without. But doing so, as we have by now learned, brings about consequences that make things worse. A decision not made is often regretted. A decision delayed becomes more painful in the making.

It is here that we realize the inevitability of decisions in life – along with the internal conflict that each decision brings. It is also here that we come to know fighting with one’s self in arriving at a decision helps us discover who we really are, helps us understand better the persons we are.

When faced with that “fork in the road” when a choice must be made, our minds and hearts go to work – which path is better, the one well taken, perhaps easier, or the one less taken, more uncertain and perhaps riskier. The quality of “better” as far as decisions are concerned is really subjective. What one perceives as “better” defines his uniqueness, his difference from others.

This inner struggle and the long road to a decision that must be made is what the hurting, wistful, and self-searching man in the poem Tonight I can write the saddest lines by Pablo Neruda faces.

And what a decision it is. For it involves the most salient of all human emotions – love, or in this case, the loss of it. He honors his lost love by grieving over it. But his grief threatens to shackle him to the past, to keep him chained to the martyrdom of a tragic lover forever pining for something that is lost and gone. The choices are there: to let go and move on, or to stay in that dark corner of loneliness, choosing “loyalty” to the haunting images and memories of what once was.

For one removed from the emotional entanglement of any decision, it is easy to make the rational choice. But for one caught in it, the experience of deciding is torment and agony itself.

What makes a decision so difficult? The dilemmas may all boil down to these: the perception that available solutions are almost of equal value or desirability, the tension of opposites personified by the never-ending tug of war between the mind and the heart, or a collision of interests, that of the person and that of affected others.

There was a point in my life where I too was faced with such decision. It is not just about thinking ahead and then go with which ever path favors you. It is never as easy, because what is easier may not really be the course your heart would be willing to take. The choices were either I would move on and have a better life or lament on a dying relationship. The clear choice was moving on, contrary to what people encouraged me to do, I stood still and watch myself be devoured by destruction. I felt satisfaction in the pain that I was in, for I know to myself that I was not ready.

“I loved her and sometimes she loved me too.” (6) The man was not such a fool. He did know that there was imbalance in the relationship, that he deserved more than what he was getting – being loved when the woman perhaps only felt like it. Yet, he gave back love that was consistent and unconditional. Did he love himself less by loving her more? Was he torn between the classic decision horns of want versus need? He needed to love himself more but wanted to have her, despite the punishing relationship she brought along. How many decisions have been rendered full of anguish by the pulls of want and need? The failure to distinguish one from the other has left many caught in a constant state of craving and disappointment. Was his ego at play here, to prop up his identity and manhood at the expense of self-respect? Only he can accurately describe or perhaps justify his willingness to accept the way things were. And perhaps tell us now whether he is able to see the line between want and need.

Reason versus emotion, the heart versus the head, the eternal human battle fought day in and day out – the stuff of life itself. The man who says he can write the saddest lines is not spared this at all. Rather, he is thrust into the very core of this controversy.

“My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her” (30) – almost a classic human cry of lost love through the ages. It still resounds today. The man knows that it is over. Reason tells him that while he is allowed to lick his wounds, he should move on and let time start the healing process of forgetting. But while reason prods him, his emotions hold him fast. He clings on, to memories and old longings. Emotions anchor him down and he knows this, stating his continuing love for the vanished one. The very fact that sadness rules him, that he can write the saddest lines, betrays his choice.

Dale Carnegie, that renowned author, would have told him – Know the facts, make a decision, act on it. Dale would have told him that while he indulged his heart, it was time for the head to come in and restore the balance of things. Knowing the facts implies a function of the head for the heart can easily overrule facts. But even Dale would have known that when it comes to decisions involving love, his three-stage saying would be up against formidable opposition. For love dwells in the territory of the heart itself and the head is but an intruder. Which is why the cliché “go with your heart” usually wins out in the end. It is also usually the more popular choice for everyone sympathizes with the one who goes where the heart leads, and usually castigates the one who uses the head as a cold, heartless fish unworthy of love at all.

But it is not in love alone where the struggle between the heart and the mind takes place. Rather, it occurs practically everywhere in life. In the end, the defining factor is which one the person chooses. For one seeking to know himself or herself more, finding out which is valued and followed more – the head or the heart – reveals volumes.

A collision of interests also muddles up the decision process for many. Personal interest versus the common welfare, in other words. “I no longer love her, that’s certain, but maybe I love her” (27). A study in contradiction, how can the words “certain” and “maybe” coexist in a common context? When they manifest themselves in this manner, they show an agony of confusion. For our lover in the poem, his choice of the heart is becoming clearer with each line. It is in his interest to dwell on his pain, to extend the mourning over his loss, even deify or exalt his lost love. Common interest on the other hand tells him that he should move on. Moving on will improve strained relationships with others uneasy and unsure of how to relate to a man mooning over lost love. And moving on becomes a practical choice not only because it will redound to the good of others but because in the end, it does him good too.

Many decisions are made because the impact and effect on others important to the person are considered. The issue of the man and his relationship with others is unclear in the poem since his struggle takes place in the setting of solitude. But transposing him to practical and normal life would necessarily bring others out of the shadows and tells us that a person can know more of himself or herself from interaction with others who provide him mirrors to his true self.

Whatever choices are made, whatever decisions are adopted, whether the heart or the head wins, in the end, there is always some degree of clarity that emerges, clarity in the matter of a person’s values and clarity in some facet of the personality.

And it is also clear that a person has to throw himself into the struggle of decisions to find out the answers to questions important to him. It is by doubting one’s self, seeing and accepting one’s limitations, and knowing what can and cannot be changed that one grows and understands himself better.

This is something the man in the poem has yet to discover. His romanticism rules him for the moment and perhaps when the veils of emotion lift, he may come to see with greater clarity all that has been clouded by the heavy mists of memories and unrewarded longings.

attribute of today's realization

for him, whom ever I loved most.

January 28, 2010

Four brothers left home for college, and they became successful doctors and lawyers and prospered. Some years later, they chatted after having dinner together. They discussed the gifts they were able to give their elderly mother who lived far away in another city.

The first said,"I had a big house built for Mama."

The second said,"I had a hundred thousand dollar theater built in the house."

The third said,"I had my Mercedes dealer deliver an SL600 to her."

The fourth said,"You know how mamma loved reading the Bible and you know she can't read anymore because she can't she very well. I met this preacher who told me about a parrot that can recite the entire bible. It took twenty preachers 12 years to teach him. I had to pledge to contribute $100,000 a year for twenty years to the church, but it was wort it. Mama just has to name the chapter and verse and the parrot will recite it." The other brothers were impressed.

After the holidays Mom sent out her Thank You notes. She wrote:

"Milton, the house you built is so huge. I live in only one room, but i have to clean the whole house. Thanks anyway."

"Marvin, I am too old to travel. I stay home, i have my groceries delivered, so i never use the Mercedes. The thought was good. Thanks."

"Michael, you gave me anexpensive theater with Dolby sound, it could hold 50 people, but all of my friends are dead. I've lost my hearing and I'm nearly blind. I'll never use it. Thank you or the gesture just the same."

"Dearest Melvin, you were the only son to have the good snese to give a little thought to your gift.

The chicken was delicious. Thank you."

File case: Murder with Injustice
Killer: Lottie "pangit" (dog)


- picture of the dog at her own home.

-the dog caught resting after the wild goose chase.

-the dog posing in our bed.

-the dog looking and waiting for probable prey.VICTIM: chirpie (maya bird)






Location of crime: Backyard
Jury's decision: GUILTY!
Statement of an eye-witness:

Do not be fooled, this seemingly friendly dog has an evil heart behind the mask. In the afternoon of May 24, 2009 at exactly 3:51 pm I witnessed a crime. I was strolling along side the fence when I caught a glimpse of my dog playing with what I thought a a butterfly. So, I let her be. Seconds after, I heard a chirp. I looked back and saw (I hope my eyes were deceiving me) the bird inside my dog's mouth! I panicked and chase her away, she left the bird tormented! As I was doing my best to let the bird live, I remembered, I knew nothing of this matter. So, I stopped and let the bird took its last breath.

“I was barefooted strolling along Side Boulevard, with my sandals on my right hand and a guitar on the other.” The night was young, the place was solemn, all were calm and serene but her insides were in turmoil. She has been keeping it all in to herself and she feels no one could understand the pressure she was in. She tried to tell them, making all sort of signs but no one could ever decipher what she was trying to explain. She turned away and walked by the shore, alone, frustrated and thinking. She sat down by the gloomy tree and placed the quarter of the guitar buried in the sand. Just minutes later she returned to the group. She has now composed herself and was about to say what she was trying to portray earlier on. Everybody was silent and listening attentively, when out of the blue an odor indescribably stinky begun to occupy their nostrils. Each one of them commented on how horrible the smell was, all but one. All of them had a puzzled look on their faces. They turned with their eyes fixed on her like an eagle preying on a food!

As the wind caresses my face and as the sun light amazes my eyes, I knew then that this day would be no different. The usual stuff happened; my smooth ride soon became polluted by noise from the horns of vehicles and chatters of people. Despite the disorder, my mind is able to wander off around my memories.

Finally, I stepped out of that vehicle and begun to enter the gates of hell. I just remembered that I have no life lines left; I have consumed every valid absence a student could have. With not a moment to lose, I fast walk my way to the busy hall way of our school. My mind is nowhere close to strolling away from reality, my heart is beating faster than usual and tension is building up inside. “I cannot afford to drop out from one my classes!” I said to myself. Then, for a jiffy and with no warning, I saw him! I turned my back in an instant, was I hallucinating? The second bell rang. I snap out of it and sat at the place I call my own, my arm chair.

I tried my best to give explanations on why on earth I thought I saw him. First, I must be delusional, the pressure is taking the best of me. Second, my desire for him is greater than I thought. Thirdly, it was really him! The mindboggling question is, was it him?

Tick tack tick tack says the clock. An hour pass eight and still I could not take my thoughts off him. After ages of waiting, the bell finally rang. I got my bag, bode goodbye to my mates and left the ­oh so boring professor. From a far, I could see the very tall shadow hovering the door way. Much to my surprise, it began to rain heavily. My sight was blurry, my eyes were at its all time bigness, my eyebrows were in denial and my heart was slow to beat. My things fell on the floor, and my limbs went weak. I wanted to die right there and there. It was him, he returned.

­I could not but stand in awe. It is as if I saw something unnatural. I have been thinking of this day, but still that did me give me comfort. My eyes begun to leak, my hands in my mouth and my knees were trembling. I could not utter a word. Not a “hello”, much less an “I missed you”. I stood there, very much contented with the sight of him. Him, who have been appearing in my dreams; Him, whom I cannot stop loving; Him who is named Nobody.

I heard the bell rang again, consciousness awakened. I opened my eyes and I was in tears. My pillow was wet and the sun has risen. The clock was in tantrums and my mind was blown away. “t’was but a dream, a bitter sweet dream”, I said to myself.

As the sun resides beneath the bleak horizon, I closed my eyes and felt the air hushing through my ears and the sand sinking into my toes.Darkness and discontent invaded my vision, pushing me to a place of questionable blur.


A bitter struggle begun beyond my wildest imagination. When I thought life has nothing more to offer, it gave me an utterly harsh slap on the face. And now I am faced with a horrible leech that disrupts my being and slowly devouring my insides.

With in a moment, everything became serene. The once hostile place soon replaced by tranquility and peace. Then I felt my body breathing again. As my lungs took air, I gave out my pains. Gently, I opened my eyes and there were fog like structures that lurked around me. Though my sight had not yet recovered its full vision, the room so dark that even a dim light appeared to be a very powerful spray of white.

At that moment on, nothing seemed more real than the flash of memories that burst into my mind. Half way through, I felt a force pushing me back, hindering my way. Doubt then existed. Troubled, my thoughts were. Decisions must be made, pressure rising and stress kicking its way in. With no where to go but the path in sight, I begun to run towards the door which is now closing. A leap of faith got me through but a heart attack it almost gave me.

I question not my fear of darkness but my fear of life without light. To what shall come of life, if thy being is black as the abyss. Could that be even called living? As my thoughts wandered upon the issue, I became aware where I was.

The air was just refreshing, and the weather was astonishingly fine. It was not as hot as summer's day, nor as gloomy as September's rain. Clouds were covering sunlight’s path, creating a map which was constantly changing. The little rays pushes its way in and gives the effect of sparkle upon embracing the life forms. It is in every sense a perfect weather.

My eyes feast upon a gigantic beauty, of which I saw every day. I saw it like the first time I laid my eyes on him and this moment was no different. I saw the light descend from the heavens, giving him pride to what he is and what shall become of him. A melody so soft that only the keen of senses could identify, came into existence. No moment later, he was swaying with her. As their arms stretched to its limits, elegance and passion rise to clarity. A tantalizing voice vibrated his paralyzed feet. He wanted to dance with her, to touch her.

Sadly, she was but impossible for him to grasp. For will power alone is not enough to pursue her. Dismayed by the decision, she loathed him. She pushes him away with brute force, but he -- being the gentle hearted that he was, bent in obedience. And just like that she was gone.

Be it night or day, he thought of her, wishing that she would come back. The thought never grew old in his ever hoping mind. But the doors were now closing, and no sign of her showed. The flame that engrossed the fire was now dying. But even at this state, the melody was still whispering his hopes alive. Even if he knew it was doomed to fail from the very beginning, he showed no fear. For an eternity was not life for without her. One night, as he watched the moon turns a glow, an idea swept his mind of his feet.

I opened my eyes and I felt the sand on my toes again. As the beach tides pushed, I took a stand and begun to walk. I am now in the hill top where the man was. A tree of gigantic beauty stood its ground. And even up to this moment, I could hear the echoes of a content man dancing with glee. Only he knows precisely how satisfaction was captured that night. May he rest in peace!