the backstage epiphany

where reality is so subjective it's entirely optional

Monthly Archives: June 2007

Giving up

Is it really such a shameful thing to do? Is it wrong to say, “I can’t do this anymore; I’ve had enough,” and just let it all go? But what if we had no other choice? Do we soldier on and try to make the best of a bad situation, knowing that we’re just setting ourselves up for failure and disappointment, or do we raise our heads high, admit defeat, and start all over again?

Is it really such a shameful thing to do? Is it wrong to say, “I can’t do this anymore; I’ve had enough,” and just let it all go? But what if we had no other choice? Do we soldier on and try to make the best of a bad situation, knowing that we’re just setting ourselves up for failure and disappointment, or do we raise our heads high, admit defeat, and start all over again?

I used to be absolutely determined to be on my own, build my own life, and depend on nobody but myself. But maybe because of the recent turn of events that have my parents suggesting more and more often that I go home to them, I’m beginning to be extremely tempted to just give up my whole life here, pack everything (well, just the clothes, bags and shoes) up, and go home. While the mere thought of going home and being taken care of again by the parents used to repulse and horrify me, it’s now looking rather appealing.

But then, no matter how strong the temptation is to go home, it pales to the galling thought of starting life from scratch again, and the overwhelming number of obligations that I have yet to fulfill here: the money I have yet to make and bring home, the people I have to care for, the life I could still have a chance to live. Am I willing to give up my freedom and my independence to go back to a life under constant scrutiny and criticism just because I’m facing a few hurdles that are taking a little longer than usual to overcome?

In the end, we all do what we have to. Whether it’s quitting the job that’s consuming every last breath in our body, moving halfway across the world to get away from the memories of that hideous relationship, or letting that certain person go because we know nothing can come out of hanging on to them, we do what’s given to us to do. Because we know that in time, we will heal, and we know that at least we tried, and at least we could stop ourselves just in time to say, “Enough is enough.”

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Waiting

It seems as though that’s all I’ve been doing these days.

Waiting for the tide to turn, watching in increasing desperation and agony as it wavers in my favor and then away from it, in one vicious cycle.

Waiting for a sign from God to tell me everything will eventually work out.

In a nutshell, waiting for a bloody miracle.

It’s enough to make anyone shake the teeth out of me and bellow, “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!”

Excerpts from Jeanne Kalogridis’s The Borgia Bride:

“Come with us,” I urged. “Alfonso and I have missed you terribly. There is nothing here for you anymore; Father is not even aware of who surrounds him. We can hire servants to care for him.”

Wistfully, she shook her head, then lowered her face and stared down at her pale, graceful hands, placed one atop the other in her lap. “I miss you both as well. But I cannot leave him. You do not understand, Sancha.”

“You are right,” I said curtly. I was furious with my father, for the spell he had cast over her, for the fact that, even insane and seemingly helpless, he was able to make such a good person miserable. “I do not understand. He has betrayed his family and his people, yet you remain loyal to him. Your children adore you, and will do everything possible to make you happy; all he can give you is hurt.” I hesitated, then with great emotion, asked the question that had troubled me my whole life. “How could you ever have loved a man so cruel?”

Trusia lifted her chin at that, and regarded me intensely; her voice held a trace of indignance, and I understood that the depth of her love for my father transcended all else. “You speak as though I had a choice,” she said.

*     *     *

I fear, yet hope; I burn, and am ice.

My voice failed. Abruptly overwhelmed by emotion, I turned my face away; I closed the little book and set it down beside me on the cushion. The words described perfectly what I had felt when I had locked gazes with the handsome cardinal; once again I experienced a helpless rush of feeling. Memory summoned the image my mother’s face, the sound of her voice, for once defiant: You speak as though I had a choice. At last, I understood what she meant.

As though I had a choice.

Breathe and reboot

Has been an extremely long day. Came home at 11:30AM from the a car wash at Delta Sonic to discover that something had happened to the poor computer, causing all 150GB of music, movies, pictures and software to be completely deleted from the storage drive. Thank God was able to enlist Darren’s help in reformatting the hard drive. Fortunately, the faithful old laptop still had music and software in it, so was able to retrieve that, but because have not used the laptop since getting the desktop last September, ended up spending a few good hours downloading music and software that had been attained in the last nine months. So now the computer is delightfully fast again, but totally devoid of any photos or movies, and am now downloading the entire first season of Brothers & Sisters all over again.

Thank you for seeing the good in me
Thank you for giving me the benefit of the doubt
Thank you for not passing judgment so quickly
Thank you for being here at this point in my life
When my light’s gone, you’re my dawn

What’s the point?

What’s the point of living when you live a cursed life?

What’s the point of eating when you know you’ll only throw it all back up?

What’s the point of waiting when you know it might never come?

What’s the point of crying when you know your tears won’t change anything?

What’s the bloody point?

In the right frame of mind

For these two new acquisitions
Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Courage (Hindi written in Sanskrit)

Strength (Hindi written in Sanskrit)