Monday, September 5, 2011

No escape from reality




We all knew the story. A flying seagull once noticed a mouse, asked where its wings are, mouse didn’t answer since mouse only understand fellow mouse. The seagull thought the mouse is deaf and lonely, pitied it and took the liberty of picking it up on its beak for a ride in the skies. After a while, the seagull grew tired and carefully deposited the mouse once more on the ground. Mouse was left in gloom for many many days, for it had known the heights and seen a vast and beautiful world but was taken from it abruptly and unwillingly. In time, it grew accustomed to being the simple mouse again, thinking that the miracle of flying that occurred to it was nothing but a grand dream. 

There could be debates as to the story, question like whose fault was it really, the underscoring of the mouse’s vulnerability and delusions and the seagull’s arrogant meddlesome intentions. 

But now they don’t matter anymore. 

I’ll tell you what matters now. What matters is that I was that mouse for a very long time. I was the same mouse; alone and in gloom. But I was never mad. I was never angry of the many seagulls that came picking me, though I could not blame those mice who chose hatred afterwards. Choosing to hate is always easy. Hatred, sometimes, is best to mask the mortifying scars of loneliness and sense of defeat. I chose the road less traveled. I wallowed in my own demons, have dealt with my own rejections then walked away quietly, watching happy seagulls fly happily from afar. 

I write this today, not because I want to recount the story of the seagull and the mouse, condemn seagulls or earn sympathies for the mouse. I am writing this now when it no more matters who are the mice or the seagulls. I am writing this in the point of view of a boy, once a mouse in a story, to prove that his story did not end in just getting “accustomed to being the simple mouse again.” Because after all, the mouse learned that he can meet the skies even without seagulls. That's the reality now. That is what matters now. 

Alongside the muscular men of Tondo are tattooed broken hearted boys who drank mouthfuls of silver cleaning solutions with a sheepishly written note in their hands. Others jumped out of their hotel rooms while the passionate gunned their very own hearts. It is a cruel reality and many did not survive. But I did and this is what it is all about. 

So let me apologize if the article today appears self-indulgent, as it was written by a boy who once braved the growling seas and fought malignant fat clowns attempting to call themselves knights. This time, allow me to pompously write, tell myself and the whole world of how proud I am of how I’ve triumphantly slain those multi-headed dragons while remaining gorgeously handsome in black leather boots and vintage maong pants. 

It was T. S. Eliot who once said that humankind cannot bear very much reality. And I think I know why. It’s because reality is fundamentally painful. It is painful to see the heights and see the beautiful world in your very eyes only to find yourself, once again, sitting in a dank muddy ground, inhaling all the ugly truths sprawling before you. But then it is also asked, how do we know that the sky is not green and we are all color blind? 

I saw the world, the seas and its amazing dwellers, the bursting green of leaves and the flaming bonfires of mountains – I saw them all through my tears. Surprisingly, they are beautiful. They are real. Now, the tears had dried up, I look at the world and I still find it beautiful, surreal, but very much real. 

Maybe that’s what reality really is. People are born, they walk, they fall in love, they fail, they triumph, they fix themselves, then they walk again, fall in love again, got led on, got broken again, fix themselves again, then walk again for more. And that sometimes, seagulls would come to pick defeated looking mouse for a ride in the skies only to drop them again on a deserted land, hungry and empty handed. But it’s not about what yesterday has taken away. It’s about what you are willing to risk again in exchange of another visit to the skies, either with another seagull, or this time all alone just by yourself. To rise from ivory towers and golden pantheons despite being as minuscule as the mouse and with no flapping seagull wings, that, I think, is now my reality. 

___

Désolé Boy | Year 1, Seq 1
Désolé Boy – Indeed | Year 1, Seq 2
Désolé Boy – Nothing Really Maters | Year 1, Seq 3
Désolé Boy – Anywhere the Wind Blows | Year 2, Seq 4
Désolé Boy – No Escape from Reality | Year 2, Seq 5     


-photo credit to Xander of A Boy Named Xander









17 reaction(s):

Bino said...

wow ! ang ganda naman ng post. i was a mouse din before eh. basta hirap iexplain. maybe someday ma-isheshare ko din

xallthethird said...

There will always be rise and falls. There are those who rise quickly and falls just a few steps down and there are others who rise slowly but falls steeply.
For the latter, it would seem that the reality is harsh and will struggle more to attain where they've been before.
But for the first one, it is most probable that they will hunger for more and at some point, will have a perspective that they are still at the bottom.
I guess it all boils down to what perspective each of one has.
But whatever case it may be, Smile smile lang. :D
Nice post by the way. You have a unique way with words.

citybuoy said...

It's only when you've been broken into too many minute pieces and then somehow, found a way to rebuild yourself that you can truly say you've lived. maybe one day, DB we'll find mice with wings.

ıǝɹɯɐı said...

"To rise from ivory towers and golden pantheons despite being as minuscule as the mouse and with no flapping seagull wings..."

i am a mouse, unfortunately. this post is eye opening. thank you. thank you.

Leah said...

I feel you.

I think I am a mouse, too. I am this helpless little mouse, and then seagulls would pick me up and carry me to new heights.. showing me something new and grand.

I'd be in awe. I'd be grateful. But it's the part when I began to lose grip, and the gulls would put me down.. those are the hardest. I tend to wallow in sadness and self-pity. And then, these people.. They would see me as this little damsel in distress, and the princes and knights would come, riding on gallant horses. Pick me up again, out of pity. :(

Sad.

My life is complicated. Haha.

I think I still am a mouse.. Maybe because I'm very comfortable being one. Maybe I just got used to it. I am still afraid to come out of my hole.

But changes are inevitable.. right?

I am thankful to the seagulls who are always willing to give me a lift. But I think someday.. one day... I just have to climb the tower and enjoy the view on my own.

Nate said...

ah, deebee.. really nice post.. you never fail to amaze me.. :)

love, trials, tribulations, triumph (in iteration) = reality

thanks for sharing a part of you.. :)

KikomaxXx said...

i feel you chong.. parang ganyan na ganyan ako ngayon stepping to the new world na akala ko sa TV lang nakikita...

bien said...

Let's just be thankful to the seagulls. For the ride.



DeeBee, this entry is beautiful.

JJ Roa Rodriguez said...

This is wonderful. You have written it with dignity and i salute you for that. I have fought a lot of battles and overcome a lot of trials. And i know there will still be a lot along the way. And i better be prepared for them.

Have fun! Take care!

JJRod'z

Pepe said...

this blogpost is my prayer for tonight. in many nights to come, i will remind myself to revisit this post whenever i feel like needing these words.

thank you for sharing a part of you. Hugs to you, Desole Boy.

yamyam said...

such a beautiful post..


tc always

lovelove,
yamyam

the green breaker said...

DB, I will always admire how you open yourself up to us and give us a hindsight of what is inside your head. Well, you might say that you have spilled much but I can't interpret everything.

I could be the seagull who meddles. I pretty much figured that out for the past year.

Oh, another sequence, milestone. :)

Kane said...

Hay DB. Kamusta ka? I was pondering over this; trying to pin down what exactly it is that was nagging me.

And then I got it.

I may be wrong, but this is how it comes across to me, and perhaps I want to talk to you honestly.

It seems that sometimes, your stories are devoid of joy, of fun, do you get me?

Yes, there is always redemption but you paint much like a stoic does, it seems that you feel life will always be like this; nothing more. That we are almost resigned to our fates? That there is no escape from reality; when the truth is, reality is something we create. Therefore, we are free to make it as we wish.

It's hard to explain things in writing. It's the tone of your stories.

Anyway... as for the comments I read...

Ang hirap naman kasi mag salita minsan. What if... I never felt like I was a mouse? But not a seagull either. Something else. Almost everyone who commented said they felt that way once. Except for Green Breaker.

I suppose those who didn't just held their tongue. =) Hehe.

I once said our stories reveal to people who we think we are. I think this just might be one of those.

Kane

Leo said...

DB, I can relate to this entry. Great to know you're keeping the faith.

Cheers to more breakthroughs!

Mac Callister said...

OMG! a wonderful post!!! i love this DB...

kakainlove ka magsulat! chos!

Viktor Saudad said...

Seagulls... always remind me of one seagull, Jonathan Livingston.

Anyway... I'm a mouse. And right now, I'm building myself a pair of wings. Can't really wait and depend on a seagull just to have a breathe of the sky, a view of the horizon, and a ride of my life, can I?

taking life in to my own paws. Hands, I meant hands!

Pyro said...

Beautiful. Really beautiful and inspiring post.

And I admire your writing. :)

 

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