Particular Moments

More Stars than There are

Tag: short essay

Walk The Talk

Is there such a thing that is the epidemic of talking too much?

Pull any shrink out of the herd and he spills a bucket-full of opinions and ideas:


Christ, look at him, thinking he’s a real piece of work with his impressive¬†verbiage, fancying the things he’d likely never get a true grip on…since when, or has it always been, that an individual’s unsubstantiated fluff, as long as it sounds glib and looks sleek on the mere surface, is taken as an indication of decent, even amiable character?


What happened to the old fashioned virtue of reservation? The idea that genuine acclaim and affirmation is established not by one’s words, but by his/her undertaken actions? People at large make too many decisions about each other that are based solely on what they hear from their counterparts, impervious to the lamentable phenomenon that society has become not only tolerant of, but more so attracted to the rampant presence of fast-talkers and their empty quick wits.

Ask not for middlemen who’d rather draw a picture and think of all the good things that can be done, instead, take trust in those who dive steadily into the field without self-advertisement.

Nocturnes: Part 1

So it is—stillness after the blitzkrieg storm, which came and left in such a hurry that its brutal force only inflicted minor destruction: scattered, small incidents here and there, uprooted trees with poor footings and torn paper houses with substandard foundations—only the flimsiest of things took their falls; maybe they should have been knocked over long ago.

You could only stand upright so long, solely relying on the erratic safety of pushed luck and not having anything substantial to hold your Ground.

Brief, succinct, but nonetheless terrifying; as she made her way, everything in her path shook just by the sheer immenseness of what she was capable of, not even by the severe and solemnness of her actual device.

This instance was only a casual regard, to remind those who had forgotten just how much they were at her absolute mercy. But realistically, merciful she was and is not, rather, she is impartial. The majority of whom she left unscathed, she did so—unintentionally; however, nor did she deliberately bring havoc to those who are now broken and petrified; they caught by the harsher angles of her passing draft simply by the fairness of the law of mass action: anybody could be it, but certainly not everybody, maybe.

One could only wonder, where do the Others hide? The bugs, birds, and rodents—you know, they are with us too. Where were they as the wind began to roar and the ground became progressively moistened then inconveniently soaked? Where did they go and how do they always return?

Could it be that even the mysterious and the all encompassing cannot halt the seemingly inexhaustible forces of life? Where were you amidst the storm? Did you have solid roofings over your head? If so, did it falsely convince you of your sure footings?

Finding Reassurance in Malady

Among the various ironies in the human conditioning, is its inability to possess prolonged defiance against toils–swap a pauper’s shack for a throne, and soon he forgets how to make ends meet with nothing.

After years not stricken by discomforting sicknesses,  I have gone soft against the debilitating elements of a disease. The headache and extreme malaise have overcome me; for the past week, each morning has been a hell of suffocating punishments.

I found my physical strength disobeying me; my mind has settled for weakness, unwilling to command the body to do anything.

What does one do

When frailty rules?




You have to say to yourself, with great and unfaltering confidence, that

“My body is stricken, my mind is feeble, but my SOUL is strong.”

When all earthly hope is lost, confide in the metaphysics.


Someone once said somewhere during sometime,

“In dreams begin responsibilities.”

Was it W.B. Yeats?




Start by dreaming,

Envisioning your coming around.


That is vaguely the point,

You have to forge with the greatest, most indestructible ore

The true nature of what constitutes you

That which no man or woman or virus or bacteria or fungus or parasite

Can ever take away.


They can corrode and rot your body

But they cannot mend your soul.


Keep that in mind,

Stay in motion,

And stick to a sound treatment plan.


There is a pair of cardinals that would pay their occasional visits to the backyard. Though I am not entirely sure of their flight routines, I am aware that their appearances seem to be bound by a periodic pattern—the details concerning its particular time intervals have always eluded me.

With agile and energetic maneuvers, the two birds would glide up and down among the tree branches and garden furnishings. And because of the vibrant red-orange of their feathers, one can hardly take his/her eyes off them anytime they are anywhere in sight.

Today, for the first time this year, I had the fortune to see these lively, magnificent creatures again. With winter nearly to its rear and spring yet to have sprouted it first buds, at a glance, the yard is still in shades of withered, yellowish-gray. This made the winged guests especially eye-catching, for their fiercely bright coats sharply contrasted the stark hues of their surroundings.

Having spent most of the day like a ghoul, the sight of these cardinals brought forth relief, coupled by a sudden change of heart; their presence rebelled against and defied all that has perished outside: desiccated stretches of grass, leaf-less, snarled trees, and naked dry earth—all void of any vital sign. Yet there they were, alive and in flight amidst the dead, like messengers of Hope, delivering a kindred torch of life to the ones still living in bleak times.