The Perils of Blogging

It came as a surprise to receive not in my email but in one of the pages a request to delete a seemingly indicative comment on a particular post. I felt sad thinking about the possibilities and consequences brought about by the comment. I cannot imagine the anguish a comment can bring to a particular person, or group of person, or family. (I already deleted the comment as per request.)

I had posts that had provoked intrigues, had roused indifferent opinions, or had brought about judgments on me and on others. But I will never post anything that would directly hurt anybody. The comments on the posts are out of my hands and I believe that the interpretation depends on how a reader perceives a particular topic. My intention in posting articles is purely to share my thoughts on matters laid under the sun. They were never intended to ruin or invite chaos in any way. My musings are independently mine and are not dependent on whoever personality or whatever circumstances there is.

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In a Ballroom Party

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I did not dance. I remember those days when I still dance. I wonder if I still have the grace and can go with the rhythm perfectly. Those days now are like early morning mists that go away after a fleeting moment.

Dancing is an expression of one’s feelings, I believe. The energy and strength you put into it is rewarding. You sort of put yourself and your soul into it, drowning with the spirit and the desire that goes with it.

Alas, I think the agility has lost its meaning, too. The desire is mostly conquered by hesitance or doubt, and shame, and insignificance. Must be the age. 🙂

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Valentine’s Day Special

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Because everybody today is focused on celebrating this special day, I took time observing and listening:

The guards were all smiles when I greeted them the usual “Happy Valentine’s Day!” and timidly greeted me in return.

Friend C* was the first person I saw on my way to the office and greeted her again with the usual “Happy Valentine’s…” She kissed me on the cheek.

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Do I care?

“Show me someone who never gossips, and I’ll show you someone who isn’t interested in people. ” ~ Barbara Walters ~

The quote above tells us that everyone gossips. Of course, this is not nice to hear, especially if we mean that to gossip is to talk maliciously about people’s secrets and private lives. But I tend to agree that we are all interested about gossips, especially about social talks that perk up the day.

But when do talks about people become true gossips and become intrusive? Personally, I do not mind so much about talks on personal things about people. I remember, when I got first employed in a company, a few people came to visit my office and ‘socialize’. I took it as a polite gesture of welcoming me to the company at first but when their talks started to deal with the secretary’s private life and that she is having an affair with the boss, I began to distance myself. I still stick to what Eleanor Roosevelt has to say –

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Not a Series But an Unfortunate Event

“You never know what will happen tomorrow,” Papsie uttered. This was the night after Papsie fell from the stairs to the children’s rooms, from the 7th step to be specific.

It was a shock to hear the words from Kay when she called up the office. It was during lunch time. Her voice cracked while reminding me to keep calm. I immediately dialed 187 to ask for the hospital’s number. I was able to contact the hospital and talked to the nephew who went with Papsie to the hospital. He was at that time in the x-ray room and after a while I was able to talk to him.

This was what happened.

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The Party’s Over

Verns was right. No matter how OC you wanted to be about the preparations for a party, it will end just what a party always is – not perfect. Because a party is all but merrymaking, revelry, blast, celebration, and it always ends up lacking one way or the other.

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Well, the good thing is it’s over and done with. Papsie was fulfilled being very thankful the most because he tried his very best to give his service and support in ways unimaginable to me. Me, feeling incomplete because of anxiety though it was over, was very restless until now – not knowing if the reason is if the visitors enjoyed the event and the food, or if the celebrant liked what we had done or prepared for her. And Daryl, being supportive as always, was thankful for what I did and that the stress it’s causing me had ended. Continue reading “The Party’s Over”