Intertwined

Dear friend, 

       Since yesterday was Sunday, my family and I watched mass on the television. The readings and gospel were about forgiveness and loving your neighbour as you love yourself. It's a very popular notion in my religion and others as well, to treat people the way you want to be treated. I think that also just comes with being human. To nourishing the positive energy within ourselves by helping others rather than feeding our ego by placing it above all else, sheltering it from the reality of the world we live in. 

        My small cousin watched mass with us also, although he's super young and not particularly religious, he stood up when we did and he kneeled when we kneeled. It's important to recognize our influence to the eyes of the young, because then they look to us to see whether we feed the positivity or the negativity. Most children seem to be living off positivity and it's very beautiful to see. 

        Every person they meet on the playground is called a friend and every older boy or girl is called a 'kuya' or 'ate'. Children are able to live and let go so easily that it makes me somewhat envious. I guess it comes with being young at both mind and heart, yet to be exposed to the pressures of the world and its hidden agenda of self-preservation and immediate gratification; children are just happy to be alive and that is always enough for them. 

        When I was listening to the message of the priest that presided over the live streamed mass, he said that it's easier to get over people who leave but harder to forget the feelings they left behind. In the context of my faith, one could have a super uplifting weekend or event that'll leave behind emotions of triumph and joy, days and even weeks after the experience. But that person is also susceptible to forgetting the cause of that happiness which is ultimately, God. I haven't felt that way in awhile but I'm trying my best to imagine. 

        Anyways. when people leave your life, of course the love and the joy will linger. Sometimes it lingers for days or weeks, maybe even months. But it too, will eventually leave. And then you'll have room for something even better. 

         I'm almost finished reading this book that's had my attention for the past few days, I hope I can finish it before my class tomorrow. I don't think I've read this much since before high school so it's a pleasant and refreshing time right now. I also dreamt of you last night. 

         In the dream, I saw you in the store at the mall shopping for something that you needed, when I saw you, I said hi. When you saw me, you said hi back. That was all. And then weirdly enough, maybe I'm just having trouble remembering, the dream cut to a scene where we were both in the parking lot at your car, it was the rainiest September afternoon. I guess I accompanied you there because I hadn't seen you in awhile and wanted to be around you for as long as I could. And after we finished whatever we were doing, you got in your car and drove away with a content smile. 

           I could've stayed underneath that rain forever. 

          But I went back inside, and I woke up and you were gone. Today's a sunny day with a blue sky and a few clouds. I have a song about, "flashes of colour" lighting up "through the grey," on repeat coming from the speakers on my phone that no longer has a case. I think I'll be able to finish my book today and get started on the next one. It seems that I'm building a habit of writing your letters after breakfast and before lunch, so you might still be asleep or at work but I hope you have a good day. 

           That when you're driving down that road you love, you'll roll down the windows and play that song on your playlist that you've had on repeat; every lyric wiping away any doubt you had for today and for the coming days. Onwards to a destination unknown but it doesn't matter, because you're wearing the same smile you wore in my dream. 

            I hope this all happens to you, and that you're as happy as I am, too.

   Love always,

Rave

Tom Misch & Carmody, 2014