A Walk Through Life

Photo Source: Internet What is it about death that we don't really want to talk about it? Death is a reality that can come to us at anytime but why are we sometimes so unwelcoming when we talk about it? In fact, I have been thinking about my previous post about death almost two years ago with a brave title that goes – Are you prepared to die? In all fairness, it was a post for All Soul's Day, so I was thinking maybe everybody had been very busy at that time to ever think about sharing their thoughts or comments or perhaps maybe my post just wasn't interesting enough. The reality of death can really be a scary thing. We don't know when or how we are going to die. We also cry when someone we love dies. We cry because we associate death to losing someone or missing someone. Never did we think about our dead if they have felt any regrets for leaving this world. Last week, we were told about a death of hubby's distant relative who once had the chance to come over ...

" Haste makes waste." But why do superiors keep pushing 'SPEED' to their subordinates? Why do some of them care about the quality less than the speed? Well, maintaining a so-so quality with a huge emphasis on speed can bring on good and better income for the company. But the question is, for how long? While this is quite a disappointment for employees who want a touch of perfection in their work, they can't do anything about it but to comply. Indeed, it makes such a waste to do things in haste. How many times did we try doing things too quickly that we didn't and aren't able to do them well enough and only to find ourselves doing and re-doing it again? Again and again, because time is gold , we shouldn't do things in haste. We don't want to get stuck doing the same thing because we haven't done it well the first time. Nothing personal. Just my random thoughts. :-)

I remember a time during my high school days when I kept losing my pen that I have to borrow my mom's. Actually, 'borrow' is not the term for it because I had to use it without her permission. What's worse about it is that I usually end up losing her precious pen. I can't remember how many times I have been scolded for running off with her pen and losing it at school and then eventually she would have to buy a new one for herself--the cycle never ended until I graduated high school. Writing had always been her passion and the pen was her only tool to write down her thoughts. In fact, we both agreed that a writer should never run out of pen and paper wherever he or she goes. So, when I finally got a job, I had the chance to buy personalized pens for her and the rest of the family. More than everyone else, she was so happy with the gift. If my mom's still alive today and now that it is no longer that expensive to own a computer and hook up with the Internet, she w...

What do dreams really mean? Why do I dream of people and old acquaintances that I haven't met in a long time? Why do they appear in my slumber when I'm not even thinking of them? Why do dreams take me back to my younger days? Back. Way, way back. Back in my native land, San Carlos City, Negros Occidental. Maybe my homeland misses me. Or is it the other way around? I can't seem to figure out why sometimes my dream of a particular person or persons can run for days, like sequels to a tv series. Maybe they don't really mean anything. Maybe they do. But I can't stay around thinking about it. Reality is here. Maybe I'm just plain tired. I can't write my thoughts any further. I'm going to bed now. And dream again. Of people and old acquaintances I haven't met in a long time. And still wonder why I do. And write about it. Get sleepy. And dream again. Wake up and wonder. And... yeah, I get you. This whole dream thing is going nowhere.