Binary Tree Maze: Predetermined Paths


Who am I?

I am the person traveling this path. The path was not set by me. My tools, attributes, were given to me, some I picked up along the way.

Our paths, it seems, are predetermined. Our choices, just a cascade from the primordial decision. Then the universe narrows down your choices to binary: Do or Don’t. And just when you think you’re at least in control of that — it rains. The universe conspires and freewill is an illusion. Our Life’s purpose is for us to walk the paths and experience it.

And now, I feel like I finally understood what Kahlil Gibran said, “You are the way and the wayfarer”.


The Great Lucena Panic


I searched online and could not find any article written about “The Great Lucena Panic” that happened in 1995 just right about a week or two after typhoon Rosing (international name: typhoon Angela). My family and I were there and I wonder if anyone else remember that night. It was a glimpse of what it would be like and how humans will behave in the face of an apocalypse.
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The Twig and the Boy (Ang Suwi at ang Binatilyo)

I can’t sing
And even if I can, I don’t have the right words
And if I have the right words
Would you hear it?

I can’t paint
And even if I can, I don’t have the right colors
And if I have the right colors
Would you see it?

If I can express this emotion
That the person inside me feel for you
Would the person inside you feel it?

How can one put into words
Or find the right melody
Or even draw on a paper
The intricacies
Of a bitter-sweet, one sided memory?
Using statements that only serve to misrepresent
Adjectives at best only approximate
Of undying emotions, flavored by the present
From a time long gone

Like a tree telling a story
Of pains, secrets and splendor of what once was
And a man who only remembers the twig
And the tree who only remembers the boy

You, are not who you were
I, am not who I was
Yet who we were, once was
Now, live in solitude, locked up inside us
And though desperately trying to reach out for one another

They will never meet again

And for their story, let this be my last entreaty

That though we remember separately
And only hear the echos of each other’s past
Together, the you and I of today
Let’s celebrate in friendship
The sublimity of all that once was

And when the time comes
With my last breath
I would have but one last prayer
That when we are both no more
That the universe remembers for us
And piece together, what we could not

The memory of the tree and the man
The twig and the boy
You and I, who were, once was