'We can all be immortal' says the teacher.

Back in 2010, I was in Form 5; Madam Goh was my English teacher who happened to be one of the most ferocious teachers there is in our school. She once told me that there is a way to immortalize our loved ones. We were all bamboozled. No one seems to believe her. Of course, we are all are so naive and so conservative back then, I thought to myself of how impossible it was too! I mean, how can someone be immortalized? Everyone will be dead, right? It's just a matter of time. So, a few of us rebelled and start bombing her with questions. She, in a very strict manner, told us all to zip our mouth and started explaining. This is what she told our class:

1. Make an art about them.

She started to explain to us, patiently, that someone, unaffiliated with what their race, color, gender or whatever that is that cross your mind might be, can be immortalize by including or participating them in your literary work or any artwork. For example; Shakespeare eternalized his loved one in the Sonnet 18 or Leonardo da Vinci with his Mona Lisa (Is Mona Lisa a real person?)

2. Publish them.

After you've finished making an art about them, don't let it just lay up there in your mind or something, you'll soon forget about it. Publish it, or post it or you can even tweet it! There's a variety of way on how you can publish them. 

Tadaaa! You have now made that something or someone an immortal, sort of. If you're too shy about it, well don't be. You may not be the best at what you do, but at least you have to give it a try. No one was born as a famous artist or celebrity; they worked their asses off to be who they are that they got to be now.

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Adieu and happy trying! 

My Childhood.

As a child, when I thought of the future, all I could see was black. No, I wasn't unhappy or depressed. To some, I was considered rather as a convivial boy, as blissful playing with my posse of male friends in elementary school as I was when I would occasionally take a day by myself doing stuff that would enlighten and ignite the all-spark within me. 

But when the thought of the distant future surged into my head, of what I would accomplish and become as an adult, there was a vacant. I just didn't know how I would subsist, where would I live, and with who could I live with. I knew one thing and one thing only as a boy in his phalanx of pubescence: I couldn't be like my dad. He’s an awesome guy. A really great man in short. For some degenerate reason, I felt I couldn't even have a beautiful marriage like my parents.

It's hard to convey what that feeling does to a child. In retrospect, it was a sharp, dislodge wound to the psyche. 

My female friend vividly crystallized it in typical and slightly spiteful fashion: "You're not the marrying kind," she said. It struck a chord of such pain; my pride forced me to embrace it. "No, I guess I'm not. I mean I like the way I lived. I like the freedom that I have right now. Not to have any commitment and all,"

This wasn't a made up lie and it was more than just an excuse, it is a dodge, and I very well knew it.

Marriage, to some, is the most happiest day of your life. It is for a reason of course. Getting married is often the axis on which every family generation swings open. It is like the modified piece that is engraved onto the chest plates on the Iron Man’s circular centerpiece (nerd talk). In English, it’s very crucial. In my small-town life, it was more important than wealth, career and even fame.

And I could see my friend's point: the very lack of any dating or interest in it, the absence of any intimate relationships or any normal teenage behavior did indeed make me seem just a classic loner. But I wasn't. Because nobody is. 

In everyone there sleeps  
a sense of life lived according to love.
                                     -Phillip Larkin

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But I think I have a BPD, Borderline Personality Disorder. So, like usual if there's any comment at all please feel free to comment. 

MAKE THEM THIRSTY...

There was an old story that my teacher once told me. It was about a salesperson who's fed up in losing an important sale.

He talked with the boss about why it didn't work out. “I guess,” he said, “It just proves you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink.”

“Maybe,” said the boss, “But let me give you some advice: your job is not to make him drink. It’s to make him thirsty.”

***

I very much like the story, but I’d also say that the market of existing, the number of thirsty people is already quite enormous. Instead of leading horses around, and instead of causing thirst, it’s your job to find the thirsty and offer them water.

When you get this part right, everything becomes much easier.

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*this is my first entry for this blog and I will update this blog once or twice in a week. tehee. So, I'm hoping to get a feedback since I am new in this type of thing. Much love.