Of Who He Is...

He never enjoyed the feeling of desperation, I guess none of us will...

For someone who worries so much, about life... it was never simple and quiet. I could attest to the many roads he traveled, be it taken and the untaken. Not one single moment his weakness shown. Consistently determined to stand for his decisions and fit to whatever fate would endow.

He has been an inspiration to many. Known for his intelligence and talent. At the same time he was a threat to some. An enemy to defeat. But none of these can be absolute description of who and what he really is.

Living a life of minority in all aspects, it was a never-ending challenge to make ends meet. Everyday is a process of exploring what more can be done to change his fate, to further his being and reach his dreams.

He carries a profession by decision, nurtures a passion with hope and ambition; fulfills a heart fired with deviation and pushed to endless obligations. This is how he is...

Forgetful of himself and always remindful of what he knows needs to be done, takes every decision to heart. When he chose to trudge the unknown, he embraced the things he didn’t like. But through it, he was closer to fulfilling everyone’s needs, including his. Winning respect and taking hold of the front seat, thus complicating his youth with enormous unwritten deliverables. Beyond his control, mostly blow out of proportion, makes him quiver. Confused on what’s next to be done. Not liking his post but refuses to give in; would love to be free but willing to remain captive.

Melodies of the heart relieves his griefs. At his lowest he is lifted by his gift. Where he feels strongest... makes him real vulnerable; for he knows he has it but have not chanced upon that door to the other side, where he is home. Like a shooting star it seems that this corner of him is elusive and consistently assailed by forces beyond his might and will. Perceived to be numb, but reluctantly infectious.

He speaks... But always misunderstood; conscientiously weathering circumstances and willing to take the jump page. There seem to be few ears which can really listen and do it right. For someone as ardent as him, passion and conviction compromises assurance, of being known, of being accepted and of being loved...

He smiles... But insatiable, hollow, feisty at times. Through the million glows outline blurry stains of doubts and uncertainty. The sound of sonorous weeping overtakes his resounding laughter. Sacrifices a lot just to please the other, where much is given and nothing is expected to return. But seemed lacking and makes him weak. How stupid should he get to find himself embraced? Not so remote he would forget and let go--the feeling he’s more afraid of. He’s always independent and surviving, but gives him so much anxiety embracing life in mono.

Trying hard to keep the boundaries of what is enough, but the gates are crashing; helpless from the uncanny vigor of discomfort, of necessity, of responsibility, of scarcity, of insecurity, and beyond...

Vowed to rest his campaign up the pedestal. Crossing the Stygian paths with dignity. And look back, where everyone else nod in acquiesce... He made it. His life is an hour glass, brittle and rhythmically ticking to its last drop; tells him that none should be chanced in disdain; that one should not be bloviate in expression; that deeds should be guarded by discipline; and that his heart be in congruence with his mind.

Perhaps he knows nothing about desperation. Only a recognition of the transitory.