Let's see. (Hands Like Sandpaper, Heart Like a Pressure Cooker)
1.) My brother is hardly home. He shows up to eat, and maybe get money from my parents. Otherwise, he goes off and into friends' houses. He tells us he studies there and we believe him. He spends the night, because he can study there better. When he is a home, he plays a lot of DotA; studying less and video gaming more. We believe him.
2.) My mobile phone is broken. Do not call me, for I will not hear you. It's as if distance has caught up with me, with the voices of friends suddenly muted to whispers and further and further into deafening quiet. With that, I have become a Deaf Siva, Destroyer of all sounds - any audio I make with my mouth still resembles speech, but my ears unable to hear your words. I will send text messages; like the deaf, I will use my eyes and hands instead, to find you.
3.) As the year bumbled in, I turned 25. It was the worst start of the year this year; people used me as an excuse to make merry while starting fights and picking fires. People would much rather fight with me than fight for me, I guess. It is a distant ways away, but I am itching to hold Christmas tinsel and birthday cake again. I am a child like that.
4.) I am usually hurt by things that I never see coming. I am blind like that.
5.) My sister likes to paint. She is also such a good student, she made it to the interview shortlist of PGH. She is now on the fast track to follow my Dad's footsteps. I wanted to walk those footsteps, be a doctor just like my father. I was a child, like that. I wanted to be the doctor while fulfilling the dream to get rich and marry the loveliest girl I know. Now it's Dad's youngest daughter and younger son who may make it as doctors, now that my sister made it to that big deal med school. Not me. I fell in love with words, not windpipes. I told them I didn't want it anymore, and I meant it. They believed me.
6.) At work, people wish I arrive earlier. It's a big deal that I get there early, they say. So since last August I get up from bed at seven or eight in the morning, work at nine and leave for home by six. On Saturdays, I have another day. On a bad day, I wake up late, and still get to work late, but the bottom line is I get home late too. I am hardly at home. It's a price I pay to earn my money. I will not get rich or marry yet with what I earn now, but have I do it; nobody will do it if not me, I tell myself. It's a bigger deal that I give it, really.
7.) My Internet life is thriving. It is uncanny. On Facebook, I have 968 friends. There will be more. Friendster had 728. Multiply had even fewer, 587. All these are people I have met, kissed, hugged, held hands with, sent texts to, got drunk and woke up confused with and all manner of things. The Internet helps me bridge distances with my eyes and hands, to friends I have, and there will be more, I tell myself.
8.) I am thinking of inviting some of you to a party I am throwing on the 7th. It'll follow in the footsteps of the one last year. We had got together everybody from A-Days whose birthday was on January, and celebrated like it was Christmas and my birthday again, where we, now another year into being grown-ups, get to be celebrate and dance so free. I am excited because it's a day when for one night, my home is a playground and I am not alone in the world.
9.) I jog every other day. Or night. Actually. I like night far better. I run through a familiar route around our village, darkened like a dreamy wood. You can hear the howling of neighbor's hounds, and smell the scent of flowers, maybe jasmines or dama de noche or whatever it was, I forget. It is beautiful this time of year, the night. I get my iPod, lace up my shoes and run till my heart is pounding, my breath panting and the rest of my body unable to rise from bed. I am training to be stronger, fitter, and maybe even sexier, that when you see me someday you will be impressed. You'll never see it coming. (But now you might; the Internet is uncanny.)
10.) One of my best friends gave me a bag. It was for Christmas and my birthday. When I opened the wrapper, it first looked like a scarf. I was so happy until I pulled it all the way out. I was still happy, even if I thought I would get what I was really asking for. I didn't see it coming, after all. You have to believe me.
11.) I still train with the Kendo people. I like how my hands grow like sandpaper, and my heart like a pressure cooker. It's strength, I tell myself and I believe it. It's another step closer to being stronger, fitter, sexier. I put on the blue robes and blue pants and take bamboo sword to the dojo, surrounded by other people with blue robes, blue pants and bamboo swords. We fight with one another and fight for one another, striking stomach, wrist, temple of head. I swing my sword till my hands are like sandpaper, my heart like a pressure cooker. I go home breath panting, heart pounding and body unable to move. It is like I have been loved in a very special way. It's uncanny.
12.) Today, I am giving a talk for A-Days. It's a big deal. I never saw it coming. Now, I am trying my best to hold my nerve, the way a teenager prepares for prom, or a man who isn't all that rich asks the prettiest girl to marry him. It feels like the first few hours before first few times I kissed, hugged, held hands, got drunk, woke up confused, and all sorts of other things with people. I studied up hard on the topic; but maybe I am the one who needs to learn. I am a child like that.
13.) My sister and I found a friend on the Internet. She apparently hooked up with another friend, one we both met when we were in high school. We were impressed. He was my classmate, my sister met him when she was a freshman then. She was, is, beautiful, head to toe, although probably not the prettiest girl I know. He was, is, okay. Love is blind like that. I should know.
14.) I am born to love, but I am not a born lover. Believe me please.
15.) I am asked what my plans are beyond my job. I am asked if I will ever fall in love, and I don't tell them of the picture I like to paint in my imagination. Maybe, just maybe, I have already secretly begun the plans to get rich and marry the dearest girl I know. I will hold her close, stare into her beautiful, beautiful eyes, hold her hand and whisper "I have found you, you whose name God carved into the palm of my hands." There will be more, of course, on that day tht I can say I have more, more to give. It's a dream, a dream that requires more than my sandpaper hands, weary eyes and high-blood pressure pounding heart. I cannot do this fight alone. I need her to fight for me too.
16.) It is a weekend, and I am tired. I long for sleep. Do not call me, for I will not hear you. Instead, pray for me please. Please believe me, when I smile and say I'm okay, never mind my weary eyes betray that there are mornings I don't want to go to work because I have nightmares of all my dreams slipping further and further into the quiet, quiet dark night that I never see coming, disappearing like the scent of flowers like jasmines. Or was it lilies, maybe? I forget. I wake breath panting, heart pounding and body unable to rise. Maybe I am in love, after all, in a very special way. Life is uncanny like that.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
...because I spent last night watching one of my personal heroes become President of the United States of America! And I liked the speech - not the rising "yes we can" forcefulness from when he won, nor the tear-jerking inspiring from when we got the nomination, but a clarion call to do the work to bring change.
Heck, it has something for everybody! Listen! (See everyone? You can be awesome too.)
'Ika nga:
"To those who cling to power through corruption and deceit and the silencing of dissent, know that you are on the wrong side of history; but that we will extend a hand if you are willing to unclench your fist."
Ano kaya reaction ni PGMA? Haha!
Below is the speech, along with a transcript.
My fellow citizens:
I stand here today humbled by the task before us, grateful for the trust you have bestowed, mindful of the sacrifices borne by our ancestors. I thank President Bush for his service to our nation, as well as the generosity and cooperation he has shown throughout this transition.
Forty-four Americans have now taken the presidential oath. The words have been spoken during rising tides of prosperity and the still waters of peace. Yet, every so often, the oath is taken amidst gathering clouds and raging storms. At these moments, America has carried on not simply because of the skill or vision of those in high office, but because We the People have remained faithful to the ideals of our forebearers, and true to our founding documents.
So it has been. So it must be with this generation of Americans.
That we are in the midst of crisis is now well understood. Our nation is at war, against a far-reaching network of violence and hatred. Our economy is badly weakened, a consequence of greed and irresponsibility on the part of some, but also our collective failure to make hard choices and prepare the nation for a new age. Homes have been lost; jobs shed; businesses shuttered. Our health care is too costly; our schools fail too many; and each day brings further evidence that the ways we use energy strengthen our adversaries and threaten our planet.
These are the indicators of crisis, subject to data and statistics. Less measurable but no less profound is a sapping of confidence across our land -- a nagging fear that America's decline is inevitable, and that the next generation must lower its sights.
Today I say to you that the challenges we face are real. They are serious and they are many. They will not be met easily or in a short span of time. But know this, America: They will be met.
On this day, we gather because we have chosen hope over fear, unity of purpose over conflict and discord.
On this day, we come to proclaim an end to the petty grievances and false promises, the recriminations and worn-out dogmas, that for far too long have strangled our politics.
We remain a young nation, but in the words of Scripture, the time has come to set aside childish things. The time has come to reaffirm our enduring spirit; to choose our better history; to carry forward that precious gift, that noble idea, passed on from generation to generation: the God-given promise that all are equal, all are free, and all deserve a chance to pursue their full measure of happiness.
In reaffirming the greatness of our nation, we understand that greatness is never a given. It must be earned. Our journey has never been one of shortcuts or settling for less. It has not been the path for the fainthearted -- for those who prefer leisure over work, or seek only the pleasures of riches and fame. Rather, it has been the risk-takers, the doers, the makers of things -- some celebrated, but more often men and women obscure in their labor -- who have carried us up the long, rugged path toward prosperity and freedom.
For us, they packed up their few worldly possessions and traveled across oceans in search of a new life.
For us, they toiled in sweatshops and settled the West; endured the lash of the whip and plowed the hard earth.
For us, they fought and died, in places like Concord and Gettysburg; Normandy and Khe Sahn.
Time and again, these men and women struggled and sacrificed and worked till their hands were raw so that we might live a better life. They saw America as bigger than the sum of our individual ambitions; greater than all the differences of birth or wealth or faction.
This is the journey we continue today. We remain the most prosperous, powerful nation on Earth. Our workers are no less productive than when this crisis began. Our minds are no less inventive, our goods and services no less needed than they were last week or last month or last year. Our capacity remains undiminished. But our time of standing pat, of protecting narrow interests and putting off unpleasant decisions -- that time has surely passed. Starting today, we must pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and begin again the work of remaking America.
For everywhere we look, there is work to be done. The state of the economy calls for action, bold and swift, and we will act -- not only to create new jobs, but to lay a new foundation for growth. We will build the roads and bridges, the electric grids and digital lines that feed our commerce and bind us together. We will restore science to its rightful place, and wield technology's wonders to raise health care's quality and lower its cost. We will harness the sun and the winds and the soil to fuel our cars and run our factories. And we will transform our schools and colleges and universities to meet the demands of a new age. All this we can do. And all this we will do.
Now, there are some who question the scale of our ambitions -- who suggest that our system cannot tolerate too many big plans. Their memories are short. For they have forgotten what this country has already done; what free men and women can achieve when imagination is joined to common purpose, and necessity to courage.
What the cynics fail to understand is that the ground has shifted beneath them -- that the stale political arguments that have consumed us for so long no longer apply. The question we ask today is not whether our government is too big or too small, but whether it works -- whether it helps families find jobs at a decent wage, care they can afford, a retirement that is dignified. Where the answer is yes, we intend to move forward. Where the answer is no, programs will end. And those of us who manage the public's dollars will be held to account -- to spend wisely, reform bad habits, and do our business in the light of day -- because only then can we restore the vital trust between a people and their government.
Nor is the question before us whether the market is a force for good or ill. Its power to generate wealth and expand freedom is unmatched, but this crisis has reminded us that without a watchful eye, the market can spin out of control -- and that a nation cannot prosper long when it favors only the prosperous. The success of our economy has always depended not just on the size of our gross domestic product, but on the reach of our prosperity; on our ability to extend opportunity to every willing heart -- not out of charity, but because it is the surest route to our common good.
As for our common defense, we reject as false the choice between our safety and our ideals. Our Founding Fathers, faced with perils we can scarcely imagine, drafted a charter to assure the rule of law and the rights of man, a charter expanded by the blood of generations. Those ideals still light the world, and we will not give them up for expedience's sake. And so to all other peoples and governments who are watching today, from the grandest capitals to the small village where my father was born: Know that America is a friend of each nation and every man, woman and child who seeks a future of peace and dignity, and that we are ready to lead once more.
Recall that earlier generations faced down fascism and communism not just with missiles and tanks, but with sturdy alliances and enduring convictions. They understood that our power alone cannot protect us, nor does it entitle us to do as we please. Instead, they knew that our power grows through its prudent use; our security emanates from the justness of our cause, the force of our example, the tempering qualities of humility and restraint.
We are the keepers of this legacy. Guided by these principles once more, we can meet those new threats that demand even greater effort -- even greater cooperation and understanding between nations. We will begin to responsibly leave Iraq to its people, and forge a hard-earned peace in Afghanistan. With old friends and former foes, we will work tirelessly to lessen the nuclear threat, and roll back the specter of a warming planet. We will not apologize for our way of life, nor will we waver in its defense, and for those who seek to advance their aims by inducing terror and slaughtering innocents, we say to you now that our spirit is stronger and cannot be broken; you cannot outlast us, and we will defeat you.
For we know that our patchwork heritage is a strength, not a weakness. We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers. We are shaped by every language and culture, drawn from every end of this Earth; and because we have tasted the bitter swill of civil war and segregation, and emerged from that dark chapter stronger and more united, we cannot help but believe that the old hatreds shall someday pass; that the lines of tribe shall soon dissolve; that as the world grows smaller, our common humanity shall reveal itself; and that America must play its role in ushering in a new era of peace.
To the Muslim world, we seek a new way forward, based on mutual interest and mutual respect. To those leaders around the globe who seek to sow conflict, or blame their society's ills on the West: Know that your people will judge you on what you can build, not what you destroy. To those who cling to power through corruption and deceit and the silencing of dissent, know that you are on the wrong side of history; but that we will extend a hand if you are willing to unclench your fist.
To the people of poor nations, we pledge to work alongside you to make your farms flourish and let clean waters flow; to nourish starved bodies and feed hungry minds. And to those nations like ours that enjoy relative plenty, we say we can no longer afford indifference to suffering outside our borders; nor can we consume the world's resources without regard to effect. For the world has changed, and we must change with it.
As we consider the road that unfolds before us, we remember with humble gratitude those brave Americans who, at this very hour, patrol far-off deserts and distant mountains. They have something to tell us today, just as the fallen heroes who lie in Arlington whisper through the ages. We honor them not only because they are guardians of our liberty, but because they embody the spirit of service; a willingness to find meaning in something greater than themselves. And yet, at this moment -- a moment that will define a generation -- it is precisely this spirit that must inhabit us all.
For as much as government can do and must do, it is ultimately the faith and determination of the American people upon which this nation relies. It is the kindness to take in a stranger when the levees break, the selflessness of workers who would rather cut their hours than see a friend lose their job which sees us through our darkest hours. It is the firefighter's courage to storm a stairway filled with smoke, but also a parent's willingness to nurture a child, that finally decides our fate.
Our challenges may be new. The instruments with which we meet them may be new. But those values upon which our success depends -- hard work and honesty, courage and fair play, tolerance and curiosity, loyalty and patriotism -- these things are old. These things are true. They have been the quiet force of progress throughout our history. What is demanded then is a return to these truths. What is required of us now is a new era of responsibility -- a recognition, on the part of every American, that we have duties to ourselves, our nation and the world; duties that we do not grudgingly accept but rather seize gladly, firm in the knowledge that there is nothing so satisfying to the spirit, so defining of our character, than giving our all to a difficult task.
This is the price and the promise of citizenship.
This is the source of our confidence -- the knowledge that God calls on us to shape an uncertain destiny.
This is the meaning of our liberty and our creed -- why men and women and children of every race and every faith can join in celebration across this magnificent Mall, and why a man whose father less than 60 years ago might not have been served at a local restaurant can now stand before you to take a most sacred oath.
So let us mark this day with remembrance, of who we are and how far we have traveled. In the year of America's birth, in the coldest of months, a small band of patriots huddled by dying campfires on the shores of an icy river. The capital was abandoned. The enemy was advancing. The snow was stained with blood. At a moment when the outcome of our revolution was most in doubt, the father of our nation ordered these words be read to the people:
"Let it be told to the future world ... that in the depth of winter, when nothing but hope and virtue could survive... that the city and the country, alarmed at one common danger, came forth to meet [it]."
America. In the face of our common dangers, in this winter of our hardship, let us remember these timeless words. With hope and virtue, let us brave once more the icy currents, and endure what storms may come. Let it be said by our children's children that when we were tested, we refused to let this journey end, that we did not turn back, nor did we falter; and with eyes fixed on the horizon and God's grace upon us, we carried forth that great gift of freedom and delivered it safely to future generations.
Heck, it has something for everybody! Listen! (See everyone? You can be awesome too.)
'Ika nga:
"To those who cling to power through corruption and deceit and the silencing of dissent, know that you are on the wrong side of history; but that we will extend a hand if you are willing to unclench your fist."
Ano kaya reaction ni PGMA? Haha!
Below is the speech, along with a transcript.
My fellow citizens:
I stand here today humbled by the task before us, grateful for the trust you have bestowed, mindful of the sacrifices borne by our ancestors. I thank President Bush for his service to our nation, as well as the generosity and cooperation he has shown throughout this transition.
Forty-four Americans have now taken the presidential oath. The words have been spoken during rising tides of prosperity and the still waters of peace. Yet, every so often, the oath is taken amidst gathering clouds and raging storms. At these moments, America has carried on not simply because of the skill or vision of those in high office, but because We the People have remained faithful to the ideals of our forebearers, and true to our founding documents.
So it has been. So it must be with this generation of Americans.
That we are in the midst of crisis is now well understood. Our nation is at war, against a far-reaching network of violence and hatred. Our economy is badly weakened, a consequence of greed and irresponsibility on the part of some, but also our collective failure to make hard choices and prepare the nation for a new age. Homes have been lost; jobs shed; businesses shuttered. Our health care is too costly; our schools fail too many; and each day brings further evidence that the ways we use energy strengthen our adversaries and threaten our planet.
These are the indicators of crisis, subject to data and statistics. Less measurable but no less profound is a sapping of confidence across our land -- a nagging fear that America's decline is inevitable, and that the next generation must lower its sights.
Today I say to you that the challenges we face are real. They are serious and they are many. They will not be met easily or in a short span of time. But know this, America: They will be met.
On this day, we gather because we have chosen hope over fear, unity of purpose over conflict and discord.
On this day, we come to proclaim an end to the petty grievances and false promises, the recriminations and worn-out dogmas, that for far too long have strangled our politics.
We remain a young nation, but in the words of Scripture, the time has come to set aside childish things. The time has come to reaffirm our enduring spirit; to choose our better history; to carry forward that precious gift, that noble idea, passed on from generation to generation: the God-given promise that all are equal, all are free, and all deserve a chance to pursue their full measure of happiness.
In reaffirming the greatness of our nation, we understand that greatness is never a given. It must be earned. Our journey has never been one of shortcuts or settling for less. It has not been the path for the fainthearted -- for those who prefer leisure over work, or seek only the pleasures of riches and fame. Rather, it has been the risk-takers, the doers, the makers of things -- some celebrated, but more often men and women obscure in their labor -- who have carried us up the long, rugged path toward prosperity and freedom.
For us, they packed up their few worldly possessions and traveled across oceans in search of a new life.
For us, they toiled in sweatshops and settled the West; endured the lash of the whip and plowed the hard earth.
For us, they fought and died, in places like Concord and Gettysburg; Normandy and Khe Sahn.
Time and again, these men and women struggled and sacrificed and worked till their hands were raw so that we might live a better life. They saw America as bigger than the sum of our individual ambitions; greater than all the differences of birth or wealth or faction.
This is the journey we continue today. We remain the most prosperous, powerful nation on Earth. Our workers are no less productive than when this crisis began. Our minds are no less inventive, our goods and services no less needed than they were last week or last month or last year. Our capacity remains undiminished. But our time of standing pat, of protecting narrow interests and putting off unpleasant decisions -- that time has surely passed. Starting today, we must pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and begin again the work of remaking America.
For everywhere we look, there is work to be done. The state of the economy calls for action, bold and swift, and we will act -- not only to create new jobs, but to lay a new foundation for growth. We will build the roads and bridges, the electric grids and digital lines that feed our commerce and bind us together. We will restore science to its rightful place, and wield technology's wonders to raise health care's quality and lower its cost. We will harness the sun and the winds and the soil to fuel our cars and run our factories. And we will transform our schools and colleges and universities to meet the demands of a new age. All this we can do. And all this we will do.
Now, there are some who question the scale of our ambitions -- who suggest that our system cannot tolerate too many big plans. Their memories are short. For they have forgotten what this country has already done; what free men and women can achieve when imagination is joined to common purpose, and necessity to courage.
What the cynics fail to understand is that the ground has shifted beneath them -- that the stale political arguments that have consumed us for so long no longer apply. The question we ask today is not whether our government is too big or too small, but whether it works -- whether it helps families find jobs at a decent wage, care they can afford, a retirement that is dignified. Where the answer is yes, we intend to move forward. Where the answer is no, programs will end. And those of us who manage the public's dollars will be held to account -- to spend wisely, reform bad habits, and do our business in the light of day -- because only then can we restore the vital trust between a people and their government.
Nor is the question before us whether the market is a force for good or ill. Its power to generate wealth and expand freedom is unmatched, but this crisis has reminded us that without a watchful eye, the market can spin out of control -- and that a nation cannot prosper long when it favors only the prosperous. The success of our economy has always depended not just on the size of our gross domestic product, but on the reach of our prosperity; on our ability to extend opportunity to every willing heart -- not out of charity, but because it is the surest route to our common good.
As for our common defense, we reject as false the choice between our safety and our ideals. Our Founding Fathers, faced with perils we can scarcely imagine, drafted a charter to assure the rule of law and the rights of man, a charter expanded by the blood of generations. Those ideals still light the world, and we will not give them up for expedience's sake. And so to all other peoples and governments who are watching today, from the grandest capitals to the small village where my father was born: Know that America is a friend of each nation and every man, woman and child who seeks a future of peace and dignity, and that we are ready to lead once more.
Recall that earlier generations faced down fascism and communism not just with missiles and tanks, but with sturdy alliances and enduring convictions. They understood that our power alone cannot protect us, nor does it entitle us to do as we please. Instead, they knew that our power grows through its prudent use; our security emanates from the justness of our cause, the force of our example, the tempering qualities of humility and restraint.
We are the keepers of this legacy. Guided by these principles once more, we can meet those new threats that demand even greater effort -- even greater cooperation and understanding between nations. We will begin to responsibly leave Iraq to its people, and forge a hard-earned peace in Afghanistan. With old friends and former foes, we will work tirelessly to lessen the nuclear threat, and roll back the specter of a warming planet. We will not apologize for our way of life, nor will we waver in its defense, and for those who seek to advance their aims by inducing terror and slaughtering innocents, we say to you now that our spirit is stronger and cannot be broken; you cannot outlast us, and we will defeat you.
For we know that our patchwork heritage is a strength, not a weakness. We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers. We are shaped by every language and culture, drawn from every end of this Earth; and because we have tasted the bitter swill of civil war and segregation, and emerged from that dark chapter stronger and more united, we cannot help but believe that the old hatreds shall someday pass; that the lines of tribe shall soon dissolve; that as the world grows smaller, our common humanity shall reveal itself; and that America must play its role in ushering in a new era of peace.
To the Muslim world, we seek a new way forward, based on mutual interest and mutual respect. To those leaders around the globe who seek to sow conflict, or blame their society's ills on the West: Know that your people will judge you on what you can build, not what you destroy. To those who cling to power through corruption and deceit and the silencing of dissent, know that you are on the wrong side of history; but that we will extend a hand if you are willing to unclench your fist.
To the people of poor nations, we pledge to work alongside you to make your farms flourish and let clean waters flow; to nourish starved bodies and feed hungry minds. And to those nations like ours that enjoy relative plenty, we say we can no longer afford indifference to suffering outside our borders; nor can we consume the world's resources without regard to effect. For the world has changed, and we must change with it.
As we consider the road that unfolds before us, we remember with humble gratitude those brave Americans who, at this very hour, patrol far-off deserts and distant mountains. They have something to tell us today, just as the fallen heroes who lie in Arlington whisper through the ages. We honor them not only because they are guardians of our liberty, but because they embody the spirit of service; a willingness to find meaning in something greater than themselves. And yet, at this moment -- a moment that will define a generation -- it is precisely this spirit that must inhabit us all.
For as much as government can do and must do, it is ultimately the faith and determination of the American people upon which this nation relies. It is the kindness to take in a stranger when the levees break, the selflessness of workers who would rather cut their hours than see a friend lose their job which sees us through our darkest hours. It is the firefighter's courage to storm a stairway filled with smoke, but also a parent's willingness to nurture a child, that finally decides our fate.
Our challenges may be new. The instruments with which we meet them may be new. But those values upon which our success depends -- hard work and honesty, courage and fair play, tolerance and curiosity, loyalty and patriotism -- these things are old. These things are true. They have been the quiet force of progress throughout our history. What is demanded then is a return to these truths. What is required of us now is a new era of responsibility -- a recognition, on the part of every American, that we have duties to ourselves, our nation and the world; duties that we do not grudgingly accept but rather seize gladly, firm in the knowledge that there is nothing so satisfying to the spirit, so defining of our character, than giving our all to a difficult task.
This is the price and the promise of citizenship.
This is the source of our confidence -- the knowledge that God calls on us to shape an uncertain destiny.
This is the meaning of our liberty and our creed -- why men and women and children of every race and every faith can join in celebration across this magnificent Mall, and why a man whose father less than 60 years ago might not have been served at a local restaurant can now stand before you to take a most sacred oath.
So let us mark this day with remembrance, of who we are and how far we have traveled. In the year of America's birth, in the coldest of months, a small band of patriots huddled by dying campfires on the shores of an icy river. The capital was abandoned. The enemy was advancing. The snow was stained with blood. At a moment when the outcome of our revolution was most in doubt, the father of our nation ordered these words be read to the people:
"Let it be told to the future world ... that in the depth of winter, when nothing but hope and virtue could survive... that the city and the country, alarmed at one common danger, came forth to meet [it]."
America. In the face of our common dangers, in this winter of our hardship, let us remember these timeless words. With hope and virtue, let us brave once more the icy currents, and endure what storms may come. Let it be said by our children's children that when we were tested, we refused to let this journey end, that we did not turn back, nor did we falter; and with eyes fixed on the horizon and God's grace upon us, we carried forth that great gift of freedom and delivered it safely to future generations.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Monday, January 05, 2009
You know that point in your life when you realize that the house that you grew up in isn't really your home anymore? All of the sudden even though you have some place where you can put your stuff that idea of home is gone.
- Garden State
My former seatmate posted this quote on her blog. I admit, I've been feeling like this quote myself.
In three hours, I will be twenty-five. I have lived in my house for something close to 17 of those years. I live in a society where families stick together no matter what, no matter how long, and it's perfectly cool that I still look out for my parents, most especially since I'm the eldest, and just simply have to.
But already I feel how more and more this house is some place I no longer call "home". My room upstairs that I share with my brother feels less and less the comforting refuge I remember back in the day. I cannot sleep there anymore, the same way you probably cannot just sleep in strange people's homes. I find that as I have grown up over the years, I am asked more responsibilities, but have only the same privileges, and they are also slowly being reduced. I cannot pick the room I want, the downstairs den, because it's not my decision to make, and I get the feeling it will never be my decision to make.
It's the same white walls with the same barking dogs and the same rotten rock music my family plays. It's the same routine of the same mornings with the sameness that feels more and more foreign and alien, not because it's changed, but because I've changed, and that my heart longs to pick its own walls, its own pets, choose its own choices of furniture and make it own mess. I long to make my own way, to get away where nobody demands me to save them. I long to make my own mistakes.
I feel it. I want out. I need to find a way away, to fly away and never be found.
- Garden State
My former seatmate posted this quote on her blog. I admit, I've been feeling like this quote myself.
In three hours, I will be twenty-five. I have lived in my house for something close to 17 of those years. I live in a society where families stick together no matter what, no matter how long, and it's perfectly cool that I still look out for my parents, most especially since I'm the eldest, and just simply have to.
But already I feel how more and more this house is some place I no longer call "home". My room upstairs that I share with my brother feels less and less the comforting refuge I remember back in the day. I cannot sleep there anymore, the same way you probably cannot just sleep in strange people's homes. I find that as I have grown up over the years, I am asked more responsibilities, but have only the same privileges, and they are also slowly being reduced. I cannot pick the room I want, the downstairs den, because it's not my decision to make, and I get the feeling it will never be my decision to make.
It's the same white walls with the same barking dogs and the same rotten rock music my family plays. It's the same routine of the same mornings with the sameness that feels more and more foreign and alien, not because it's changed, but because I've changed, and that my heart longs to pick its own walls, its own pets, choose its own choices of furniture and make it own mess. I long to make my own way, to get away where nobody demands me to save them. I long to make my own mistakes.
I feel it. I want out. I need to find a way away, to fly away and never be found.
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