While Typhoon Falcon was raging outside, I was stuck in my warm, cozy palace called Philippine General Hospital. Taft Avenue was like a moat surrounding this colossal structure, so my 24-hour duty was relatively quiet and free from the barrage of patients invading the establishment. A marketplace - that's the usual scenario in this place. Yesterday, I spent half my time taking advantage of the fringe benefits my low-paying job affords - free internet.
Outside my window, I could see torrential rains pouring down the city. The sky was like an Emo over-acting lady who can't stop crying. She has been having her tantrums for the past 48 hours and she still hasn't stopped. I fear another Ondoy. I am a rain lover but I don't welcome another Ondoy. It's just too much.
Last night, I had this rare chance of chatting with an old friend, His Royal Weirdness otherwise known as My Friend J of the McDreamy Fame. I haven't seen him for some time. But as mentioned before, in my previous entries, conversations with him are always better than anything I could ever think of. They're so good I had to avoid them.
Anyway, we talked about the rains, the beautiful inconsistencies of life, and the diverging paths of our inertia - his towards unstoppable restlessness and mine towards remaining still. Life has been good to both of us, I believe. Connections of this sort make me think of karma, or destiny, or unexplained phenomena that you'd rather leave unexplained.
Then I remember Ondoy. Storms come and go. Sometimes they come when you need them the most, to rid your life of certain unnecessary rubbish. Sometimes, they just come, for no reason at all.
Perhaps lightning strikes the same place twice. Thrice. Many more times. Perhaps storms follow the exact same path. Perhaps parallel lines meet in the end. Perhaps the things we avoid are the things we need, and the things that hurt us the most are the same things that keep us alive.