The Flight of the Rocketman

Imagination is more important than knowledge. -- Albert Einstein

Had a wonderful talk with my brother, you know, to help put certain things in perspective, and I ended up thinking about a lot of things.

There really is something about proximity. The dangers and the pitfalls of it can be quite confusing at times. Sometimes, being so close to someone can make that person so important to you, you end up valuing them more and more as each day passes. You might even think you are in love with that person. But given just one week away from that person, you may begin to wonder why the feelings are no longer the same.

And then take for instance the other edge of that sword: a friend whose company you enjoy becomes your day-to-day companion, hell, maybe even room mate and all of a sudden, all the little things just start to annoy you and irritate you and you can't stand this person anymore. Anything this person says just pisses you off and rubs you the wrong way. You end up looking for space and after a month or so of not seeing each other, the moment that you do again, you have a laugh about it and end up becoming the closest friends again but always conscious of your distance.

It's also the same with family, I suppose. The ones you are with are the ones that you always understand, whose sides you see and whose words and actions affect you the most. Whereas the ones from a far you may care less about (but not love any less) and have all these warm wishes and friendly prayers for but not really seek out in times of need.

But then again, there are also the family members so close to you, physically too near that you end up pushing away and hoping and rushing for the family that is not near to you; whom you always think of in the best of situations.

It's just that you aren't so near them that you always remember that which is good and brush aside so quickly what is bad. There is that moment of reflection. And then there are those who are so near to you, you see them for exactly who they are, the good and the bad and you can't help but feel too strongly about things that you look for distance and space.

There is something about proximity that creates some much in the distance between two people. The farther you are, the space in-between is one of fantasy and memory yet we never really take fantasy and memory too seriously in comparison to how we accept what is real. And the closer you are to someone, the space in-between is harsh reality and we are always very critical over reality that we always run to dreams and fantasy.

It's a never-ending cycle and in my family that keeps moving around from Manila to Bacolod, Bacolod to Manila and back again, Cebu, Los Banos and even the United States, we are hit so badly by these sudden shifts of feelings and attitudes towards people. Sometimes you don't know what happened and why you feel the way you do.

And there is always experience and real memory, the memories that we treasure even if they are not favourable, even if they remind us of bad things, memories not peppered by what we need them to be but remember exactly for how it happened. These help us define how close and how far we want other people to be.

My Mother moved to Bacolod for good, leaving my brother and I orphans in Manila with only each other now to run to if trouble boils ever so slowly. I don't know how to feel about that.

I've been living alone and independently since May of last year. I've been reliant on myself for my day-to-day life. It has always been about me.

Sometimes, it's nice to visit my brother who always reminds me that no matter how far I run to try and stand up for myself, my family is always two steps behind, chasing after me waiting to see if I'll ask for their help to stand up again if ever I should fall.

I guess, when love is involved, there are spaces we cannot measure and there are people that cannot be eliminated by dream, fantasy or reality. They will always be what they are to you, no matter what time and action has done to try and change that.

And now that things seem so empty; I realise it isn't all that empty after all...