Perhaps not to be is to be without your being

One of my favourite poems by my favourite poet, Pablo Neruda.

Perhaps not to be is to be without your being,
without your going, that cuts noon light
like a blue flower, without your passing
later through fog and stones,
without the torch you lift in your hand
that others may not see as golden,
that perhaps no one believed blossomed
the glowing origin of the rose,
without, in the end, your being, your coming
suddenly, inspiringly, to know my life,
blaze of the rose-tree, wheat of the breeze:
and it follows that I am, because you are:
it follows from ‘you are’, that I am, and we:
and, because of love, you will, I will,
We will, come to be.

Departure

In all my young life I've never been put in a position where someones emotions were entirely controlled depending upon the words that would come out of my mouth. Let's just say, there's a first time for everything. My brother's mother passed away today, April 26th 2011, which coincidentally happens to be the birthday of my sister - this will be a day to remember. My mother and I had the responsibility of delivering this heart wrenching news to my brother. My mom uttered the words while I could do nothing but spread my arms wide open for my brother so as to physically let him to know that I would be there for him henceforth. When I shut my eyes I still remember his face so clearly right before he broke down - a semi dazed as well as glazed look crossed his face, it was disconcerting and I was completely taken aback by it. When he left to go to his room to find some solace in the photographs and memories of his mother, I still didn't believe it was entirely safe to let him be on his own, so I followed him. I sat down on his bed and let cry on my lap until his sobs subsided to mere hiccups and finally lead him to a somewhat peaceful slumber. Even though he was snoring lightly and fully gone, the vestige of his pain was present in his quivering body.

May you rest in peace Laura.

Cogito ergo sum.

I seem to be living a seemingly never ending cycle of deep contemplation and trying to rationalize beyond a point where things become irrational. The statement above holds an inherit truth for me, a type of unconscious memoir, one of those phrases that may be found in a climax of a novel that deals exclusively with identity plots. For me the quote, "I think, therefore I am," does mean that I believe that my ability to think serves as a testament for my existence on this earth. That's the inconsequential part of it, I already know I'm there. Instead, when placed in the context of my personal story, cogito ergo sum is summoning the will to reshape myself - something that I've been constantly doing. Moving from one absolute to another, that moment where mere thoughts - at times dangerous thoughts - become your truth. The only truth you want to accept, the only truth you can accept.