Drab, Desolate, and Deserted
It just occurred to me that since I can’t remember way back when, I have been the only one posting on the walls of this “closed group.” So had I not been gallivanting hereabouts, could this thread have been utterly empty? Or if I would drop dead tomorrow or sooner, this thread would be completely empty and nobody would have even noticed it.
The opposite view needs to be examined: If I were not here
would the thread be teeming with Clanspersons aching to share their anguish on
something or another? It should be worth
finding out. But how so?
It has an eerily unsettling feeling akin to watching one of
those old episodes of “The Twilight Zone,”
where the place appears to be ghastly abandoned as a ghost town and everything
seems out of kilter.
Gee, it’s so miserable to be so important. It gives me more than enough motivation to
quit, while I’m ahead, that is.
I looked much further back and I finally found on Eya Nemusa’s
wall two picture-posts of 1-Feb-14.
Misery certainly loves company.
Two questions immediately came to mind: (1) What am I doing
here, practically all by myself? And (2) has my presence actually driven people
away from here?
The second question is rather difficult to find the answer
to. It simply is not that easy for me to
find who had come by after I had left the place. This is maybe a fitting argument to get
myself a remote monitoring setup.
The next (to last) ‘not me’-category post was by Ruffneil Asumen Cayron on
4-Dec-13 ~~showing a charming picture of MARY
RUTCHANE ASUMEN CAYRON for Miss SWU (Cebu) 2014.
Next in the anomalies roster is Shiela Mae Asumen’s
wall of 23-Oct-13 on Random Acts of
Senseless Violence.
If memory serves me correctly, this group (and its attendant
thread) was established as a forum in an attempt to reach a consensus on how
best to dispose of the Clan inheritance in a manner consistent with and abiding
by the spirit and letter of Mother’s published Last Will and Testament. But as it behooves any Clan in traditions
immemorial, instead of resonating in harmony, we uncovered discordance too
poignant to discard and disregard.
Grievances were exchanged.
Feathers were rumpled. And egos
were bruised. The question remains: why
am I still here? Who else cares?
The temptation is deliciously irresistible to just follow
the bidding of Brenda Lee
and with
her, sing along:
Walk away and live a life that's fullWith no regretsAnd don't look back at it, just try to forgetWhy build a dream that cannot come trueSo be stronger touch the stars nowWalk away walk on
Alternately, I might try to channel Frank Sinatra’s Angel Eyes and
take to heart the very
last line:
Pardon me but I got to runThe fact's uncommonly clearI got to find who's now the number oneAnd why my angel eyes ain't hereExcuse me while I disappear
Only time could tell if we still find anything worth coming home to. A short sabbatical may very well be what the doctor
would order. Then I may yet share in
substance the guarded optimism of Dr. Jose Rizal:
Then will oblivion bring to me no careAs over thy vales and plains I sweep;Throbbing and cleansed in thy space and airWith color and light, with song and lament I fare,Ever repeating the faith that I keep.
~~ Jose Rizal, My Last Farewell (Trans. Charles Derbyshire)
The second question actually presents a quasi-Yogi Berra moment. To wit, "The place is so crowded, nobody comes here anymore."
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