Quiet Storm


How many times have I drowned myself? My body always washes ashore and comes back to life. In horror films, death is the antagonist, whether it’s in the form of the living dead (zombies and vampires), a ghost, or existential threat from a monster. But in reality, horror is being alive but feel dead inside.






If wrecked upon the Shoal of Thought

If wrecked upon the Shoal of Thought
How is it with the Sea?
The only Vessel that is shunned
Is safe—Simplicity—

– Emily Dickinson




The unchained mind can create poetry, skyscrapers and theorems, but it can also destroy the thinker. For much of last year, my mind was a stormy sea and it wasn’t until recently that the weather has calmed down. However, my relief has a tint of somberness as floating debris marinate in the water.

A wreckage.

How many ships have I destroyed so far? I stopped counting years ago. In Manobo mythology, Amanikable was the god of the sea. He was notorious for his violent temper. But I understood that his anger was just a cheap disguise for what he truly felt: grief.

You see, his lover was cast away by the goddess of beauty, Maganda. As vengeance, Amanikable created storms that destroyed countless ships. The dark clouds above the sea were not rumbling in anger, but bellowing in sorrow.




Neurons pass electrical signals to other neurons, creating micro-static in my brain. In my mind, they are thunder and lightning. I make an effort everyday to quiet the waves and pierce the dark clouds with sun rays. Every morning, I break bread with Amanikable.

Neuroscientists say that new synapses are formed whenever you learn new information. So what are my neurons passing to each other that is worth all this lightning? What have I learned so far?

My memory is filled with zettabyes of useless data. I am an idiot. But this I know:

I have no right to destroy others in my grief and that a calm sea is easier to navigate.

It’s common sense. I don’t know why it took me years to learn that.