Can't stop thinking of anything but this:

Sometimes my thoughts come together manically; disparate elements that seemed hopelessly unrelated and despairing magnetize and click together into ingenious compounds of passionate energy toward some uncertain but exciting horizon. I felt this way when I applied to graduate school several years ago. I'm feeling it again.

My friend told me that all of my experiences have been preparing me for my future role in helping many people. I don't know what that is yet. All I know is I feel something bubbling up inside me, almost beyond my control. I feel like I am exploding inside but with what, I don't know yet.

Have you ever had moments like this, when you feel that you know what those Pulitzer prize winning authors and Nobel laureates once experienced? It doesn't necessarily mean that you will accomplish what they have - but it doesn't mean you won't, either.

Sometimes I think about my children, who are not born yet, but are living inside me, at least a part of them. And another part of them is living inside of someone else. My children will bring the compassion out of me. I know because when I think of my child running towards me with an excited smile in his eyes, small black wondering eyes that face the world with no expectations except that his mother loves him, it makes love real to me.

Sometimes I see a grand future just within my fingertips, of these exploding thoughts inside my mind fully expressed, its complexity unfolded and translated to a world waiting for words to more fully explain its mystery. I cannot put it into words yet.

Do you ever feel these things? Am I the only one?

When my aunt talks, she rambles. And most people caught in her web want to push her and her words away. But I am fascinated. She's the only one of mom's sisters who is fully present with what she feels. I know because her humorous tales tell me so. She mocks the Filipino traditional woman, that quiet, demure, "lady-like" thing. She is not afraid of a stacked fight. She will show you her many broken bones with pride.

She has too many stories and opinions. She hates with passion. She has made me feel like killing her. Silencing her. And she makes me feel like I can silence the world by simply willing it.

In mom's family there is some kind of furious muse that guides and drives and mocks all who are born from its blood. It will be conquered but who will recognize it, much less face it in battle?