From this day onward, I’m making it official – I’ve learned to move on. I guess this is what happens when the only thing/person that you yearn for is not meant for you. I’ve learned to internalize the essence of this life lesson: “When life gives you orange and lemon, make grape juice out of it.” By looking at some flashbacks, I’ve seen tiny sparks of hope within me every time I see you…you don’t seem to notice how “kilig” those moments are for me…moments manifested by the faint smile that I give every time you throw back a simple glimpse on me..you texting me even without knowing my true identity..and these are all but a myriad of false hope that untangles the imaginary connection that I’ve made on you.. Yes, I’m still on the bargaining stage, if you still haven’t noticed the irony…this entry is still on the present tense. But I’m trying not to hold on any longer and I guess not seeing you that often helps a lot for me to fully recover. And how I wish soon, I can stand up and say without any signs of inhibitions that indeed I am grateful.. “Thank you for the sweet torture…” “Sometimes, we need to forget about the people from our past…’cause there must have been a good reason why they didn’t make it to our future..” -quoted

1. Take a picture of the New York Skyline 2. Have a my own billboard at Skyway 3. Go sky diving 4. Build a resthouse for my parents 5. Meet Chad Michael Murray 6. Go on a medical mission outside the Philippines w/o my parents consent 7. Tour around Italy! 8. Try the skinhead hairstyle 9. Have my own statue beside Rizal at Luneta Park 10. Date a famous rockstar

April 25, 2007 – summer starts officially for me. It was very traumatic because I was expecting that I already passed my Neuroanatomy. So I went home immediately by April 6 only to find out a week after that I have to take the removals exam. I went back to Manila on April 13. Again, after sleepless nights, fueled by caffeine and rubbish foods, I thanked God because I passed Neuroanatomy! I was very happy to the nth level of extremity so I bought my first two – piece swimsuit at Tomato™ as reinforcement.

          Before finally going home, I stopped over at Cebu City. I was assuming that the airport there is just located at the heart of the City, but it isn’t. It’s actually at Mactan pa which is about half an hour away from my sisters’ boarding house (now, I know). I was planning to surprise them but I was surprised on the contrary after realizing that I’m already lost. I’m in nowhere and I’m in dire need of my sisters’ help. We then went to Ocean Pearl Beach Resort at Mactan to celebrate my triumph (?). We drank, we tripped, and we sang at a videoke booth. It was as if the night is endless. The good thing was, confidence struck me like lightning and I posed with my two – piece as if no one is watching. The day after that, we went to Paseo, a newly – opened bar/square at Cebu, we partied all night and got drunk again. That’s the dizziest night that I ever had. I wanted to exude all my internal organs. My vomit smells like shit. I did not expect that that was what I will get after drinking colorful vodkas. I wanted to smoke but my sister’s boyfriend got hold of everything that’s flammable (yes of course, including cigarettes). *Note: If you’re planning to visit Cebu, I am promoting The Da Vinci’s Pizza parlor. Don’t miss that place. The pizzas are worth paying for. Try ‘em.

          When I finally got home, we went to my friend Tiger Woods’ (the female version) den – Del Monte (Cawayanon) golf course. You can spot her playing around the green grasses of hope with her colleagues Frankie Miňoza and the rest of the gang, hehe. I’m a total loser when it comes to golf. I don’t really know how to strike a ball (I mean golf ball).

          The nearest swimming pool at our place is about half an hour away from home so we made use of our mini whirl pool. With that, I realized that my height stagnates because I still fitted in that pool, just like when I was still in high school.

          I turned 20 last May 9, 2007. It was one of my happiest birthdays (well, thank God all my birthdays are happy days!) The feeling was just the same when I turned 18, only a lot more older, wiser, and stronger. (The redundancy is intentional). My high school classmates and some yfcs came. They drank beer but beer’s definitely not my type so I just passed. One of my girl friends told me that the Cecilian boys have already transformed into full – grown adults minus the “isip – bata” ideas sometimes.

          I was invited to join the YFC activity – the Youth Communications and I’m proud to be one of the pioneers. It’s a workshop wherein the youth’s potential talents will be discovered ad honed. We were trained to make different kinds of scripts, dance moves, to sing, to organize a production, video and picture editing and so on. One of my favorite activities was the color me red and dress me galore. I was chosen to be the make – up model during the color me red and it turned out to be cute. I learned a lot of techniques on how to dress like a pro during the dress me galore using only scrap clothes and the available resources. Before months of busy schoolwork and a well- deserved summer vacation, I joined the YFC chapter assembly a.k.a Fellowship: United We Stand. Seriously, there are a lot of hot spots in Bukidnon that are not yet discovered and developed. Is anyone interested? We trekked and we took pictures along the way. And we ended up swimming at Mangima Spring resort. It was like a road to heaven (seriously!). It was a showcase o fun, faith, friendship, freedom, and of course food in the yfc spirit.

          To put into use what we have learned during the YFC YComm, we were tasked to organize a Fathers’ Day Special. It’s scheduled on June 24, 2007. Unfortunately, I can’t be there because school starts by June 13. I attended the meeting and my role was a script writer/encoder na lang.

          Summer finale – the gay turned into a lady, hehe! I was chosen to be the Reyna Elena, charing talaga! It was my first and last time to join a Santa Cruzan. It was like a wedding with a gay groom, hehe, peace! Walang patawad coz rain or shine, rampa pa rin! We were like M&M’s melting in the rain. My gown was plain white with silver lining designed by Edelyn’s. My sister told me it’s simple yet elegant (fits my style). We walked a long mile that’s why my LeDonne wedge almost gave up. I wanted to walk with bare foot at that time coz it really hurts so bad. Like hell, stone freaked!

          My super last summer hang – out was last June 1, 2007. It was an overnight reunion with my high school classmates at Rodriguez Beach Resort. At the rendezvous, I wanted to cancel the plan coz there were only six people who showed up. Good thing may apat na sumunod so naging ten na. It was fun. I have had two shots lang of tequila and two sticks of lights. And I spent the rest of the night with someone close to me. From dusk to dawn effect na naman. I was very happy coz at long last complete na naman ang L-Berks, my high school group L for “Laagan” (visayan term for hang-outer or magala). We took pictures with the beautiful sunrise effect.

“Kinda wondering why the sunset is a lot more colorful than the sunrise? I guess that’s the irony of life. There is “good” in goodbyes…”

“Chance or choice? When you meet the right person to love at the right place and at the right time, that is a chance. When you meet someone you are attracted to, that’s a chance too. Being caught that there are many people out there who are more attractive, smarter, and richer than your mate and yet you decide to love your mate just the same, that’s a choice. Attraction comes to us by chance. But true love that lasts is truly a choice. Fate brings you together but it’s still up to you to make it happen. We may meet someone by chance, but loving and staying with someone is still a choice.”

Many people worry about physical their health. They have medical check – ups, watch their cholesterol, take their vitamin supplements, enroll at gyms, and go on macrobiotic diets. They read the nutrition information in the backs of food packages, and they make sure they ingest enough roughage. Good for them. But how many people are actually concerned about the state of their brains? After all, the brain runs the body, and if your brain isn’t functioning, the news is that you’re dead.

The brain is the most important organ in your body, even more important than the one we follow much of the time. The one wouldn’t work if we had no brain; in fact studies show that sex happens mostly in the brain and the rest are just delivery devices. Why then do stupid people seem to have more sex than the rest of us? because the universe has a warped sense of humor. Also, as a wise man once said, “Free your mind, and your ass will follow.”

IF THE BRAIN RUNS THE ENTIRE BODY, DOESN’T IT FOLLOW THAT PHYSICAL EXERCISE IS MENTAL EXERCISE?

Good point, Grasshopper. Physical activity is beneficial to the brain. When you walk, run, or do sports, you improve your circulation and ensure a constant supply of oxygen to your brain. However if physical exercise is mental exercise, how come the uber-buff jock in your gym can’t remember the entire alphabet?

grr..i don’t know happened to ‘lil kids nowadays..as in ‘lil..they look so innocent and angelic superficially only to find out that they are bitches inside w/LIL red horns and long tails,grr..OMG,am i dat old? neweiz, bsta juz observe those little brats around you and you’ll prove me ryt,pls agree! pa as if innocent sila but they are experts in doing stupid things like telling lies,etc..seriously! wen they’re being caught red-handed they cry and pretend that they’re innocent..as in urrgghh..i need an urgent rebuttal for this,pls..i’m in dire need of an explanation for this phenomenon..disaster..plague..or whatever name applies to this situation!

My life’s pretty messed up right now. I don’t even know how to begin with. a lot of people might find this stuff very unusual because I’m not a blogger type of person (who cares anyway? na-inspire kc ako kay ade magnaye, nominated xa for philippine blog awards 2007,eiun) But seriously, I’m an introvert who prefers to carry the emotional garbage all by myself. Not until recently…I’ve already reached my "saturation point". One thing is certain, I know what triggers all these emotions to outburst.

I hate to admit this but, I was once a stalker to a political science major guy who never even had the chanceto know me at all. I’ve already outgrown this frustration when I was in second year (perhaps!) when I preoccupied myself with things that will deviate my attention from him (like falling inlove with an insensitive guy blah..blah..blah..well, that’s another story).

But all of a sudden, that certain *feeling haunted me again - in my dreams. He kept on appearing in my dreams with no particular reason. Am I on a delusional mode again or it’s just that his presence is already turning into a nightmare coz he’s going to graduate na? One of my fave fictional close encounters with him is yung naging super tanga daw ako tapos siya yung savior ko dun sa panaginip kong yun. Yes, parang Smallville minus the katangahan nga lang. and speaking of which, nagustuhan ko yung Smallville nung nalaman kong fave nya yun.

And so much for that stalking revelation… Next in line sa mga troubles that keep me awake all night is my undecided career path. At some point, subconsciously I want to be a political scientist  - just like him! And that’s exactly the point. He influences me in a lot of ways. And he doesn’t even know that. I’ve already asked myself a million times already, what makes him different from the rest of the guys? hindi ko nga xa kilala in the first place. I just know him by name. Friends kami sa panaginip but in reality he’s totally out of reach. So to cut this story, I’ve realized na that’s why they call such thing as dream boy/dream girl coz that person only appears in your dreams. As in literally.

"Those nights when you can’t sleep, it might be because you are awake in someone else’s dream."

Note: the word *feeling in this context doesn’t mean love, cguro admiration lang or something but definitely not love.

I think of life as something like playing a game of cards. It’s a continuous fight to be on top, it tests your endurance, uncovers your desire to win, challenges your discipline and steadfastness. And I have learned that my personality towards the cards I’m dealt, influences the outcome of the game and the lessons I learn during the long and short of it. “What do you want to be when you grow up?” my kindergarten teacher asked genially. This inevitable question first hit me like a water balloon in the face. Why does she want to know? What’s it to her? Suddenly, I saw my life flash before my eyes. I was a flight stewardess, a teacher, and a doctor. What would I be? I felt as though my days of playing hopscotch were over – I had to plan my future. But there face to face with my teacher, I declared, “an airplane!” My teacher stared at me for a long time. I still wonder what was going on through her head. Maybe she thought I’m on a special medication or my parents were free – spirited hippies who taught me I could be whoever (or whatever) I wanted. Then she just smiled and turned back to the class. When I was eight, I loved acting like a grown – up. On some days I’d pretend to be a doctor and my rag dolls would be my patients. On other days, I’d play waitress – cook – and – cashier all rolled into one. I remember getting a “high” from pretending to fry eggs in my plastic frying pan, and ringing up the “cash register” (which was, in fact, just my kiddie typewriter). I thought the idea of being a grown – up was so cool, and just like every other kid, I couldn’t wait to experience the real thing. Years run so fast that it’s just like I’m taking several winks and I’m already starting to begin a new chapter of my life. It’s time for me to marvel with my ego into the realm of the real. It’s about time to face Freud’s reality principle as I journey to a so- called teenage life. You desire a college degree, a passing mark, some goal, which keeps you to go toward a more immediate possibly more pleasant objective. We all sense, therefore, that life is bounded by rules which if followed will create for us other pleasures. (Bischof, 1970) Now out of college and shoved into the real world, I realized that no matter how many times you play “pretend”, or try on my mother’s sexy stilettos, or religiously listen to her words of advice, still nothing or no one else will ever prepare me for growing up. It is something each of us must experience on our own – the joys that come with it like being able to make your own decisions and having a sense of independence, as well as the sorrows that initiate me into the adult world (like failure and discovering who my real friends are). You know what else I’ve learned? Being a grown – up isn’t just about having curfew – less gimmicks, but it’s also about being responsible enough to go home at a good hour. It’s not about the spending power to buy whatever you fancy, nut also practicing restraint and being able to save up for something bigger. Being a grown – up is not just about being older, but also about being old enough to know better. There have been many times in my life when I somehow felt a year wiser, a year stronger – but not necessarily older: When I had to own up to certain things and not put the blame on anyone else (Yes Ma, I was really the one who plugged the microwave oven at 220 socket, I’m sorry). And it’s when I needed to confront a trusted friend who had betrayed me, which was actually my first heartache. That’s why it’s too hard for me to trust anyone else. Little by little I can feel the effects of the so – called moral anxiety. Anxiety is a state of tension, it is a drive like hunger or sex but instead arising from internal tissue conditions. It is produced originally by external causes. When anxiety is aroused, it motivates the person to do something. He may flee from the threatening region, inhibit the dangerous impulse, or obey the voice of the conscience. (Hall, 1970) I’m starting to feel weak and disappointed as feelings of shame, guilt and incompetence rush down through my veins. This weakness I think, will hinder my work as an occupational therapist someday. And I fear the day when I become an adult, because I think the world will surely fall to pieces. When people will look at me, they will evaluate through lenses with suspicion, mistrust and doubt. Moral anxiety is the fear of the conscience. The person with a well – developed superego tends to feel guilty when he does something or even thinks of doing something that is contrary to the moral code by which he has been raised. (Hall, 1970) This is what we feel when the threat comes not from the outer physical world, but from the internalized social world of the superego. But somehow, others don’t know that I’m hard – working, caring and compassionate. I’m an athlete, sister, student and friend. I laugh and cry. I speak out and brood. I love, dislike, and show indifference. I will be the next Nobel Prize winner, best – selling author, life – saving surgeon, president, or beloved teacher. I have lofty dreams and the ambition to make them real. I have the determination and self – discipline to see every goal surpassed. These positive traits, I think, will help me overcome my weakness as an occupational therapist in the future. I perceive myself according to Holland’s General Occupational Themes as an artistic person who “…avoid problems that are highly structured; see themselves as expressive, original, intuitive, creative, introspective, and independent.” (Christiansen, 2004) I’m here in college not just to party and have fun, but also to pull myself one step closer to the destination I desire. One day, one person at a time, I will show those who judge that they are wrong. When I’m an adult, there will be a new collection of disrespectful, reckless, hateful youth. Maybe, just maybe, when I look at them, I will see through the labels and see the promises of a future generation. By now I am simply and proudly myself. As the saying goes, “The things you hate about me are the things that made me true, part of who really I am. So it’s better that you hate me for who I am than like me for being someone who I pretend to be. Right now, I am someone like me. I’m not a whole and complete like some people. There is this huge part of my life that fragments me – gaps all over the place. Sadly, it keeps me from enjoying life and liking the person I wish to become. But someday, somehow, I will smile true and be the “me” I so desperately want to discover. Words cannot describe what it is like to exist in a world that is not my own. I walk around looking and sounding like myself but my thoughts and life no longer belong to me. I’m taking into account Freud’s defense mechanism, which is known as sublimation or the conversion of an unacceptable impulse into a socially acceptable, even productive form. Life is not perfect. But successfully conquering my imperfections, and coming out triumphantly over my problems and all others is what makes life really worth living. When my life was quickly falling out of my hands and reality wasn’t within reach, I felt hopeless. I needed to find a way somehow, someone or something to influence me in a better way by helping me out of the major hole I had dug myself into. And I guess these things serve as a trademark that I’m unique. Everyone has a style of life but no two people develop the same style. (Hall, 1970) To be an effective allied health professional that I hope to become, I motivate myself to use positive thoughts to reaffirm both my conscious and subconscious mind. When the going gets tough, it is even more imperative that I should not forget to practice this. It is easy to fall into a slump, and if I don’t recognize that has happened, it would be easy to enter a downward spiral that will take me out of reach of my success goals. And to be successful, I need to strive for what I want, even when it feels as if I am never going to get there. I have no stock answer to offer about a life – changing experience or a moment of enlightenment, and it is hard for me to give a comprehensive proclamation of who I am, for my identity unfolds more everyday as my experiences grow. Since I’m only 18, life has a lot of unfolding to do. I dislike saying “I am trying to find myself” because my identity is not lost, it just needs more uncovering. Mostly, I like what is unearthed, though this varies depending on how “teenage girlish” I’m feeling. I’m not worried that I don’t know everything about myself. As I get older, I’ll figure it out. Everyday my experience and knowledge increase, and I learn more about myself. Each time I write in my journal what is in my head honestly as I can, another piece of the identity puzzle is revealed. In card games, a lot of people don’t face the prospects of losing very well. This is a matter of rising to the challenge that adversity presents. A big secret of playing cards (and of life) is that much of the skills. What I need to develop to win rely heavily on the personality and attitude I choose to have in times when I’m totally down. Sure, it’s so easy to fold my hand and give up – but I decide not to go through when I do. The tougher road to take is to choose to sink. There are no guarantees that I will always be dealt a winning hand in life; what I can be sure of is that the tougher times can help make winning in my future a greater possibility.

I hope my sense of time is not impaired yet but I think we are a month away from summer and this school year’s gonna end soon. I guess this summer’s gonna be a life - changing event fo me not only because I don’t have summer classes but also because I’m turning twenty and I’m a teenager no more. And before anyhting else turn to gray, i’d like to share this checklist that I so desperately want to accomplish hopefully by the end of summer. Although some of the things listed here were already accomplished (doing them twice may not be a big deal).

1. Date a famous rockstar

2. Make a scrapbook

3. Pass Neuroanatomy

4. Interview a senatoriable

5. Try something NEW, get high with it, shout out loud, and experience the "extremes"

6. Go skinny - deeping/surfing (hopefully sa Boracay, hehe!)

7. Organize a party / debut

8. Apply for a profit - wise part -time job

9. Do a successful surgery kahit sa isang cat lang

10. Go on a medical mission outside the Philippines (even w/o my parents permission)

*numbers 1&6 are negotiable

This school year has unfolded my personality a lot. It prunes me to death as in literally. But along the way, I have learned a lot of life lessons, big ones.

1. Spending money that you have earned with your own sweat and blood is as difficult as practicing restraint and not being able to buy whatever you fancy.

2. I find it difficult to think how to think because the brain small as it is has a very complicated nature.

3. I hate to admit this, but recently, I noticed that I’m already infected with this so called "obsessive - compulsive" syndrome. As in tipong i want every little thing in my life to be organized. (ex. all my dress in my cabinet should follow a color scheme, i don’t keep rotten bills, etc.)

4. My greatest fear is that one day I’ll wake up only to realize that one of my limbs is gone and voila, I’m already an amputee

5. All people are basically selfish - self - centered. The words I, me and my will always be a part of your reason why you should accomplish something (i need a rebuttal to this).

6. Pamatay beauty queen questions from Jed: what is the essence?, given a chance, what is it and how?, do you think? answer: i think so!

          I can’t give my two – cent feelings every time I got sick or injured way back my toddler years. My mom told me that I was a normal developing child who often got fever, chills, cold, and cough when I was about months to four years old. She also told me that I was once a picky eater as oppose to what I am now. I used to fuss at mealtime and she felt bad about my eating habits because she thought I will not grow well. She fed me to get to eat more and if she lets me feed myself, I won’t eat enough and I will get messy. She had to push the spoon into my mouth or made tricks to distract or entertain me. She chased me around the house to get more food. That’s why I was a clumsy kid back then who always got a scar on my knees. I have also undergone this “purga” process. My mom gave me Antiox and voila!, “cute” creatures came out wriggling from my butt (Actually, they’re so cute I’d like to eat them like pasta if only they were not bad).

          I’ve got measles when I was five and chickenpox when I was six. I looked so disgusting. I asked my mom if there’s a cure, but she told me there’s none ( I mean there is but only for the fever). She told me not to worry because I was vaccinated when I was an infant. That might not be a cure but it will help decrease the damage or intensity that I might get. And if ever I get chickenpox in the future, my body already has the antibodies to fight them back. That will likely lessen the damage and its effects.

          When I was in my first grade, I got sore eyes and my mom gave me Visine and tinted sunglasses. And everything’s back to normal not until I reached fifth grade. I had this urinary tract infection or UTI as it’s popularly known. It’s the most nerve – wracking disease that I’ve got so far considering the intensity of pain (actually, I have low threshold for pain). It hurts so bad that’s why I couldn’t even sleep. I looked like a walking stick for a week. I was admitted at Polymedic. I have been dextrosed. Nurses gave me this white liquid whose generic and brand name I can’t remember. But I’m pretty sure it’s not semen. When I was twelve, I’ve got my menarche (I was terrified, I thought my anus was bleeding. Add this to the hassles that a woman undergoes). And on that very same day, something spurted into my right thumb like a mushroom that popped out of nowhere – it’s a wart. And coupled with this is acne in the ventral part of my upper arm. I was not guilty because I’m still sticking to my proper daily hygiene. It’s just that something’s not right. And then again, my mom told me not to worry because it will eventually disappear and fortunately it did. Thanks to Katialis.

          Here comes another skin disease . They used to call it “butlig” but it’s somehow different. I can’t remember the specific name of that skin disease but the dermatologist told us that it is genetic and its possible that I have inherited it from my father who used to have one. It’s actually fat accumulations surrounding the eyes. The doctor had it cauterized and then it never showed up again. I also have hair fall when I was in second year high. I thought I have cancer and was about to die. My mom told me that I’m so fickle – minded to think about such a thing to the fact that a cancer patient gets hair fall when he/she is already in coma, which is I was not. The doctor told me to just decrease the amount of shampoo that I use everyday.

          And everything’s back to normal again not until I’ve entered UP. I’ve taken this Math11 thing which scared the hell out of me. My scores were so disappointing. I channeled my depression through eating. I ate, eat a lot and ate more even if I’m already full. It came to a point wherein my stomach got saturated (like in a hypertonic solution, I guess). It didn’t swell, but what I got is dyspepsia. It was late in the evening, I was rushed to PGH because I can no longer bear the pain. The doctor told me to eat moderately. No rice or anything “heavyweight” for a week, just plain porridge. It sucks a lot! I think I was being punished for being so “matakaw”. And they gave me this med whose name I can’t remember again.

          But the most distressing thing that happened to me is when my life was in a blur, I mean literally. My vision “increased” to 100/100. Its so ironic because I can clearly see the cute ophthalmologists at PGH but I can’t see those letters at the Snell en’s chart. I’ve attempted to memorize them but I failed. All I see are dots (lots of them). I was required to wear those stupid glasses so that I can adjust but I feel uncomfortable so I only used it when you know, when things don’t go my way.

          In general, I still consider myself healthy because I possess at least one of the “The Ten Signs of Good Nutrition from Nido – good appetite.

“…that is precisely what we need philosophers for. We do not need them to choose a beauty queen or the days bargain in tomatoes. Philosophers will try to ignore highly topical affairs and instead try to draw people’s attention to what really is eternally ‘true’, eternally ‘beautiful’, eternally ‘good’. – Sophie’s World

            There’s a slight difference between pretty and beautiful. When someone is pretty, one has a good appearance. But when one is beautiful, he/she shines on the inside and out. The activity of art is based on the fact that a man, receiving through his sense of hearing or sight another man’s expression of feeling, is capable of experiencing the emotion which moved the man who expressed it. To take the simplest example; one man laughs, and another who hears becomes merry; or a man weeps, and another who hears feels sorrow. A man is excited or irritated, and another man seeing him comes to a similar state of mind. By his movements or by the sounds of his voice, a man expresses courage and determination or sadness and calmness, and this state of mind passes on to others. A man suffers, expressing his sufferings by groans and spasms, and this suffering transmits itself to other people; a man expresses his feeling of admiration, devotion, fear, respect, or love to certain objects, persons, or phenomena, and others are infected by the same feelings of admiration, devotion, fear, respect, or love to the same objects, persons, and phenomena.

Art begins when one person, with the object of joining another or others to him in one and the same feeling, expresses that feeling by certain external indications. To take the simplest example: a boy, having experienced, let us say, fear on encountering a wolf, relates that encounter; and, in order to evoke in others the feeling he has experienced, describes himself, his condition before the encounter, the surroundings, the woods, his own lightheartedness, and then the wolf’s appearance, its movements, the distance between himself and the wolf, etc. All this, if only the boy, when telling the story, again experiences the feelings he had lived through and infects the hearers and compels them to feel what the narrator had experienced is art. If even the boy had not seen a wolf but had frequently been afraid of one, and if, wishing to evoke in others the fear he had felt, he invented an encounter with a wolf and recounted it so as to make his hearers share the feelings he experienced when he feared the world, that also would be art. And just in the same way it is art if a man, having experienced either the fear of suffering or the attraction of enjoyment (whether in reality or in imagination) expresses these feelings on canvas or in marble so that others are infected by them. And it is also art if a man feels or imagines to himself feelings of delight, gladness, sorrow, despair, courage, or despondency and the transition from one to another of these feelings, and expresses these feelings by sounds so that the hearers are infected by them and experience them as they were experienced by the composer.

Art is not, as the metaphysicians say, the manifestation of some mysterious idea of beauty or God; it is not, as the aesthetical physiologists say, a game in which man lets off his excess of stored-up energy; it is not the expression of man’s emotions by external signs; it is not the production of pleasing objects; and, above all, it is not pleasure; but it is a means of union among men, joining them together in the same feelings, and indispensable for the life and progress toward well-being of individuals and of humanity.