After dark
08 May 2012 Leave a Comment
in E, sadness and everything along with it
He was a boring piece of shit. But he was my boring piece of shit. And amidst the excitement I mostly enjoy out of being single; sometimes, in all the hubbub and the wild mix of alcohol and music and laughter, I somehow find myself—only for a few minutes, though—sitting in one of the cubicles of a bathroom in a bar and crying my heart out like there was no tomorrow. And my sobs drown out the music and my tears cloud my view of the mirror I can’t even look into. And I throw up all my wretched feelings into the sink. And I brush my hair—and the look desolation—out of my face. And I admit for a few seconds that sometimes, in my most vulnerable state of drunkenness and misery, I do miss the monotony from spending time with such a boring piece of shit.
But no. I don’t want any of it back. And he wasn’t really such a bore. And was I really that drunk?
Bite-sized philosophies from an overly chaotic mind
24 Apr 2012 Leave a Comment
in philosophy, random thoughts and crazy wonderings, relationships--or lack thereof, sadness and everything along with it
Because I tweet and sometimes I do make sense.
- Do not let other people trivialize what you feel.
- Nostalgia can be crippling.
- One of my biggest frustrations is people liking me for the wrong reasons, and not liking me for the right ones.
- It takes a lot of guts and sacrifice and a little insanity to become a corporate writer.
- I wish there was some kind of emotional defibrillator, so I could just shock my life back to its normal beat and forget it ever happened.
- I need to make new memories to make up for lost ones.
- Sometimes, finding someone you get along with and who understands you, even if it doesn’t last, is enough to make you feel better.
- Just because it didn’t last, doesn’t mean it wasn’t great.
- At the end of the day, I still go back to wanting you.
- Girls who read are different from girls who write.
- Times really have changed. Before, you throw up in front of a stranger, they get disgusted. Today, they add you on Facebook.
- I am a fucking idiot. Gosh, sometimes my own stupidity astounds me.
- My heart is like a spotlight. When you’re in it, you’re the only focus.
- I need to sleep and wake up at the same time.
- Not easy being yellow.
- Woke up feeling Blaah. But it was better than waking up feeling like i want to jump to my death or something.
- Sometimes logic takes time. Right now I might feel like I’m stuck in a limbo, but later I will appreciate my freedom. I will, just you wait.
- Give me the blue pill. I want to take the blue pill.
- Sharing happiness is the source of happiness.
- There are some things a chocolate cake won’t fix.
- Easy to catch someone’s attention. the challenge is keeping it.
- This morning, I started off with writing, “you intrigue me…” but so far, I haven’t come up with a way to say exactly why.
- Letting go of hate and bitterness is a difficult process but it’s worth it and in the end, the happiest will be YOU.
- Suicide is deeper than death.
- I’m one of those people who shoo people away and then bitch about not having real friends.
- Rediscovering music by going through old folders. Always fun.
- I am not easily impressed. A terrible realization because it means I have the highest standards even I can’t achieve. Bah, humbug.
- Everyone thinks everyone else’s job is easy.
- I wonder if mediocrity could be a legacy.
Hope springs eternal (?)
02 Apr 2012 Leave a Comment
in philosophy, quotes that make you go whoa, random thoughts and crazy wonderings, sadness and everything along with it
I met (who I thought was) the love of my life through “unconventional” means. I met one of my best friends when we clicked instantly back in college. Both of them screwed me over for another person. Was my heart crushed? To pieces. Have I fully recovered? Not yet, but hopefully soon. Do I have a point? Yes, I do.
What I realized today is that people will choose to fuck you, regardless of how special you think your relationship was; regardless of the endless nights spent staying up late, sharing your deepest darkest secrets and making pinky promises; regardless of would-be happy-ever-afters; regardless of those memories you still hold so dear in your heart; regardless of how close you were or how much you loved each other; regardless if you were best friends instantly or lovers for many years. They will not only hurt you. They will tear you apart before they leave you. Those you loved the most will leave the deepest scars, and that’s a fact. It doesn’t happen to everyone (thank goodness), but it does happen.
Does that mean you stop taking a chance on others? No. But it doesn’t mean that you have to be unbelievably daft, either.
I don’t think I will ever stop going after what I think is right. There is no other way.
And I cannot repeat this often enough: I am thankful for the people who are still in my life. Because every day is a decision to stay or go.
“If you try it, you will be lonely often, and sometimes frightened. But no price is too high to pay for the privilege of owning yourself.” –Nietzsche
Reality bites
20 Mar 2012 Leave a Comment
in sadness and everything along with it
Life is much easier in books and movies. For one thing, you already know the story’s going to end, one way or another. You know from the very beginning, the moment you turn the first page or hear the 20th Century Fox music—there you are, set to see something end.
But this is my reality. I don’t know when this will all end, or how it will end. I will not suddenly transform into a confident go-getter, driven by heartbreak and motivated by what lies ahead. I will not radiate with positive energy all of a sudden, strut happily down the street with a big smile on my face, with upbeat music about life being great playing in the background. And there certainly won’t be any knight in shining armour—who’s unbelievably good-looking and charming, and suspiciously single—to save me from falling into the bottomless pit I’m currently headed for. No, that’s not how my reality goes.
This is my reality. The sleepless nights, the uneventful mornings and the dragging afternoons. The overwhelming sadness and the palpable silence from being alone at home most days. The agony of waking up to the same thought a thousand times, over and over and over.
I don’t know when this will all end. There is no climax, no denouement, no happy ending I could foresee. Because I have to feel this. I have to wallow in pain, get used to the sadness and resist the pull to jump into another ocean of possibilities for the wrong reasons and without a life vest.
I know this. I know what’s not. But it doesn’t change how I feel.
Everything’s changing
14 Mar 2012 Leave a Comment
in E, rants, sadness and everything along with it
It hit me today. There is a big difference between finding happiness by yourself and dealing with sadness by yourself. The past month, I’ve tried hard to find happiness in other things, as advised by friends. I’ve looked to the little details, read books that made me laugh, talked to strangers who have given me new perspective in life and books and people.
I didn’t realize it’s only one half of the recovery process. I’ve focused so much on being happy that I’ve taken for granted how I would deal when I get lonely and feel absolutely alone and helpless. Today, problems came pouring in at the same fucking time. What is it about March that compels people to make life-changing decisions (and, mind you, it’s not even their own lives—it’s MINE)?
First thing in the morning, the potential buyer of the house came to talk to me and discussed briefly the possible arrangement we may have next week. Hopefully, the deal pushes through, but it still put me on edge. A few hours later, my boss told me I have an interview tomorrow with the ASEAN Recruitment Marketing Lead from Malaysia, because they’re considering me for the position I had no idea about until yesterday afternoon. I’m sure it’s a good opportunity when you look at it a certain way, but I wasn’t—am not—ready to suddenly evaluate my goals just like that. Yesterday, I was in a safe place. Everything was the same. Today, everything’s changed and I’m not the single bit ready for it. I’m not even sure if I’m going to accept the move, but the mere thought of having the interview rattles me.
Then a mere hour earlier the postman hands me an envelope that nearly made me faint. I won’t go into detail, but fortunately I was able to sort it out a bit FOR NOW. There is still something that I need to settle by next week at the latest and I don’t know how I’m going to fucking do it.
And amidst all this, I kept thinking, “I need to tell E. I need him to tell me what to do!” But like I said, it hit me that I, in fact, can’t just go and tell him about how my life is suddenly falling apart in less than 24 hours. I can’t go running to him to bitchslap my woes away. I just can’t.
And that’s when I started crying.
I know, I can already bring myself to smile and laugh and make jokes and not be a total buzzkill when I’m with friends. But it’s just so different when you realize that when everything starts falling apart, there’s still one person you want to comfort you.
Fuck it. Everything has changed.
And in that moment, I swear we were infinite
09 Feb 2012 Leave a Comment
in E, love and cheesiness, sadness and everything along with it, traveling (whether real or unreal)
I have been awake for over 36 hours, but I won’t be able to sleep until I’ve written about a bit of what happened the past two days. It was emotional hell, I’ll tell you that much. Tuesday and Wednesday molded into one very long night, and it still hasn’t ended for me. To say that what happened last night was unexpected is a big understatement. Even I didn’t know I could do such bravery (or foolishness?). It went from bad to worse, to emotional breakdown, to resolution and finally, to redemption.
Last night was unbelievably unbelievable, I swear. But there are things that only an early morning motorcycle ride (at 100kph along C5) can fix. It was exhilarating—the sound of the wind blowing my hair, the cars whirring past us in a blur, the cold morning chill and the dawn breaking while we sped up as if we were in competition with the sunrise. It was what I needed to get rid of the previous night’s worries.
And I felt it. I really felt infinite—that we were infinite. And I could think of nothing else that could have made me happier.
###
Almost There
07 Feb 2012 Leave a Comment
in sadness and everything along with it
I have no one. My two best friends are not in the country. Whenever I have something urgent to tell them, I almost always have to wait for a few hours before I could read their response.
I’m annoyingly impatient about some things. It’s a lifelong struggle and battling it is like a slow, painful death.
There are things that you hope will get you Somewhere but sometimes gets you Nowhere. It hurts, but not as much as getting to Almost There and seeing it—whatever it is—disappear forever instead. Without warning. Without a fallback. Just gone.
For the agony, I’d rather know
05 Feb 2012 Leave a Comment
in sadness and everything along with it
Knowing that someone you care about died is one thing; looking inside his coffin is another. Losing someone to sickness is one thing; knowing that he committed suicide is not the same. Suicide raises more questions than answers; it shoves you down an unending pit of the unknown, leaves you in the dark forever. It will drive you crazy to ask the same questions over and over and over again and not get answers—because the only person who could give you the answers is gone.
It’s not even the death that’s unbearable. It’s that person’s own decision to cease to live; to make a final statement that there is no other alternative but to stop living, that no one in the entire world could make a difference. The finality of suicide is numbing. For that person, it was the only way. For the rest of us, it doesn’t make sense.
Sometimes we come to a point where we just can’t make sense of the things that happen to our lives anymore. And the only thing that does make sense is to accept that they can never make sense.
###
Goodbye, Ned. I never got a chance to know you but wherever you are, I hope you don’t feel alone anymore.
First time
04 Feb 2012 Leave a Comment
in E, happy thoughts, love and cheesiness
February 4, 2006 was six years ago already yet I can remember exactly how I felt that day. I never told my friends about it before because I was afraid I would jinx it, but you know what, I think six years is enough to keep something a secret.
It was a Saturday and we were required to attend a half-day seminar at school. By noon, I was only too happy to get out and meet with E, who was waiting for me outside the gate (so high school teen sensation). We went to Robinson’s Place Manila because I told him if we just hung out at SM Manila, there was a big chance my friends would stalk us.
We went to see Saw IV because it just opened the previous week. We were quiet almost the entire two-hour movie. I was too engrossed with the film and there were even some moments when I completely forgot I was with someone. It must have been that obvious, because at one point E whispered to me, “sige wag mo na ko pansinsin,” and that pulled me back to reality—that it was our first date since we became “official” just a few days previously. I smiled at him and he held my hand for the first time ever since we met in November 2005 (I know).
I smiled at him again and we awkwardly held hands. I tried to concentrate at watching the movie, but I couldn’t pay attention anymore. How could I when here was the boy I liked holding my hand tightly? I couldn’t even move my entire arm. I was probably scared that if I moved a single muscle, he would let go of me.
When the movie finished he was still holding my hand. And when I turned to look at him, he smiled at me for a moment—as if looking for some kind of encouragement from me—then he kissed my hand. I felt violated!—no, just kidding. I felt butterflies in my stomach and I felt like my heart was going to burst. I don’t remember how we “unheld” hands. I am pretty sure our fingers were still interlocked when we came out of the theater and the mall.
So that was the first date (as a couple), first holding hands extravaganza and first kiss with E. 
This is madness, I tell you
31 Jan 2012 Leave a Comment
in philosophy, whatnot
We all have our crazy side. The frequency of it surfacing up is what differs us from one another. And I’m afraid that if I read J.D. Salinger’s Franny and Zooey again, my weirdness would surface up permanently. It just has that effect on me. It fires up everything inside me that I’ve always tried to keep level. Nonetheless, I love the book to pieces. It’s just that sometimes we have to choose to be sane, not just for our sake, but for the sake of the people we love.
And that’s what I’m currently trying to do; stopping myself from being plunged into my crazy side, taking the high road and just keeping steady.
Emotional vomit
30 Jan 2012 Leave a Comment
in sadness and everything along with it, whatnot
There was a quiet desolation in the air today. It was a humid Monday morning and amidst the start-of-week hustle of people wanting to go to work early, here he was trying to spend every ounce of energy he had left to drag himself out of bed. It was loud outside. Moms were shouting at kids to move faster and get into their school bus, street vendors shouting their merchandises with such gaiety that it’s almost depressing. It was loud all around, but his unspoken denial at the heartbreaking reality was most deafening. He did not say anything, yet his heart almost burst from a quiet dispute it was having with his mind.
Small box, great memories
14 Jan 2012 Leave a Comment
in E, events, happy thoughts, love and cheesiness
There is a very small box in my room, and I keep special things in it. The box itself isn’t anything special. But the things in it are very dear to me.
I didn’t decide that it would be what it is today. It started as something in which I keep certain souvenirs from different memorable events. I took a look at it last night and I was amused at the hodgepodge of stuff I have from different periods of my life.
There is a handkerchief from a boy who lent it to me when I cried, the reason of which shall remain a secret. I never had the chance to give it back to him because shortly after that, we had a huge fight. I have the paper shuriken that one of my second grade students made. I kept it so I will never forget how to make one. I think it’s important to remember stuff like that. It keeps you young at heart.
Also from the students is a sorry letter. It was signed “From: Dependable”, their section and my advisory class.
This is very memorable to me. There was a time when I couldn’t for the life of me pull myself up and go to school and teach. It went on for a few days. I skipped school to clear my head. When I came back, one of my students handed me the letter. They thought I stopped coming to school because of something they did, so they were saying sorry. Those kids were the best. Interacting with them was the only thing that’s right. Everything else was wrong in so many levels, so eventually I had to leave.
Moving on, there is also the Incubus concert ticket from 2008, Cinemalaya tickets from 2008, the bust ticket from I went to Pampanga with Donna to celebrate with her and family when she passed the board exam.
There are also various movie tickets from dates with E—including the one for the Hollywood version of My Sassy Girl, which we saw in 2008. We weren’t actually a couple yet back then.
There is also the bus ticket from when we went to Baguio. I have the small paper bag and the receipt of our rings that we bought also in Baguio. I have the two graphing papers folded like a heart. It’s not a letter, he shaded some boxes to form *certain* words. Again, I won’t say what the words are. It’s so unbelievably childish that I love it exactly because of that. And then on top of everything I’ve said so far is E’s first letter to me. I read it whenever I remember I have it, and I never get tired of it. I don’t think anyone ever gets tired of being told they’re loved.
I can’t believe I have those kept in one little box. It felt like my brain had a slideshow of the past four years of my life. Imagine if I had a bigger box. I should really get one.
Bus rides and true love
11 Jan 2012 Leave a Comment
in E, happy thoughts, love and cheesiness
This is an out-of-nowhere thought. I was making coffee earlier and I suddenly remembered something that happened to me a few months ago. Maybe the reason why I was reminded of it was that I was thinking about the exchange of texts E and I had last night before sleeping—but that’s another story.
Anyway, I remembered that a few months ago while I was on the bus on my way home, I sat beside an elderly couple. They were about 60-65, I guess. I had limited seating options so I sat on the awkward side of the bus—you know, the three-seaters that are actually just two-and-a-half-seaters in reality. So only half of my butt sat comfortably, but I managed not to slip out of my seat the entire one-hour ride. But that’s really not why I suddenly remembered that moment.
I remembered it because it was incredibly cold inside the bus, and the aircon vent was broken so there was only a gaping hole blasting out ice cold air. The elderly woman was sitting by the window so the air was directly blowing toward the top of her head, so I think she was really cold. She had her pashmina wrapped around her head and around her arms but it wasn’t enough. So her husband cuddled up beside her, put his arms around her and she buried her head in his chest.
It was incredible because I thought that kind of thing happened only in movies. I smiled at them and offered to switch seats with the lady (and sacrifice myself) so she wouldn’t be too cold. They smiled back and said they were okay. And they stayed that way—cuddle up in each other’s arms—the entire ride. And the lady didn’t seem like she minded the cold anymore.
The whole time I was sitting beside them I kept thinking how great they were and how hopeful I felt that couples like those still exist. I felt comforted at the thought that two people could love each other that much that long. I wondered if they knew when they were younger that they will stay in love that way until they were old, and how many older couples feel the same way. And I considered my own relationship and remembered that there are moments when I would look at E and just smile. And he would smile back and call me crazy for smiling for no reason.
And I think I understand. I’m sure of it. You can really love someone that much that long.
The only way I know how
08 Jan 2012 1 Comment
in philosophy, random thoughts and crazy wonderings
Some people don’t understand why I’m always giddy about receiving a letter. Others may never fully grasp how powerful written words can be and how they can change everything about a person. Maybe for some, writing is just another way of saying how one feels—instead of actually saying them, one wrote them. Simple as that.
But written words have a way of affecting you unlike spoken words. With spoken words, although they could break you apart and rip your heart into little pieces, there’s still a chance that—in time—you could remember them differently, or forget them entirely. With written words, when you read something over and over and over again, no matter how many years ago it was written, you always go back to that place. You always remember the moment when you can’t breathe while you were writing it because you were crying your eyes out, or you were too drunk and angry to stop because you really needed to let it all out.
It’s sad in a way, to remember that you had those moments to yourself, pouring out your heart to a blog instead of a friend. And maybe it’s one of the reasons why some people would rather not write about their feelings.
But there is also a magical side to writing down what you feel, especially if you felt happy when you wrote something. And you wrote it for someone else. It can really change you. It can uplift your spirits within minutes, turn your frown upside down, give you the perspective you wanted and the support that you needed. But most of all, you could also go back to reading it, over and over and over again and feel all warm and fuzzy whenever you want to. You could go back to being the entire world to someone, to being friends forever; back to being loved. You remember that once you were happy and positive. And it gives you hope that you could be that person again.
I’ve had doubts in the past about my ability to really write, and what the hell am I doing with my life writing marketing collaterals? I’ve wondered what genre I even had a shot at mastering, because it’s definitely not SEO and business writing. It’s so frustrating to know what you want to do but not figure out exactly what you need to do. But when I think about how powerful written words can be, and how they could change everything about a person, how they could give you the perspective that you need, and how you can always make someone feel loved over and over and over again whenever they want to, all my worries disappear.
And at the end of the day, I figure it out somehow. And I go back to writing the only way I know how: from the heart.
The only perspective
04 Jan 2012 Leave a Comment
in books, philosophy, random thoughts and crazy wonderings Tags: perks of being a wallflower
I hate it when people post pictures of disabled people doing extraordinary stuff and put captions like, “you think things are going bad for you? Well, fuck you and your misery because a lot of people have it worse so quit your whining.” Not exactly in those words, but more subtle and kinder.
It’s not right when others belittle your loneliness and pain by comparing it to world hunger or a national catastrophe. I know there are much worse things happening in the world, but it doesn’t change the fact that you feel like shit. And sometimes, when people point out how the rest of the world is in brouhaha, it doesn’t make you feel better. It only makes things worse, because now you feel bad about feeling bad.
I wish people—for once—could tell you it’s okay to feel bad and feel certain things about your situation, because it’s not being selfish at all. It’s being honest with yourself and acknowledging the fact that there is something wrong with you. And the first step to becoming better is identifying the problem.
I think that if I ever have kids, and they are upset, I won’t tell them that people are starving in China or anything like that because it wouldn’t change the fact that they were upset. And even if somebody else has it much worse, that doesn’t really change the fact that you have what you have. Good and bad. Maybe it’s good to put things in perspective, but sometimes, I think that the only perspective is to really be there. Like Sam said. Because it’s okay to feel things. And be who you are about them.”
—Charlie, The Perks of Being a Wallflower
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