When I was single, I spent most of my time thinking about how I would be in the event that I would be with someone. I used to observe couples with the concentration of a scientist conducting an experiment on lab rats. Taking note of desirable behavior and listing down the undesirable ones.
As a result, I formulated my own conclusions. And, after all the trial and error situations that I dared go into, it follows that I developed what some experts would call cynism.
At a time when everywhere we turn we see broken hearts-some of them our own-it is not at al surprising if we find ourselves scoffing at the concept of love or successful relationships. That, added to the countless assholes that we encounter inevitably makes us all the more doubtful about the whole deal.
Since we were little girls, we were programmed to think that there is that one man who will sweep us off our feet and we'd get married and we'll live happily ever after. Until we grow up and realize that it's not as simple as that. It's so much more complicated that a whole bunch of authors have made a whole lot of money just by catchy titles and promising answers to desperate women's questions.
But the truth is, there really are no easy answers to our questions. There are no quick fix solutions or formulas that equate to a good relationship.
I myself have read a significant number of relationship books and have been single for an even more significant number of years. You would think that being in a relationship would be a breeze for me-what with all the "experience" under my belt. That's what I thought too.
But, cynism got to me. Fear of getting hurt and hopes for my own ever after got me jumping from pessimism to optimism and back again. I am constantly gripped with doubt caused by previous undesirable experiences with not so desirable men. There is a constant battle inside of me on what the right thing to do would be. Should I follow author A or B? Should I do this or that? Is this right or wrong? Am I making a mistake? Will I get hurt again? When things are going perfectly fine I become suspect. And when there's the slightest trouble or arguement I shut down and have a meltdown.
And that's when I realized that some things stay with us and we'll just have to keep fighting, but it gets easier... After a while.
Thursday, November 08, 2007
Saturday, November 03, 2007
New Beginning
I could taste it. The cruelty of long, lonely days, perhaps years of waiting for something better, something good, something right. As I was sitting on that van on my way home with two of my best friends, a myriad of questions ran through my mind as the landscape raced outside the window. Questions I've asked countless times before. Answers that have eluded me for too long.
Little did I know that all that was about to change. With a single message it all started. And what was initially supposed to be a long, mournful weekend became an exciting seduction. It became the start of something new.
I allowed myself to engage in harmless flirtation, being careful not to be hypnotized by his wit. We got to know each other in the way only modern technology can afford us. But I was in no hurry and frankly quite apprehensive. I was content with our mild flirtation and witty banter which I planned to turn into a pastime, he wanted something more. He asked, begged for us to meet. When asked why, he only replied,"because I want you to know me. I want you to know who I am."
And so, days later, I found myself sitting at a cafe, listening to his story. Dumaguete put on all her pretty colors for us that lovely afternoon as he bared his soul to me. As I looked at him in that afternoon light and digested what he called "shocking revelations", I thought to myself, "this is someone I could care about."
Afternoon turned into evening and our first meeting turned into our first date. It would be a night of many firsts. Our first movie (together with friends of course). Our first holding of hands. Our first dinner together which also happened to be the first time in years since a guy spoon-fed me. And as time dragged on, it unexpectedly became the first night we'd spend together.
When he and his friend finally saw us home, rain came. We had no choice but to let them spend the night. As we crowded in the room, the events of the day took its toll on me. I fell asleep on the thin mattress on the floor, next to him but as far away from him as possible and with my back to him. Lulled by incoherent dreams I slept.
And then, in the middle of the night I woke. As I felt him reach for me I turned to him and let him wrap me in his warm embrace. With his hand he traced my face as if memorizing its every line in the darkness. A breath of space between his face and mine, lips almost touching, he held me in his arms. An eternity within a moment. And then the first kiss...
I felt loose, loosed limbed and opened up--as though someone tugged at a thread and started unravelling me. And there, in his arms, I became someone else... Someone more like myself.
He held me long after it ended. And I feel happy. It is pure and undiluted happiness that brought tears to my eyes. And just when I started to be afraid that it would end there, he wiped away my tears and whispered, "this is our new beginning".
Little did I know that all that was about to change. With a single message it all started. And what was initially supposed to be a long, mournful weekend became an exciting seduction. It became the start of something new.
I allowed myself to engage in harmless flirtation, being careful not to be hypnotized by his wit. We got to know each other in the way only modern technology can afford us. But I was in no hurry and frankly quite apprehensive. I was content with our mild flirtation and witty banter which I planned to turn into a pastime, he wanted something more. He asked, begged for us to meet. When asked why, he only replied,"because I want you to know me. I want you to know who I am."
And so, days later, I found myself sitting at a cafe, listening to his story. Dumaguete put on all her pretty colors for us that lovely afternoon as he bared his soul to me. As I looked at him in that afternoon light and digested what he called "shocking revelations", I thought to myself, "this is someone I could care about."
Afternoon turned into evening and our first meeting turned into our first date. It would be a night of many firsts. Our first movie (together with friends of course). Our first holding of hands. Our first dinner together which also happened to be the first time in years since a guy spoon-fed me. And as time dragged on, it unexpectedly became the first night we'd spend together.
When he and his friend finally saw us home, rain came. We had no choice but to let them spend the night. As we crowded in the room, the events of the day took its toll on me. I fell asleep on the thin mattress on the floor, next to him but as far away from him as possible and with my back to him. Lulled by incoherent dreams I slept.
And then, in the middle of the night I woke. As I felt him reach for me I turned to him and let him wrap me in his warm embrace. With his hand he traced my face as if memorizing its every line in the darkness. A breath of space between his face and mine, lips almost touching, he held me in his arms. An eternity within a moment. And then the first kiss...
I felt loose, loosed limbed and opened up--as though someone tugged at a thread and started unravelling me. And there, in his arms, I became someone else... Someone more like myself.
He held me long after it ended. And I feel happy. It is pure and undiluted happiness that brought tears to my eyes. And just when I started to be afraid that it would end there, he wiped away my tears and whispered, "this is our new beginning".
Thursday, April 12, 2007
92
My lola turned 92 last Monday. 92. Wow. I will not hope nor dream that I would ever reach such a ripe age. Unlike my grandmother, my lifestyle is much more, let's say, liberated. And yet, I wonder... "What would it be like to live the kind of life she lived? Would I be happier?"
I would certainly be healthier. Haha.
I imagine how uptight and conservative her life has been. I recall how she would tell me that when she was young, the only time people saw her was when they went to church. His lolo, Don Gil, would pick them up in his karwahe (yes, an actual carriage complete with a horseman) and that's when they get to go out. Everyday, at 4pm, they would open their windows and watch the world outside. Wave at passersby perhaps, and maybe even look down upon suitors. This account alone is proof enough of how different the way things were before.
My lola turned out to be a very strong woman despite the rather "demure" way of life she got used to. In so many ways I am like her and yet in so many more ways I know I am not. My life is far more complicated than hers was, yet I know she went through her own obstacles and fought her own battles. If I were to have lived in the era she lived through, I would most probably turn out not far from the way she did.
But I am of this generation. One that is a hundredfold harder to live through than theirs was. Perhaps, I am in no position to complain. Many of us complicate our lives unnecessarily, our ambitions are higher and our contentment is harder to reach.
I am now 21. Far from old. Far from wise. I am almost sure I wouldn't live to be 92. But I hope I will do my lola's heritage justice in my own way while I am alive.
I would certainly be healthier. Haha.
I imagine how uptight and conservative her life has been. I recall how she would tell me that when she was young, the only time people saw her was when they went to church. His lolo, Don Gil, would pick them up in his karwahe (yes, an actual carriage complete with a horseman) and that's when they get to go out. Everyday, at 4pm, they would open their windows and watch the world outside. Wave at passersby perhaps, and maybe even look down upon suitors. This account alone is proof enough of how different the way things were before.
My lola turned out to be a very strong woman despite the rather "demure" way of life she got used to. In so many ways I am like her and yet in so many more ways I know I am not. My life is far more complicated than hers was, yet I know she went through her own obstacles and fought her own battles. If I were to have lived in the era she lived through, I would most probably turn out not far from the way she did.
But I am of this generation. One that is a hundredfold harder to live through than theirs was. Perhaps, I am in no position to complain. Many of us complicate our lives unnecessarily, our ambitions are higher and our contentment is harder to reach.
I am now 21. Far from old. Far from wise. I am almost sure I wouldn't live to be 92. But I hope I will do my lola's heritage justice in my own way while I am alive.
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
summer places
I used to be fascinated by swimming pools, ponds, fountains, miniature waterfalls in people's gardens... I have no idea why but I'd just be amazed by them. I won't even attempt to find any psychological reason for it for fear of ruining the feeling that it gives me when I remember a time when such things make me wide-eyed with wonder.
Like the empty swimming pool at my neighbor's backyard. I remember staring at it, fantasizing how it would look if it were full. Or the pond at a family friend's front lawn. I used to sit by it and look into all of its three-foot depth and the lonely fishes swimming in it. Even now, when I think of it, I can still feel some of the awe that I felt.
It sounds crazy now that I'm a grown woman, but I wish I could get that back. That innocence--or perhaps ignorance-- that comes with being a child. To look at things and see them more vividly and vibrantly. To experience something and be struck with the same excitement as I had.
Nowadays I sit at my lola's terrace, look at the backyard that seemed huge to me before... Milk replaced by coffee and blowing bubbles replaced by a cigarette... I can't help but wish time and age hadn't jaded me. Have I gotten that old? I certainly feel old. I sit back and remember a time when little things gave me great wonders and made summer seem so much more like an adventure... Sigh.
Like the empty swimming pool at my neighbor's backyard. I remember staring at it, fantasizing how it would look if it were full. Or the pond at a family friend's front lawn. I used to sit by it and look into all of its three-foot depth and the lonely fishes swimming in it. Even now, when I think of it, I can still feel some of the awe that I felt.
It sounds crazy now that I'm a grown woman, but I wish I could get that back. That innocence--or perhaps ignorance-- that comes with being a child. To look at things and see them more vividly and vibrantly. To experience something and be struck with the same excitement as I had.
Nowadays I sit at my lola's terrace, look at the backyard that seemed huge to me before... Milk replaced by coffee and blowing bubbles replaced by a cigarette... I can't help but wish time and age hadn't jaded me. Have I gotten that old? I certainly feel old. I sit back and remember a time when little things gave me great wonders and made summer seem so much more like an adventure... Sigh.
Friday, March 23, 2007
s&m
I often wonder how we always end up loving somebody who doesn't deserve us. I think about how many people I know who are involved in a relationship or pseudo-relationships who are unfair to them. Of the many people I know who should have the best but have settled for what they have just so they won't be alone. And then I think of how many times I tripped and fell for the asshole when I had the option of choosing somebody else-one who is clearly into me.
Why do we always end up choosing the one who would hurt us? Are we sado-masochists?
Sometimes it would seem as though we are-or at least I am. How else could I explain this "pattern" of me choosing to be with someone who is uncertain versus someone nice and safe and sure? I don't know if it's because of the so-called challenge of being in a difficult relationship or if it's because of the thrill/excitement of the uncertainty. Or maybe, I've become so accustomed to pain that being without it makes me question the relationship.
So maybe I am sado-masochistic after all. But aren't all sado-masochists looking for someone who would make them want to stop lovin the pain? I know I am.
Why do we always end up choosing the one who would hurt us? Are we sado-masochists?
Sometimes it would seem as though we are-or at least I am. How else could I explain this "pattern" of me choosing to be with someone who is uncertain versus someone nice and safe and sure? I don't know if it's because of the so-called challenge of being in a difficult relationship or if it's because of the thrill/excitement of the uncertainty. Or maybe, I've become so accustomed to pain that being without it makes me question the relationship.
So maybe I am sado-masochistic after all. But aren't all sado-masochists looking for someone who would make them want to stop lovin the pain? I know I am.
Friday, March 16, 2007
snow on the sahara
How else should I react? How else should I handle betrayal? I should be burning with fury. Yet strangely I am numb. Cool. So cool that I wonder if this is normal. Then again, when have I ever been normal? I've walked this walk too many times before. This desolate stretch of nothingness. Burning hot then bitter cold. So I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Maybe I've gotten used to it after all.
The dust has blown on my track, the sand has blown into my eyes, I've lost my way yet again. There was never a map made out for this godforsaken path I travel. Just an endless cycle of losing one's way and finding it in the middle of nowhere. Funny how this is the only way I lead my depths. In this vast emptiness where I find both pain and beauty. I stand still, and wander off alone.
The dust has blown on my track, the sand has blown into my eyes, I've lost my way yet again. There was never a map made out for this godforsaken path I travel. Just an endless cycle of losing one's way and finding it in the middle of nowhere. Funny how this is the only way I lead my depths. In this vast emptiness where I find both pain and beauty. I stand still, and wander off alone.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
just shoot me
In no way has this account been embellished:
Two nights ago I went to this live band show sponsored by a candidate for congress in our district. So really, it was a political rally hidden behind the drumset. Anyways, the usual mumbo jumbo of people were there. We arrived just when they were starting the usual acknowledgements designed to somehow impress the people and win them over.
In the meantime, me and my pal Kit chose to hide out behind a multicab to avoid a head-on collision with trapo and, to make a grand entrance. It's shallow but after surviving my first ever incident of public scandal I thought I had all the right to show up and dazzle everyone. lol.
After surviving the "subtle" campaign strategy of our dear politicians, we made our way toward where the band just started to play along with Kit's husband Third (my ex-boyfriend's bestfriend) and his mother who is running for councilor on the admin slate. Just when I was just starting to enjoy the music, Manang Pinky approached us and insisted we sit together with the mayor's family and the city officials. Manang Pinky is by the way, one of my ex-boyfriend's minions. It bugs me that I am still so connected to him in that way. But what can I do?
While I was politely refusing the offer, along comes this guy who Manang Pinky introduced as the Commanding Officer of the whatever batallion assigned in our city. He seemed okay. And Kit whispered this notion of hers that I should at least talk to him while she observes my exbf's reaction. Freakish. But I played along.
True enough, along came my x who all of a sudden came over to where we were.
X: Good evening gwaps... Uy, have you met Lt. Villaroel na? (gestures to where the Lt. is seated right next to me)
Me: Good evening Konsehal. Yes, we were already introduced. (I manage to give him my best what-do-you-think-you're-doin look)
What the eff?! Obviously, we've already met. The man's sitting beside me for goodness' sake! I suspect he wanted to come off cool by attempting to pair me up with someone. Instead he succeeded in getting a very deadly stare from me. After my ex abrubtly left to settle a fight his cousin got into, I started to talk to the new Commanding Officer. Unfortunately, it was all the time I needed to find out that the man is a very conceited pig.
It was not my first encounter with uniformed men. I met three other officials of the army before. Young, brave and very proper. I actually liked all those other men. They seemed very... dignified. And they were all confident, were actually able to carry very intelligent conversations and may I just add, sexy. Maybe it was the uniform that did it. lol.
But this one was none of that. To prove my point, later that night I was asked to join their table.
Lt. Villaroel: Where are you gonna sleep tonight?
Me: At my house of course.
Him: 'Cos I can get you a room at the pension house if you want.
At this point I was trying my best not to slap him.
Me: No need. I have a house.
Him: Ah ok. Kasi may room ako dun. Pina-reserve ni mayor kasi mahirap na baka ma-ambush ako.
Huh? Was that supposed to impress me or was that an attempt to get me to sleep with him? Eew. And just when I thought the horror was over, he actually whined out his insistent plea to take me home. What a shame to men in uniform. Not only did he turn me off majorly, I'd much rather have been shot.
I should've known, the third one's a charm. The next is just roadkill.
Two nights ago I went to this live band show sponsored by a candidate for congress in our district. So really, it was a political rally hidden behind the drumset. Anyways, the usual mumbo jumbo of people were there. We arrived just when they were starting the usual acknowledgements designed to somehow impress the people and win them over.
In the meantime, me and my pal Kit chose to hide out behind a multicab to avoid a head-on collision with trapo and, to make a grand entrance.
After surviving the "subtle" campaign strategy of our dear politicians, we made our way toward where the band just started to play along with Kit's husband Third (my ex-boyfriend's bestfriend) and his mother who is running for councilor on the admin slate. Just when I was just starting to enjoy the music, Manang Pinky approached us and insisted we sit together with the mayor's family and the city officials. Manang Pinky is by the way, one of my ex-boyfriend's minions. It bugs me that I am still so connected to him in that way. But what can I do?
While I was politely refusing the offer, along comes this guy who Manang Pinky introduced as the Commanding Officer of the whatever batallion assigned in our city. He seemed okay. And Kit whispered this notion of hers that I should at least talk to him while she observes my exbf's reaction. Freakish. But I played along.
True enough, along came my x who all of a sudden came over to where we were.
X: Good evening gwaps... Uy, have you met Lt. Villaroel na? (gestures to where the Lt. is seated right next to me)
Me: Good evening Konsehal. Yes, we were already introduced. (I manage to give him my best what-do-you-think-you're-doin look)
What the eff?! Obviously, we've already met. The man's sitting beside me for goodness' sake! I suspect he wanted to come off cool by attempting to pair me up with someone. Instead he succeeded in getting a very deadly stare from me. After my ex abrubtly left to settle a fight his cousin got into, I started to talk to the new Commanding Officer. Unfortunately, it was all the time I needed to find out that the man is a very conceited pig.
It was not my first encounter with uniformed men. I met three other officials of the army before. Young, brave and very proper. I actually liked all those other men. They seemed very... dignified. And they were all confident, were actually able to carry very intelligent conversations and may I just add, sexy. Maybe it was the uniform that did it. lol.
But this one was none of that. To prove my point, later that night I was asked to join their table.
Lt. Villaroel: Where are you gonna sleep tonight?
Me: At my house of course.
Him: 'Cos I can get you a room at the pension house if you want.
At this point I was trying my best not to slap him.
Me: No need. I have a house.
Him: Ah ok. Kasi may room ako dun. Pina-reserve ni mayor kasi mahirap na baka ma-ambush ako.
Huh? Was that supposed to impress me or was that an attempt to get me to sleep with him? Eew. And just when I thought the horror was over, he actually whined out his insistent plea to take me home. What a shame to men in uniform. Not only did he turn me off majorly, I'd much rather have been shot.
I should've known, the third one's a charm. The next is just roadkill.
shut up and listen
I don't like being jerked around. Yes, I'm lazy. I procrastinate as often as I can and I try to get away with anything if I can. When I am not in the mood, you cannot make me do anything. At least not well enough. And you would have to ask me nicely, beg even. If not, I'm out.
Oh I love doing things, and call me crazy because yes, I can even love responsibility. BUT with the right motivation. Otherwise, I become a fickle, fickle being. I become so slippery I will slide away, no, slink away. I will be still, I can be as dependable as can be. But you have to handle me ever so carefully. Or else, all you'll get is a half-hearted nod. And that's if you're lucky.
See here's the thing, I can be anything you want me to be. I will do it beautifully you will have tears in your eyes when I'm done. On my own terms.
(If anyone is wondering, I'm fuckin pissed off. I want to scream. And if you run into my father, be sure to mention all of the above to him. I will be eternally grateful. Now excuse me while I try to simmer down.)
Oh I love doing things, and call me crazy because yes, I can even love responsibility. BUT with the right motivation. Otherwise, I become a fickle, fickle being. I become so slippery I will slide away, no, slink away. I will be still, I can be as dependable as can be. But you have to handle me ever so carefully. Or else, all you'll get is a half-hearted nod. And that's if you're lucky.
See here's the thing, I can be anything you want me to be. I will do it beautifully you will have tears in your eyes when I'm done. On my own terms.
(If anyone is wondering, I'm fuckin pissed off. I want to scream. And if you run into my father, be sure to mention all of the above to him. I will be eternally grateful. Now excuse me while I try to simmer down.)
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Politically erect
Elections are coming up. Which means, it's been more than 3 years since Mr. Politiko came into my life. See, we have a history. I loathed him long before I ever met him, and fell in love with him afterward for reasons that are becoming increasingly unclear.
In a place where boring monotony is the usual state, elections create quite the stir. People take advantage of politicians while politicians indulge them and try to buy their votes. I actually enjoy watching and speculating about the maneuverings of those who are supposedly going to make our lives better.
It's funny really, what people are willing to do for power and money--two of the most appealing qualities of being in office. And, even funnier is the way women are attracted to those in power.
It has never been the case for me. I could say with a straight face that I have never been lured into the arms of a man just because of what he has or what he is. I woke up to politics and since time immemorial have always had a member of the family run for office. Heck, I've even campaigned onstage when I was 3 or 4. Yes, I am the local version of Kristeta. Not that I would wanna be compared to her. She's far too uhm, something.
Anyways, my ex-boyfriend who is now a city councilor is running for re-election. I've been running into him a lot lately. I get kicks out of seeing him look at me with blatant lust. HAHA. I know, that's crazy. But I'm bored and entertainment around here would sometimes mean being mediocre. Tsk3.
Which brings me to how I am now being once again subjected to intriga. Involving this Mr. Politiko and his psychotic pseudo-girlfriend. According to my detractors (see, I've really become quite the local celebrity around here haha), I am still pining over Mr. Politiko. Apparently I've been texting bastos text messages to the psychotic pseudo-girlfriend and have also said unprintable words to one of her minions. Gawd. They probably think that making stories up against me would affect me. Little do they know, they are actually feeding my ego. Oh yes, I'm a bitch in that way.
On a more serious note, all these intrigas and talk about me and Mr. Politiko have been hounding me before and long after we became an item. It's been so prolonged that I've begun to wonder why people keep tossing us into each other's laps. Half of them don't want us to be together and the other half insist that we belong together. Chilling thought.
I might have to register at the farthest possible voting area soon. lol.
In a place where boring monotony is the usual state, elections create quite the stir. People take advantage of politicians while politicians indulge them and try to buy their votes. I actually enjoy watching and speculating about the maneuverings of those who are supposedly going to make our lives better.
It's funny really, what people are willing to do for power and money--two of the most appealing qualities of being in office. And, even funnier is the way women are attracted to those in power.
It has never been the case for me. I could say with a straight face that I have never been lured into the arms of a man just because of what he has or what he is. I woke up to politics and since time immemorial have always had a member of the family run for office. Heck, I've even campaigned onstage when I was 3 or 4. Yes, I am the local version of Kristeta. Not that I would wanna be compared to her. She's far too uhm, something.
Anyways, my ex-boyfriend who is now a city councilor is running for re-election. I've been running into him a lot lately. I get kicks out of seeing him look at me with blatant lust. HAHA. I know, that's crazy. But I'm bored and entertainment around here would sometimes mean being mediocre. Tsk3.
Which brings me to how I am now being once again subjected to intriga. Involving this Mr. Politiko and his psychotic pseudo-girlfriend. According to my detractors (see, I've really become quite the local celebrity around here haha), I am still pining over Mr. Politiko. Apparently I've been texting bastos text messages to the psychotic pseudo-girlfriend and have also said unprintable words to one of her minions. Gawd. They probably think that making stories up against me would affect me. Little do they know, they are actually feeding my ego. Oh yes, I'm a bitch in that way.
On a more serious note, all these intrigas and talk about me and Mr. Politiko have been hounding me before and long after we became an item. It's been so prolonged that I've begun to wonder why people keep tossing us into each other's laps. Half of them don't want us to be together and the other half insist that we belong together. Chilling thought.
I might have to register at the farthest possible voting area soon. lol.
the freak show
Canlaon city is giving a whole new spin to its fiesta celebration. Not that the idea is entirely original... The concept has been patterned after Dumaguete's kiosks along the boulevard. At least the entertainment thirsty people have some place to carouse at.
Anyways, it seems like the fiesta air brought the freak show along with it. Observe, if you will, this chilling sight...
March 10, Saturday. Me and my friend Kit went to watch the semi-final basketball game. You can imagine just how boring this place is for me to even consider watching a basketball game. So, there we were and the usual crowd was there. Complete with my ex-boyfriend's latest bimbo and her equally idiotic bunch. Man, I must really possess some kind of power which is unkown to me since the mere sight of me make them all uneasy. And since this amuses me to no end, I proceeded to make them flinch by pretending to be texting with my ex-boyfriend. They all looked so affected by the assumption that we were exchanging sms that I almost doubled over in laughter. And to top it all off, my ex-bf and I went home at the same time. We both had our cars with us but heck, the look on the faces of the friggin idiots could kill.
Later that night, we went to the park to check out the live band that were playing. We got there at almost 10pm and by then the place was full of Canlaon's "party goers". After parking my car, we went ahead and strolled, er strutted to one of the kiosks to reload my phone. On the way, people greeted me left and right. Much to the chagrin of my detractors, I arrived fashionably late and with such a grand entrance.
I was by then having the time of my life making them all so pissed off just by my being there that I could not help but keep laughing at the thought.
But it was when we were dancing that the real freaks came out and lashed at me. They came and danced with me, touched my face and just did all that they could to provoke me. Finally, I just couldn't take the thought of my face being touched by those lowlifes that I had to talk to one of their friends and asked him to tell them to stop harassing me. We then left the dance floor with Kit fuming as she followed me out. Just when we sat down at our table, the matrona of the "japayuki group" came over and started shouting expletives and crass words generally directed at no one. But of course, I knew that it was specifically thrown at me. Ladies and gentlemen, step far away from the cage of the insecure bitches who have no finesse whatsoever.
I should've been sizzling mad, but oddly I wasn't as affected as my friend Kit was. Maybe I'm just not a war freak. But I suspect it's because it just feels so damn good to make some bitches so insecure just by bein me. Haha.
Anyways, it seems like the fiesta air brought the freak show along with it. Observe, if you will, this chilling sight...
March 10, Saturday. Me and my friend Kit went to watch the semi-final basketball game. You can imagine just how boring this place is for me to even consider watching a basketball game. So, there we were and the usual crowd was there. Complete with my ex-boyfriend's latest bimbo and her equally idiotic bunch. Man, I must really possess some kind of power which is unkown to me since the mere sight of me make them all uneasy. And since this amuses me to no end, I proceeded to make them flinch by pretending to be texting with my ex-boyfriend. They all looked so affected by the assumption that we were exchanging sms that I almost doubled over in laughter. And to top it all off, my ex-bf and I went home at the same time. We both had our cars with us but heck, the look on the faces of the friggin idiots could kill.
Later that night, we went to the park to check out the live band that were playing. We got there at almost 10pm and by then the place was full of Canlaon's "party goers". After parking my car, we went ahead and strolled, er strutted to one of the kiosks to reload my phone. On the way, people greeted me left and right. Much to the chagrin of my detractors, I arrived fashionably late and with such a grand entrance.
I was by then having the time of my life making them all so pissed off just by my being there that I could not help but keep laughing at the thought.
But it was when we were dancing that the real freaks came out and lashed at me. They came and danced with me, touched my face and just did all that they could to provoke me. Finally, I just couldn't take the thought of my face being touched by those lowlifes that I had to talk to one of their friends and asked him to tell them to stop harassing me. We then left the dance floor with Kit fuming as she followed me out. Just when we sat down at our table, the matrona of the "japayuki group" came over and started shouting expletives and crass words generally directed at no one. But of course, I knew that it was specifically thrown at me. Ladies and gentlemen, step far away from the cage of the insecure bitches who have no finesse whatsoever.
I should've been sizzling mad, but oddly I wasn't as affected as my friend Kit was. Maybe I'm just not a war freak. But I suspect it's because it just feels so damn good to make some bitches so insecure just by bein me. Haha.
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Crack of Dawn
Yet behind the night,
Waits for the great unborn, somewhere far
Some white tremendous daybreak.
-Rupert Brooke
She looked at him as if seeing him for the first time. Right across the table was the guy she thought she always wanted. But as she struggled to keep herself together, she couldn't help but wonder, "who is this guy?"
A million thoughts raced through her mind and a storm of emotions were raging somewhere deep within her. And so she drank the beer he handed to her, hoping it would loosen her wired nerves. Still, she can't shake the feeling that somehow, she got this all wrong.
She tried hard to avoid staring at him for fear that her mouth might hang open at the sight of this stranger. She's stunned. And that's when she knew... He was not at all the man she thought he was. Not even close.
Light has slowly broken through... She felt as though she has woken up from a deep slumber, squinting at the searing light as her eyes adjusted to it. And then, the beauty of everything awash in brightness.
So she did what she had to do. It was time to open her eyes and see things as it is. The dream has ended, the illusion has faded away... And though her heart felt cold, she welcomed the warmth of the light of truth.
Waits for the great unborn, somewhere far
Some white tremendous daybreak.
-Rupert Brooke
She looked at him as if seeing him for the first time. Right across the table was the guy she thought she always wanted. But as she struggled to keep herself together, she couldn't help but wonder, "who is this guy?"
A million thoughts raced through her mind and a storm of emotions were raging somewhere deep within her. And so she drank the beer he handed to her, hoping it would loosen her wired nerves. Still, she can't shake the feeling that somehow, she got this all wrong.
She tried hard to avoid staring at him for fear that her mouth might hang open at the sight of this stranger. She's stunned. And that's when she knew... He was not at all the man she thought he was. Not even close.
Light has slowly broken through... She felt as though she has woken up from a deep slumber, squinting at the searing light as her eyes adjusted to it. And then, the beauty of everything awash in brightness.
So she did what she had to do. It was time to open her eyes and see things as it is. The dream has ended, the illusion has faded away... And though her heart felt cold, she welcomed the warmth of the light of truth.
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
Licensed Diver
In life, there are times when you have to think things through. When you take the time to examine all angles before you make a decision. You play all possible scenarios in your mind and prepare for every single one of it as best you can. This is very essential in making choices. Especially when you don't want to make a mistake.
But there are times when things just happen. Against all odds and probably against your better judgement you land right smack at the center of something that was never in your plans at all. It is often at these times that we are brought to regret or, if you're luck, something wonderful.
Do things really happen for a reason?
Despite living in the 21st century, I cannot help but wonder about that old saying. But, perhaps, there is some truth to it. Because even despite careful scrutiny and planning, something does always happen that are out of our control. You kiss on the first date even if you didn't plan to, you blurt out something you never thought of saying, you missed a turn on the street and ended up running into someone... And almost always, there proves to be a reason behind such twists.
Then again, there are those times when we cannot make sense of things that happen. It's puzzling, really. And we go on wondering what could the reason be? More often than not, the reason would eventually turn out to be to teach you something. That is, I know, such a cliche. But there is just no other way to say it.
Paolo Coelho once said, "lessons are repeated until they are learned". This is the thought that always comes to my mind whenever I come to a dead end and just can't figure out why this certain something happened for no apparent reason. Turns out ol' Paulo knew what he was talking about. He was probably as stubborn as we are now.
But what about those other times when you are ambushed by a choice? I call those moments, "dive sensation". It's like standing on the edge of a ledge before diving. You stand there wanting to jump in and dive at the same time being scared of doing it. You know that if you stand there longer you will only feel more afraid and backing out would somehow always make you feel unfulfilled.
It is at these moments that the solution is simply to take the plunge. To just do it. Do whatever it is that you feel you want or need to do. Dive into the unknown. And sometimes, it is then that you will know.
But there are times when things just happen. Against all odds and probably against your better judgement you land right smack at the center of something that was never in your plans at all. It is often at these times that we are brought to regret or, if you're luck, something wonderful.
Do things really happen for a reason?
Despite living in the 21st century, I cannot help but wonder about that old saying. But, perhaps, there is some truth to it. Because even despite careful scrutiny and planning, something does always happen that are out of our control. You kiss on the first date even if you didn't plan to, you blurt out something you never thought of saying, you missed a turn on the street and ended up running into someone... And almost always, there proves to be a reason behind such twists.
Then again, there are those times when we cannot make sense of things that happen. It's puzzling, really. And we go on wondering what could the reason be? More often than not, the reason would eventually turn out to be to teach you something. That is, I know, such a cliche. But there is just no other way to say it.
Paolo Coelho once said, "lessons are repeated until they are learned". This is the thought that always comes to my mind whenever I come to a dead end and just can't figure out why this certain something happened for no apparent reason. Turns out ol' Paulo knew what he was talking about. He was probably as stubborn as we are now.
But what about those other times when you are ambushed by a choice? I call those moments, "dive sensation". It's like standing on the edge of a ledge before diving. You stand there wanting to jump in and dive at the same time being scared of doing it. You know that if you stand there longer you will only feel more afraid and backing out would somehow always make you feel unfulfilled.
It is at these moments that the solution is simply to take the plunge. To just do it. Do whatever it is that you feel you want or need to do. Dive into the unknown. And sometimes, it is then that you will know.
ilusione
There is something so mysteriously captivating about illusions that hold one so tightly in its grasp... Having deemed myself a dreamer, I am certainly no stranger to illusions. That certain something that deceives the senses or mind that it takes you and whips you away...
When all you can hear in your ears is the beating of your heart, there is little to do but be sucked right into the vortex of an illusion. You grasp at all strings of hope and from there paint a thousand pictures of a happy ending. Somehow you start believing that there is hope. And even when all those around you hammer you with the reality, you feel that what little hope you have is worth holding on. Never knowing that hope borne out of illusion is nothing more than a lie.
Based on personal experience, illusions often start when we paint a certain picture of what we want in our minds and hearts. We become so gripped by that certain picture that we often fit anything or anyone unto that mold. Without our knowing it, we've lost ourselves in a deception of our own design. Illusions, are quite simply, something that appears to be one thing when it is in fact another.
There's another word for illusion--trickery. I have always liked the word illusion better. I liked the ring of it. And yes, I am a willing victim of illusions for more than once. And I know that even under its spell, there comes a time when you realize that the better part of it was make-believe.
It is then that one can either be stuck in make-believe or grasp reality and move on. I am for the latter. I'm not saying it's easy, hell no. I prefer to think of it as somewhat like watching a very good movie complete with all the special effects. It can capture you and break your heart, but you know that the special effects are computer generated. And even when you're crying your heart out, you know that it's not real. Then as the credits roll, you walk out of the movie theater and think to yourself, "life goes on."
And, indeed, it does.
When all you can hear in your ears is the beating of your heart, there is little to do but be sucked right into the vortex of an illusion. You grasp at all strings of hope and from there paint a thousand pictures of a happy ending. Somehow you start believing that there is hope. And even when all those around you hammer you with the reality, you feel that what little hope you have is worth holding on. Never knowing that hope borne out of illusion is nothing more than a lie.
Based on personal experience, illusions often start when we paint a certain picture of what we want in our minds and hearts. We become so gripped by that certain picture that we often fit anything or anyone unto that mold. Without our knowing it, we've lost ourselves in a deception of our own design. Illusions, are quite simply, something that appears to be one thing when it is in fact another.
There's another word for illusion--trickery. I have always liked the word illusion better. I liked the ring of it. And yes, I am a willing victim of illusions for more than once. And I know that even under its spell, there comes a time when you realize that the better part of it was make-believe.
It is then that one can either be stuck in make-believe or grasp reality and move on. I am for the latter. I'm not saying it's easy, hell no. I prefer to think of it as somewhat like watching a very good movie complete with all the special effects. It can capture you and break your heart, but you know that the special effects are computer generated. And even when you're crying your heart out, you know that it's not real. Then as the credits roll, you walk out of the movie theater and think to yourself, "life goes on."
And, indeed, it does.
Valley of Misplaced Contraceptives
In a time and generation of sexually open individuals, it seems that everything is possible. People can have sex without a relationship or, in some instances, have sex without even knowing anything about the other. And if we are to be completely liberal about all this, we are told that that's fine as long as we practice "safe sex".
There are a dozens of available contraceptives and many more methods of contraception, all of which guarantee a certain percentage of "safety". The medical society and even the religious sector have taken it upon themselves to teach and preach us what constitutes the hazards of sex and how to avoid them. And in all the brochures that have been printed to educate us over the years, we should all be rest assured that we know how to avoid those so-call hazards of sex.
I, for one, have used a couple of those contraceptives, read countless brochures and have generally escaped the "hazards" of sex. All except for one that that have never, in all the brochures that I have read, been mentioned. The dreaded emotional attachment that all vulnerable individuals out there are in danger of.
Is there ever really "safe sex"?
There are countless tests and checklists, even guides to having safe sex all in the hopes of protecting people from disease or unwanted children. There are condoms, diaphragms, pills, injections and whatever else they've invented to keep from having STDs or the occasional lovechild but what's to protect the heart in all this?
Sure, some can do it with the gusto of a dog looking for a mate and when it's over, scratch it off and move on to the next. But some of us, cannot just scratch it off and move on unscathed. We are left wondering and hearts aching.
It probably might have been easier if there was a brochure on this. A pill to keep the mind from wondering and a condom to shield the heart. But, sadly, there is none. "Safe sex" is an illusion. Whoever invented that term should have his balls cut off. Because there is no such thing as "safe sex". Reality brings in more pain than STD.
And so, we lie there, long after our beds are left empty... Yes, they might've saved the world from AIDS. You used proper contraception, you are safe from disease or an unwanted child. But the ache that it leaves you with, can kill you long before the AIDS ever will.
There are a dozens of available contraceptives and many more methods of contraception, all of which guarantee a certain percentage of "safety". The medical society and even the religious sector have taken it upon themselves to teach and preach us what constitutes the hazards of sex and how to avoid them. And in all the brochures that have been printed to educate us over the years, we should all be rest assured that we know how to avoid those so-call hazards of sex.
I, for one, have used a couple of those contraceptives, read countless brochures and have generally escaped the "hazards" of sex. All except for one that that have never, in all the brochures that I have read, been mentioned. The dreaded emotional attachment that all vulnerable individuals out there are in danger of.
Is there ever really "safe sex"?
There are countless tests and checklists, even guides to having safe sex all in the hopes of protecting people from disease or unwanted children. There are condoms, diaphragms, pills, injections and whatever else they've invented to keep from having STDs or the occasional lovechild but what's to protect the heart in all this?
Sure, some can do it with the gusto of a dog looking for a mate and when it's over, scratch it off and move on to the next. But some of us, cannot just scratch it off and move on unscathed. We are left wondering and hearts aching.
It probably might have been easier if there was a brochure on this. A pill to keep the mind from wondering and a condom to shield the heart. But, sadly, there is none. "Safe sex" is an illusion. Whoever invented that term should have his balls cut off. Because there is no such thing as "safe sex". Reality brings in more pain than STD.
And so, we lie there, long after our beds are left empty... Yes, they might've saved the world from AIDS. You used proper contraception, you are safe from disease or an unwanted child. But the ache that it leaves you with, can kill you long before the AIDS ever will.
1
Alice sighed wearily. "I think you might do something better with the time," she said, than wasting it in asking riddles that have no answers."
But what happens when you have nothing to do with your time? When you have too much time and too little to do, riddles find you. Upon waking, going to sleep, and every hour in between. And when this happens, all the time you have in your hands is spent trying to find answers.
Answers.. I have gone from being certain with every angle of my life to utter bewilderment. My life has become filled with questions, it seems that finding answers has become every waking moment's purpose. I have searched within myself to looking for it in different places. Trying but somehow always failing to find the answers to questions. Running away from them yet somehow always finding myself face to face with riddles that seem to have no answers.
Is there ever really an answer to questions we ask? Or is life supposed to be a question, a riddle, that has no answer?
True to form, I am clueless. From where I stand, I can see question marks following my every move. Somewhere between certainty and confusion, I got lost. And so her I am. In a world where I like to call my wonderland.
And while some may define wonderland as utopia, paradise, seventh-heaven, mine is a labyrinthe of my mind's twists and turns. An alternate world which I try to blindly explore. A place that exists between reality and fantasy.
If life is indeed a riddle to answer, and mine is filled with questions, maybe you can find your answers in mine. And maybe, just maybe, somewhere along the way we can all reach a place that can reconcile our reality and fantasy. Who knows? Until then, humor me, and let's all waste some time in wonderland...
But what happens when you have nothing to do with your time? When you have too much time and too little to do, riddles find you. Upon waking, going to sleep, and every hour in between. And when this happens, all the time you have in your hands is spent trying to find answers.
Answers.. I have gone from being certain with every angle of my life to utter bewilderment. My life has become filled with questions, it seems that finding answers has become every waking moment's purpose. I have searched within myself to looking for it in different places. Trying but somehow always failing to find the answers to questions. Running away from them yet somehow always finding myself face to face with riddles that seem to have no answers.
Is there ever really an answer to questions we ask? Or is life supposed to be a question, a riddle, that has no answer?
True to form, I am clueless. From where I stand, I can see question marks following my every move. Somewhere between certainty and confusion, I got lost. And so her I am. In a world where I like to call my wonderland.
And while some may define wonderland as utopia, paradise, seventh-heaven, mine is a labyrinthe of my mind's twists and turns. An alternate world which I try to blindly explore. A place that exists between reality and fantasy.
If life is indeed a riddle to answer, and mine is filled with questions, maybe you can find your answers in mine. And maybe, just maybe, somewhere along the way we can all reach a place that can reconcile our reality and fantasy. Who knows? Until then, humor me, and let's all waste some time in wonderland...
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