How It Was

This is what I mean when I say I would like to swim against the stream of time: I would like to erase the consequences of certain events and restore an initial condition. But every moment in my life brings with it an accumulation of new facts, and each of these new facts brings with it its consequences; so the more I seek to return to the zero moment from which I set out, the further I move away from it; though all my actions are bent on erasing the consequences of previous actions and though I manage to achieve appreciable results in this erasure, enough to open my heart to hopes of immediate relief, I must, however, bear in mind that my every move to erase previous events provokes a rain of new events, which complicate the situation worse than before and which I will then, in their return, have to erase. Therefore, I must calculate carefully every move so as to achieve the maximum of erasure with the minimum of recomplication.

--- Italo Calvino, If on a winter's night a traveller

My brother commented: "Early this year, you look like twelve. Now you look sixteen."

Because it was one hell of year. I felt like I had a 180 degrees turn from last year in almost every aspect of my life. Changes occur like overlapping troughs in a high tide: there is no time given to recover. Although I can materially spoil myself now, I couldn't really say if things have been better - or if I have been a better person. I was too dependent ten months ago, now I am defiant to being comforted. Perceptions used to be formed by a huge Jell-O waiting to be squirted anytime. Now, words are too tangible and limited.

This year, I learned how to love myself... and I am still learning.

twenty-eight days ago

Twenty-eight days ago, he closed the door and kissed me before I know it.

And then he was there.. exploring my every skin until I had the courage to say stop.

"You know, I really appreciate that you like me, and I know that this has been running for quite a while now... but we really can't let this happen."

"This is just for fun, Joyce. Don't worry too much."

For fun?

Then I figured he meant it. His way of kissing me is so familiar... The last time I had that kind of kiss was to the person who never had the intention of loving me. Now, I hit another stinger. And I know I am right.

"Why do you like me?"

"Because you're very attractive, Joyce. Can't you see that?"

"No, I can't."


Something occurred to me again. Two years ago, I asked the same question to someone.

"Why do you like me?"

"Because you're simple. Because you're being you."

"I'm just a normal person. There's nothing special about me. Look at you..."


Back to the closed room, he held my legs and carried me. He pressed my body against him as we kissed and leaned on the wall.

I closed my eyes and felt depressed. You are such a looser, Joyce. I thought you swore you would never be a third party again..

I pulled back and look into his eyes.

"You know what, I really like this to go on... but let's be mind-over-matter on this, okay?"

"Okay, can we be at lest affectionate?"

I hung my head and tried not to look at him.

"You know what, you are one hundred percent correct. Let's keep this as professional as possible."

He opened the door and allowed me to leave.

De Ja Vu?

I just don't understand why me. I am beginning to believe that I am a third party material.

Why, of all people, him? Disregard the looks. But with all his assholeness in the workplace, with all his appalling personality, with all his family pictures everywhere in his room and his gold wedding ring shouting at his finger, why is he having this unexplainable guts to flirt me?

Take note, this has been running for a year already, but recently, things are getting out of hand.

There's just simply no aspect in his being that I can even begin to like, but...

Why am I beginning to secretly miss him when he is not in the office for the entire day?!

How long can I control myself of resisting his everyday flirtation? Every night, I need to remind myself that I've been there, done that and even condemned that. But why am I losing my mind when he sneaks from everybody's eyes just to hold me?

I've never needed a serious boyfriend until now... I badly need one... to do the nicest way of getting him out of my life.

It's For You

This is so overstated.

You don't have to talk. You don't owe me an explanation. I understand you're trying to be fair all this time. I was such a baby seeking for your attention, while I try to close my world for you. I wouldn't tell you I'm happy with how things are going between us, but maybe it's a consolation for you to know that I am doing okay with my life: I've just been promoted as paralegal; I'm back to school and have been challenged by readjustments but I'm enjoying my classes; family is pretty stable now since dad is no longer being brought to the hospital for quite some time now (except of course I have to bear his awkward gestures); and friends are doing well with their careers too. I've been keeping myself busy most of the time and have no time looking for someone new. But life is moving on and is giving me a chance to explore myself and everything around me. Well, in case you're worried if I seem to deliberately exhaust myself because I've been damaged with what happened with us that I cannot even entertain another relationship, you don't have to. I have moved on and have let you go.

My point is, you don't have to avoid me, although I seem to have a grasp why you're doing so. I just hope that although you no longer want to be caught online and you don't feel answering my e-mails, you still visit my blog and read my entries even without letting me know. It's fine though if you decide to break the communication for good if your reason is to prevent what happened last year to happen again. Well, I hope you didn't regret everything though. Maybe I just miss the friendship we created despite the distance. I could have willingly accepted our decision not to get too serious about what we feel, but to forget that we have developed a friendship that was so honest and enjoyable? That's the saddest part of it. I hope I'm wrong.

I'm quite aware that you'll be here few weeks from now, but I'm not expecting you to see me again because maybe it's better not to... if we are really concern not to end up with the same fate again. In the event that you decide to get in touch with me, I have no intention of avoiding you since you're still my friend. Otherwise, I wouldn't look for you. This is not because I don't want to see you again, but because I can safely assume you have to make up for the times you've lost on more important things.

As always, I hope you're doing okay in everything that you do.

Tuyot

Narito ako sa pambihirang pagkakataon na hindi ko na kayang magsulat. Naiwanan ko na ang ako dalawang taon na ang nakalilipas na aroganteng tumutupa ng makinilya nang walang tigil hanggang sa mairaos ang mga sumasabog na konsepto sa aking kaisipan. Nawala na ang bisa ng sigarilyo na kapag hinithit ko ay lilitaw ang mga mabibisang argumento na maisasalathala ko. Naibaon ko na rin sa limot ang mga magagaling na manunulat na nagtaguyod ng mga makasaysayang teorya na maaring makapagbigay-liwanag sa magulong realidad ng ating lipunan. Hindi na ako maka-Ingles ng diretso. Natuyo na ako at hindi ko na kayang tumayo.

Lumalabo na ang aking mga mata. O kaya'y nabubulag na ako. Ang mga salita ay para na lamang isang lipunan sa ilalim ng anarkiya. Walang disiplina. Walang patutunguhan. Walang saysay ang pagkabuhay. Wala na akong maintindihan sa aking sinisulat at sa aking mga biniburang pangungusap. Wala na akong pagmamahal sa mga sulating ako ang may akda. Kinahihiya ko na pati ang mga salitang lalabas pa lamang sa aking isipan.

Nawawala na ang aking yabang. Nawawala na rin ang aking mga pangarap.

Squared

Perhaps there still remains an idealist side of me...

A usual office morning, he wast circling at the non-legal staff area to gather his thoughts in response to a client's query; starting from my desk, ending at my desk.

"Is ma'am there?"

"Not yet, sir."

He leaned closer at me and gave a naughty whisper:

"You know what, when we were on our way to the office from a meeting yesterday at Makati, we talked about you. I asked her why you were chosen and she told me everything, including what she thinks about you. Do you already knew why you were chosen?"

"Not exactly. Why?"

"Do you think I'll just tell it just like that? You have to do something for me in return. Hehe."

"Huh? Ah okay sir, keep it to yourself then!"

A week later, he was blabbing to me how sipsip I am to my boss: how I defend her from her primadonna actions, how I do everything from her and how I unreasonably love her. Apparently, that's how he's telling me I got promoted.

Redundant as it is, this corporate world is just too happy working within a little box.

I know that it's just not him, but the entire department is talking about my politicking.

When I am the last non-legal staff to leave the office at 8pm uncompensated, am I exercising a sheer martyrdom just to acquire a goody-two-shoes impression to my boss? When I tolerate her extra-legal/power-tripping tendencies, am I being blind to the devil in her? When she apparently in pain of her poverty for just having a million-dollar savings, am I being a hypocrite to sympathize her?

First, I am not a believer that a labor must be equalized with a monetary value. It is not always about exploiting a laborer. It is about a laborer learning more than earning.

Second, exercising power is better done explicitly especially against unprofessional people around the workplace who are by all means suffering insecurity from where you are.

Third, it is better to complain the world how poor you are and still have cash at the back of your hand than to brag about the things you brought piled up in your credit line.

So much for their well-kept morality.

Grow

Two weeks ago, after a heaved sigh of nicotine, I pensively looked at her and said:

"Ma'am, what do you suggest? Should I pursue the position or not? If you suggest to me not to pursue it, it will really be okay. I will understand."

Her thoughts are far beyond her computer screen, then a bitter smile managed to get out of her tired face.

"Of course, if you will ask me and I got selfish, I want you to be my secretary. But I cannot be a hinder in the name of progress. After all, it's for your career advancement."

She crossed her arms, leaned on the lawyer's chair, and looked at my eyes.

"Kayo?"

"Ikaw?"

"Kayo po?"

"Hindi, ikaw?"

"Eh...!"

I have never thought that leaving from her grasp will be emotionally exhausting.

"Pag-isipan mo. After all, if you got accepted, you'll still be under me." She tried to laugh and refocus her attention to her wide screen.

***********

One week ago, one and a half hour after the office period expired, she asked me to go to her room and asked some last few errands.

"Joyce, can you find out tomorrow how much the rate is? And here's the engagement letter, can you please scan this?"

"Yes ma'am."

It was a normal office day and I was already at the phase of accepting her rejection to my proposal to leave her side.

"And... Joyce?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"I chose you ha, so you have to be trained by Tess. And at the same time, promise me you'll train your replacement for me ha?"

I could not even manage to smile upon hearing the good news.

"Ma'am, that is so sad."

"Yeah, that is so sad... Ano ka ba? It's for your career advancement naman, di ba?"

*******************

Then I realized... I did not mean to end up looking at her as my mom, but I do.

Good Enough

Don’t tell me I haven’t been good to you
Don’t tell me I have never been there for you
Don’t tell me why
Nothing is good enough ("Good Enough, Sarah McLachlan)

I just have to know why no one can be perfect so I can bear everybody's dismissive looks when they hear my name. I defy to be a failure even to myself, yet I never thought of striving for that perfect person I am expected to be. I tried to defy perfection since the time I regained confidence to myself, but perfection is haunting me and giving me reason why I have never been good enough.

I cannot even create a coherent entry as this.

I am not good enough to anything since time immemorial, and that is how I was conceived. I struggle with all the rules, from grammars to mores. I forget relevant facts from office protocols to how I fell in love. I regress everyday as my neurons explode from this deadly nicotine and as my sympathies turn into indifference. I am often compared to be less competitive than the rest. I have never made a good impression that I did not frustrate. I always almost, and may just always be almost, grasped my achievements.

I can never be good enough to be loved.

I can never be a straight-A student.

I can never be the most efficient assistant.

I can never be a good daughter and sibling.

I can never be the most sympathetic friend.

Thus, I am like this.

I still believe I can defy the standard operating procedure of conforming, if not consciously complying, to other people's impressions even if it means painful isolation from the maintream. If no one could care when I cannot be good enough, I must not care so as to care for myself.

Again

Two days ago, I left the office at 8:30pm to finalize my boss' UK Visa. Then, waited for the bus. Then, lined for a cab. It was raining all throughout. Two days from then is the deadline of the submission of all my papers. I barely made the last one for there are too many things in my head: career, family, money, studies, future, God, solace, etc. Then, migraine.

It's been a while since the last time I had one.

This time, no one eased the throbbing pain but me and my spirit.

Something just occurred to me... but it's okay.

I'm okay.

Senseless

Still beleaguered from my latest developments...

I cannot write a paper out of a stagnating mind caused by corporate mindset and administrative simplifications. As I struggle to get out of the corporate world through gambling this master's degree that promises a research career, I find myself dumbfounded by the same sets of literature which I have been reading (and actually adoring) during my polsci days. What is happening to me? Am I just being too hard on myself? Or am I not giving my utmost capability in the undertakings of my so-called specialization?

Few weeks to go and the term is over. I am afraid to admit that until this very moment, I am still adjusting and still struggling to divide the two worlds I created: my job and my class. Worse is the possibility of not bringing Joyce back to life and to the craft of writing that has been her lifeline in her so-called academic world.

Issues

It does recur.

The issue of being single, again and again. People equate happiness to having a partner. And it's such an annoying feeling to question my single-hood. I'm sick of contemplating my state of being single; further, to justify it. I may need affection, I may need "love", but I am not (and perhaps will never be) prepared for the responsibility of commitments ( I know it's redundant). Afraid? To certain degree, yes. Not being too defensive, but fear is not the primary issue. It's just that, I can sense an unexplainable burden when serious relationship is about to sink in at the scenario. Whatever that is, that burden is more burdensome than enduring this so-called loneliness. People who doesn't know me well finds it a given that I have a boyfriend. The time when I insist I am not, they just can't absorb the idea and (perhaps, I assume) silently conclude that something's wrong with me. At times I am seriously considering their 'diagnosis' too. Anyway, I am carefully restraining myself into delving further, lest I would harness this growing depression.

Another myopic thing, I am sick of observing things into bulk. One can condemn a system, a behavior, but to sum it all up into a sweeping generalization of the "identity of a collective" is incomprehensible. True, I hate the system of UP; as I said, I am even willing to make an empirical study with the hypothesis that "UP system is the microcosm of the Philippine bureaucratic system'. But that is it. I dislike the system, and not claim that all UP students (or include faculty) are the airhead activists that many people may label them. Same is true with the study of law. I overtly argue time and again with not just one group of people that law is not for me because the curriculum requires the students to embrace conformity. In fact, I just read a political economy article, stating that "law is the codification of norms." And it's just out of my character. That doesn't mean, moreover, that all lawyers are conformist at all times. And so, going further, I was frustrated to be treated by an Atenean lawyer (which happens to be one of my bosses) a disgust to find out I am taking my master's degree at La Salle, since DLSU students as they say, are not studying anyway. Worst, asking what degree I am specializing, and telling them it's development policy (and consequently explaining to them that it's a polsci thing), they feel it's futile and advised me to shift in MBA instead. In the end, I blame myself of setting this discussion not just only in this corporate environment of the office; but more specifically to the people working at the Corporate Commercial Department. What is a "weird" person like me doing here anyway?

Final thought, I condemn the proliferation of free-riders. I hope I am not sounding too normative, but being in the graduate school, everybody is supposed to be independent to accomplish course requirements. The methodology of the professors itself suggets a very individualistic way of passing the course. Don't argue that independence and selfishness is equivocal here, because I am not talking of moral values. The instance we decided to take a graduate study is a clear indication that we are challenging ourselves to grow further. Supposedly, nobody is counting on the other to provide them a book and further expects to receive the charity of a classmate of paying for them in advance. We are all struggling for our own survival here.

There are more issues I cannot contain any further...

At 22

It was one of the least popular birthdays I ever had as I took charge on the occurences of that entire day and do nothing but normal. What was in store anyway? It was a busy Tuesday; I was literally out of touch to anybody since my time was consumed by the normal office hours and the class I have to attend thirty minutes after that. And not a soul from the people I engaged with that entire day know that it is my birthday, which added the thrill, of course. The 'Birthday of the Month" that is usually posted in the office's intranet was delayed for a week due to the laziness of the Admin Department, which was immensely favorable on my part. I did not find it necessary to inform the people around me about the so-called special day anyway, including my boss. How would I say it anyway, "Hi, you know what, it's my birthday today." Whether I like it or not, however I say it, it will remain pointless especially when the birthday celebrant herself is not the biggest fan of birthday celebrations. And however my officemates curse me once the birthday celebrants are posted in the net, what was done is done.

It may have been my most selfish birthday for nobody gained anything on that day but myself. I just had my little realizations at the end of the day: Birthdays are customarily commemorated out of self-congratulations, which is automatically accompanied with traditional nostalgia of the success/failures undergone and the conscious assessment of growth of the self from the entire year passed. And doing such ritual is most likely dangerous. It is not that people must keep on moving forward without any time offered for self-reflection, but the idea of self-congratulations may undermine the momentum of moving forward. It is not the assessment itself that is dangerous, but the luxury of appreciation of the achievement of the self.

For the twenty-four hours exclusively granted for an individual to remember his or her own existence in the three-hundred and sixty-five days of a year may something be special for him or her, but for the rest of the humankind, it is nothing but an ordinary day when hours are swift and consumed towards the achievement of something beyond the present situation. And to keep oneself on preservering to move forward to achieve something substantial in the long run on the day of your birth is more than just a birthday treat for yourself.

Not Anymore

This space...

It stops me from wondering what have you become. It stops me from self-infliction. It groomed my pride. It destroyed my vices. It stops me from looking for you. It convinced me you're no longer there.

This space is unbearable

For it aborted the self that I know.

***

Too many hours was consumed from waiting in vain for you. Too many possibilities I've thought of to understand your absence. Too many times I've tried to prove myself wrong.

I used to be afraid for an invisible wall to exist between us. No matter how much I tried to believe when you say nothing has changed, I can't help but notice how days ran dry without any sign from you. I should know how to get used to it if I could not find out why.

I used to feel you even when you're not there... but not anymore.

Primadonna

For the third time, I was 'regrettably" informed that I am not qualified to be a UP student. But if there is one among these three given instances which I deem unjustifiable, it would be this. After one and a half months of waiting for the examination result from barely twenty applicants, I am excluded among the eighty-five percent who made it. The initial reaction is, to deny myself from being too stupid enough not to pass. I accepted in the instant that this may be about the statistics part of the exam that was so bound to flop. I could have retreated that easily if not for the suggestion from them (yes, from the admin themselves!) to write a letter for reconsideration to the college secretary. It sounded like a very useful tip, since as they said, no one has ever been rejected through that. But that actually pissed me off. What is the use of taking that entrance exam when you can merely put your knees down, lick their asses and be damn sure that you will 'belong' to them in the end?

Moreover, the application procedure presented in their site is inconsistent with the 'real' procedure: it turned out that regardless of the score made in the statistical part, all applicants are compelled to take a non-credit course in statistics, Mondays-Wednesdays-Fridays for two weeks, scheduled at 5:30 in the afternoon. Worst of all is the 5:30 schedule itself that forces applicants to go undertime thrice a week from their offices just to be qualified to enroll in June. Given that they are requiring applicants to have at least one year work experience, it is well understood that most of their students are working students, who will be most of the time be in the office, either from 8am to 5pm or 9am to 6pm. Even an employee who can get out of the office at 5pm must literally fly to UP just to make it for the 5:30 class. All efforts to be exerted for a 'non-credit'-yet-subject-to-payment statistics course. I am inclined to think that the system sounded like a little Republic of the Philippines.

Maybe I am just to bitter, but I am quite aware that I am making sense somehow.

Good thing I gambled a confirmation to DLSU. I still have a good school with a better system. By the way, I already swore to be successful without that UP diploma.

Forgiveness

For the persons who refused to know me.For you who never listens to anyone but yourself. When I was still vain from innocence and you were still a father with firm decisions, I used to see you as a figure that rests in the intellectual pedestal. When I was in the formative years of maturity, your presence was a sign of fear and a threat to my happiness. Your persistence to exercise your patriarchal position forced me to fabricate a daughter who you want to see. I thought this compromise can last forever until we both become stubborn and struggle to be free from being the persons they know. I will not bend for your forgiveness for being an insensitive daughter. But I have to forgive everything you have done and all the things you are about to do to me so I can escape from this guilt that your patriarchal system has created in me.

For the love that died from your selfishness. Beyond your knowledge, I am doing this to free myself. Perhaps I am more eager to see you again because of the anxiety to forgive you finally. In spite of all the means you had done that brought me down, which almost destroyed myself, I look forward for the day when I can completely convince myself that I have forgiven you. Weeks before, you made me expect that this would finally happen. But I should have known that you have never changed: you still make hasty decisions out of the spur of the moment then quickly retreat when your action submerge into your senses, while being insensitive of its effect to the people around you. Yet what you did made me realize that I don’t need your presence just to forgive you. What I need to do is to stop playing the events when you refused too see how much I loved you.

Sad Surrenders

We spent most of the holy week in the hospital looking for our dad whose body gave up from his stubborn mind. I anticipated that moment to happen days before. I was even wishing this incident would happen to give him a serious realization that he must know how to listen. When he was rushed to the hospital from the cold sidewalk of Antipolo where he lost his consciousness, nobody was bewildered among us but my mom. The rest of us silently facilitated both of them on the way to the nearest hospital. It was the worst breakdown I've seen from my dad, yet I know, knowing his mind-over-matter stubborn personality that he would survive as before. Hours later, he was stable enough to be transferred to his doctor's hospital.

I could not understand until now how I took the situation. What is clear is that I did not feel any hatred from his stuborness. Somehow, I've lived through it, despite relative resistance from over twenty years of my life. Now, his world is getting smaller due to the numerous restrictions he has to comply. As of me, I'm gradually accepting the fact that I cannot afford to live a life of my own as long as my dad is frail... which appears to be for as long as he lives. Maybe this readiness of waiving my 'freedom' hasn't still submerged to my senses. But it seems that nobody is willing to watch over my parents but me. Both of my siblings are having their own lives before my dad started to deteriorate. I was about to have mine, but it is now slowly being aborted because of this situation.

When I was embracing my mom who was drowned with tears from fear, I know that from then on, I will always have to be strong for her because she refuses to rely from anyone's strength but mine. As for me, I must always find a way to be strong out of myself and forget my vulnerabilities. At this note, I envy my siblings who have the freedom to show their fears to their loved ones anytime they wanted to be.

Both Sides Now

Bows and flows of angel hair and ice cream castles in the air
And feather canyons everywhere, I've looked at cloud that way.
But now they only block the sun, they rain and snow on everyone.
So many things I would have done but clouds got in my way.

I've looked at clouds from both sides now,
From up and down, and still somehow
It's cloud's illusions I recall.
I really don't know clouds at all.

Moons and Junes and ferris wheels, the dizzy dancing way you feel
As every fairy tale comes real, I've looked at love that way.
But now it's just another show, you leave 'em laughing when you go
And if you care, don't let them know, don't give yourself away.

I've looked at love from both sides now,
From give and take, and still somehow
It's love's illusions I recall.
I really don't know love at all.

Tears and fears and feeling proud to say "I love you" right out loud,
Dreams and schemes and circus crowds, I've looked at life that way.
But now old friends are acting strange, they shake their heads, they say
I've changed.
Something's lost but something's gained in living every day.

I've looked at life from both sides now,
From win and lose, and still somehow
It's life's illusions I recall.
I really don't know life at all.

Kagabi

Kagabi, iyak ako ng iyak. Halos hindi ko napahinto ang sarili ko. Hindi ko maalala kung paano nagsimula, o kung ano ang iniisip ko para umiyak ako nang pagkatagal-tagal.

Samantalang noong kamakalawa lang, inubos ko ang pera ko para bumili ng mga bagay na pampaganda.

Napapansin ko lang, dumadalas kong yakapin ang dalawang pinagpatong kong unan para makatulog. Siguro nangungulila ako.

Hindi talaga ako makatulog kagabi. Bigla akong nilunod ng lungkot at hindi ako makahinga. Umupo ako at hinayaang hanginan ng hangin ng bentildor ang aking mukha. Pero nanginig ako at nanlamig. Sa ika-siyamnapu't-siyam na pagkakataon, naramdaman ko ang pag-iisa.

Kanina, bumili na naman ako ng pabango - ang bagay na hindi ko ginagamit mula ng nagdalaga ako. Ikatlong palit ko na ng pabango sa loob ng isang buwan.

Gusto

Gusto ko silang makitang magka-pakiramdam.

Sa tuwing nagmamahal ako, hindi ko pinagkakait ang nararamdaman ko sa taong mahal ko. Hindi ko pinagsisisihan ang lahat ng pagmamahal na kaya kong ibigay. Hindi ko sila pinapahirapang alamin kung ano ang nasa isip ko.

Siguro ito na rin ang dahilan kung bakit hindi ko sila nararamdaman. Masyado akong abala sa kaya kong ibigay at sa mga binibigay kong pagmamahal sa kanila kaya't nakakalimutan ko ng pansinin kung paano nila iyon tinatanggap.

Gusto ko silang maramdamang magka-pakiramdam.

Minsan, gusto kong paniwalain ang sarili ko na kahit minsan, umiyak ang taong minamahal ko ng dahil sa akin. Gusto kong maniwala na nasaktan ko sila kaya't napaiyak ko sila. Pero mas gusto kong maniwala na umiyak sila dulot ng tuwang pinadama ng aking pagmamahal sa kanila.

Isa ring pantasya para sa akin ang pagpantasyahan nila ako.

Sana ay sumagi sa isip nila ang mga masasayang alalaala naming dalawa at sana, dumating sila sa sitwasyon na ginusto rin nila akong balikan upang bumalik ang nakaraan. Kung masaya man sila ngayon sa piling ng bago nilang mahal, sana kahit minsan, naikumpara nila ako at nasabi nila sa kanilang mga sarili na mas minahal ko sila kung ikukumpara sa pagmamahal na pinapakita ng mahal nila ngayon.

Hindi ko sinasabing dapat naging patas sila sa akin sa lahat ng oras. Hindi iyon maaring mangyari dahil ang mundo ay hindi nilikha na eskwalado.

At lalong hindi ko ito ginagawa para makakuha ng awa sa kanila. Sa totoo lang, mas nangingibabaw ang awa kaysa pagmamahal na pinapamalas nila sa akin noong panahong minahal ko sila. Pilit kong inaalam kung bakit ganito ang kanilang naramdaman, pero mukhang imposibleng alamin. Lagi nilang sinasabi sa akin na makakakita rin ako ng taong magmamahal sa akin na higit pa sa pagmamahal na kaya nilang ibigay.

Ayokong aminin sa sarili ko na ang lahat ng taong minahal ko ay hindi ako kayang mahalin. Mas mahihirapan akong hanapin ang sagot diyan.

Siguro dapat hindi na lang ako nakakaramdam. Hindi na lang ako dapat nagmamahal para mapansin ko ang mga kayang ibigay ng mga taong magmamahal sa akin sa hinaharap. Marahil mas maganda kung hahayaan ko na lang ang sarili kong tumanggap at ipagkait ang pagbigay. Alam kong hindi dapat, pero ito lang ang naiisip kong paraan para hindi maniwala sa teoryang hindi ako kayang mahalin ng mga taong mahal ko.

At siguro sinasabi ko lang ang mga bagay na ito dahil gusto kong paangatin ang tingin ko sa sarili ko. Mahirap din kasing manghula habang buhay kung saan napupunta ang pagmamahal na ilang ulit ko nang binigay. At lalong mahirap aminin sa sarili na minarapat lamang nila na ipawalang-saysay ang pagmamahal na pinamalas ko.

Nakakapagod na rin kasing magmahal.

O kaya siguro... hindi pa talaga ako marunong magmahal.

Perpekto

Ang hirap maging perpekto. Noong isang taon, asar ako sa mga taong perpekto. Bakit ba kasi kailangan punahin ang tuldok? Bakit hindi pwedeng patawarin ang simpleng pagkakamali? Para sa akin, napakababaw nilang tao.

Pagkatapos ng isang taon, dinagsa ako ng mga perpektong tao. Noong nakita ko si Donemark,nabuo ang loob kong maging abogado. Hindi naman pala kasi lahat ng abogado mayabang. Meron palang abogadong galing UP na may Diyos. Mabait na asawa, mapagpasensiyang tao.

Dumaan ang anim na buwan, nakilala ko si ESB. Pwede palang makatapos ang estudyanteng nagtatrabaho. Valedictorian siya sa Mindoro. Noong kinuha niya Economics sa Ateneo at law sa UP, working student siya. Galing siya sa hirap, at hindi pa rin niya kinakalimutan mga pinaghirapan niya. Sobra pa rin siya magtipid. Notebook niya, cartoon characters, ballpen niya, Panda.

Ilang linggo pa lang ang nakakaraan noong unang beses kami nag-usap ni PTL. Hindi kagaya ni Donemark at ESB, hindi siya dumaan sa hirap. Pero siya lang ang babaeng international partner sa amin. Filipino-Chinese siya, maraming koneksyon, mabusisi, hindi basta-basta nagkakamali sa kabila ng katandaan.

Ngayon, pinpilit nila akong maging perpekto kagaya nila.

Pinapapaniwala nila ako na magiging matagumpay ako kung pipilitin kong maging perpekto. Siguro, ang mga abogado, gutom sa asenso kaya hindi nagtatagal, nagiging perpekto rin sila. Hindi ako naiinggit. Sa totoo lang, hanga ako sa kanila. Pero hindi ako magiging ganun. Siguro hindi dahil sa takot akong subukan, pero sa nakikita ko ngayon, hindi ako magiging masaya sa buhay perpekto. Hindi ko alam kung masaya sila ngayon sa ginagawa nila. Sana oo, para hindi naman sayang ang oras na meron sa kanila.

Color Quiz (again)

Existing Situation
Physical illness, over-tension, or emotional distress has taken a severe toll. Her self-esteem has been reduced and she now needs peaceful conditions and considerate treatment to permit recovery.

Stress Sources
An existing situation or relationship is unsatisfactory, but she feels unable to change it to bring about the sense of belonging which she needs. Unwilling to expose her vulnerability, she therefore continues to resist this state of affairs, but feels dependent on the attachment. This not only depresses her but makes her irritable and impatient producing considerable restlessness and the urge to get away from the situation, either actually or, at least, mentally. Ability to concentrate may suffer.

Restrained Characteristics
Feels that she is receiving less than her share and that there is no one on who she can rely for sympathy and understanding. Pent-up emotions make her quick to take offense, but she realizes that she has to make the best of things as they are.

Desired Objective
Seeks success, stimulation, and a life full of experience. Wants to develop freely and to shake off the shackles of self-doubt, to win, and to live intensely. Likes contacts with others and is enthusiastic by nature. Receptive to anything new, modern, or intriguing; has many interests and wants to expand her fields of activity. Optimistic about the future.

Actual Problem
Anxiety and restless dissatisfaction, either with circumstances or with unfulfilled emotional requirements, have produced stress. She tries to escape by intense activity, directed either towards personal success or towards variety of experience. The fear that she might be prevented from achieving the things she wants leads her to play her part with an urgent and hectic intensity.

Ought

In the name of money, I have to turn back from who I am and love the person I never dreamt to be.

I am under the microscope in the coming days. I ought not to frustrate expectant people that surrounds me. I ought to multiply my efforts to be accepted. I ought to be thankful for where I am and carry the prestige awarded upon me. I ought to show a sense of vindication before the people that brought me down. I ought to accept that it is payback time for the people who has been there for me all along. I ought to raise my lifestyle far beyond what I can. I ought to display perfection.

I must admit that this is the disposition I had been dreaming of a few months ago. But now I am there, I never felt so alone. I thought I was dreaming much more than I should. But when dreams begin to materialize, I never felt so appalled in myself for wanting this kind of life. Situations are unexpectedly conforming to my plans. But I never felt so clueless in who I really am and what I want to be.

Pasyal (Sugarfree)

Isang araw tayo’y namasyal
Upang pagod natin matanggal
Kailangan nating maaliw
Bago tayo tuluyang mabaliw

Nagawi tayo sa may dagat at sa ating pagmamasid
Biglang may batang sumisid at tayo’y nabigla
Dahil buong akala, malalim ang dagat
Mababaw lang pala

Hanggang napagod tayong umikot
Kung saan saan na rin pala tayo umabot
Ang gusto lang natin malaman
Meron pa ba tayong ibang mapupuntahan?

Nagawi tayo sa isang tabi
May aleng naglalako ng cotton candy
Sarap titigan, sarap kainin
Pero pag kinagatan parang wala palang laman

Hanggang napagod tayong umikot
Kung saan saan na rin pala tayo umabot
Ang gusto lang natin malaman
Meron pa ba tayong ibang mapupuntahan?

Naakit at napabili tayo ng lobo
At di sinasadyang nabitawan
Di man lang natin hinabol
Hinahayaang lumipad, hanggang mawala
Hanggang makalimutan na natin
Kung bakit nga ba tayo naakit

Hanggang napagod tayong umikot
Kung saan saan na rin pala tayo umabot
At huli na nang ating malaman
Wala na pala tayong ibang mapupuntahan

Hanggang dito na lang
Hanggang dito na lang

Isang araw tayo’y namasyal
Upang pagod natin matanggal

Grip

"Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry

You don't know how lovely you are

I had to find you, tell you I need you

Tell you I set you apart

Tell me your secrets, ask me your questions

Oh let's go back to the start

Running in circles, coming up tails

Heads on a silence apart"

The Scientist - Coldplay

You are not thinking too much.

We are strong enough to specify as much as we can what are the troubles inside. Yet words crumble, to no avail, and fail to conquer each message that atempts to come out. But between our voices are salient episodes of silence that is more expressive than our confessions.

How I wish I can seize your care, wrap it in a plastic, tighten the seal, and bring it wherever I go. How I wish you can water this fiery psychological distress. For to break me from this cold, age-old shell, to save me from drowning in the pool of expectations, all I need to do is believe that you believe in me.

And what is the best way to express my deep appreciation for the strength you have shown me through all this time than to touch your face and see you shine from your smile of bitterness. When you felt unworthy of being the burden in the center of my little world, I then felt unworthy of being a burden for you in the trouble of unloading this burden to me.

I cannot remember the exact words you said to come up with the impression of being there while setting me free. This grip that is keeping us uptight is out of my fear of loosing an irreplaceable you. But you need to breathe to be eased from this discomfort I have caused you.

And I need to look at life beyond this wonderful episode and transgress from this playful imagination.

Expression is a matter of degree and it is relative from person to person. A feeling cannot formulate further explanation, despite forcing it to answer why.

All that is left for me is to keep on believing in you.

But believe me when I say that no one can understand me better.

One more thing...

Believe me when I say that you have done more than enough to prove to me that you are not one of them.

Bumaba ang Buwan

Bumaba ang buwan upang matumbasan ang init ng araw
Upang ang hatinggabi ay mabalot ng kaligayahan
Nang ang hinagpis ay magtago sa kalawakan

Bumaba ang buwan para yumuko at magpakumbaba
Para burahin ang mga lihim na bangungot
Upang magbantay sa aking pagtulog

Bumaba ang buwan nang hindi ako mangawit maningala
At ang mapanglaw nitong liwanag ay dagliang nambulag
Nang bigla nitong titigan ang luhaan kong mga mata

Bumaba ang buwan mula sa tuktok ng pagdurusa
At samahan ako sa hikbi ng aking pag-iisa
Bumaba ang buwan upang magsanib kaming dalawa

Ngunit unti-unting umapoy nang kami'y magyakap
Kami ay napaso sa init ng aming katawan
At nagsumiklab ang katotohanang hindi kami handa

Ayoko ng Reunion

"Alaala, inaamag na sa isipan. Nariyan ka pala, nagdurusa sa dilim."

Meron daw kami HS reunion sa Feb12. Marami nagyayaya sa akin na pumunta. Ayos lang naman dahil makikipag-gaguhan na naman ako sa mga kapwa maldita kong mga kaibigan. Pero bukod doon, ayoko talagang pumunta.

Kahit kailan, kahit noon nag-aaral pa lang ako sa elementarya, hindi ko nakita ang sarili ko na dumadalo ng reunion. Kung tutuusin, wala naman akong sama ng loob kahit maraming nanakot sa akin noong grade skul ako at kahit maraming nagpaguho ng aking pagkatao noong hayskul. Ahehe. Aminin ko man na malaking bahagi ng pagkatao ko ngayon ay mga lamat na dulot ng aking pagkabata, hindi naman talaga ang mga pangyayari noon ang humahadlang sa akin para dumalo sa mga ganyang klase ng reunion. Dahil higit na malaki ang kasalanan (at pasasalamat) ko sa sarili ko kung bakit ako nagkaganito.

Kasi naman, bakit may reunion agad? Hindi man lamang naka-sampung taon mula noong huli kaming magkita-kita, tapos reunion agad? Wala kasi masyadong pananabik sa isa't isa kapag ganoon. Masyado pa kaming bata para manariwa ng nakaraan. Marami pa kaming mga pangyayaring isasakatuparan upang mapunan ang aming mga alalaala sa pagtanda (kung umabot man).

Ayokong pumunta dahil hindi naman ako nananabik sa mga nagbagong itsura nila. Eh ano kung tumaba, pumuyat, pumangit, o gumanda ang mga taong iyon? Buhay nila iyon. At hindi rin mahalaga kung sabihin kong, "Oy! tumaba ka a." Alam kong hindi nila ginustong pumunta doon para lamang marinig na mataba sila. Kung iyon lang ang paraan upang bumati at magbukas ng usapan, malamang ay mawawalang-gana ang kakausapin.

Ayokong pumunta dahil kailangan kong ngitian ang napakaraming mga taong wala naman naging makahulugang papel sa buhay ko. Kung tutuusin, noong mga panahong araw-araw pa kaming nagkikita sa maliit na mundo ng eskwelahan, hindi naman talaga kami nagpapansinan lahat (kadalasan ay nagapapaligsahan at nagsusungitan at nagtra-trayduran pa kami). Bakit kailangang magpansinan ngayon, lalo't magkakaiba na ang mga mundong aming ginagalawan?

Ayokong pumunta dahil nakakatamad nang mangalap ng tsismis tungkol sa buhay ng may buhay - kapwa mag-aaral man o guro o punong-guro: Nabuntis si ganito, si ganyan at ganyan nagkatuluyan, nag-asawa na rin sa wakas si Ms. Ano, na-demote si ano kasi ano. Siguro nga ay isang aspeto ng kasiyahan ang napupunan sa ganoong uri ng usapan. Masaya naman talagang gawin iyon kung tutuusin, ngunit minsan naiisip ko na ayokong pumalit sa posisyon ng mga taong pinag-uusapan namin. Sino kaya ang gugustuhing pag-usapan ang kaibuturan ng kanyang buhay ng mga taong wala naman talagang pakialam sa pagkatao niya at gusto lang may mapag-usapan?

Ayokong pumunta, lalo na kung maraming matatalino ang pupunta, dahil cien por ciento, magpapayabangan lang kami ng narating sa mga buhay namin. Natutunan ko pagkatapos ng kolehiyo na ang pinakamakamandag na tanong ay: "Saan ka ngayon?" Hindi pa kami cuarenta y años para magsukatan ng tagumpay; bagkus, lahat kaming katatapos lang ng kolehiyo ay nagsisimula pa lamang lumaban sa buhay. At ano naman kung wala pang narating? Hindi iyon nangangahulugan na ang taong iyon ay isang talunan at wala na kailanman mararating sa natitirang oras ng kanyang buhay. Sa isang banda, hindi naman ang distansya ng narating ang tanging pamantayan ng kaligayahan. Eh ano kung ang sweldo mo ay doble ng sweldo ko at may mga utusan ka sa paligid mo at ako ay ang siyang inuutusan? Hindi ibig sabihin noon na ikaw na ang pinakamagaling -- lalo na't pinakamasayang tao sa balat ng lupa. Sa wari ko tuloy, ang mga dati kong ka-eskuwela na magsisiwalat ng kanyang matagumpay na katayuan (lalo na kung wala naman nagtatanong) ay gusto lamang manlimos ng paghanga, pagkilala, o sa kasukdulan, kainggitan ng mga taong nasa likod ng kanyang karera.

At higit sa lahat, ayokong pumunta dahil ayoko ng mala-soap operang tagpuan. Sa tantsa ko, may mga mag-iiyakan doon na magaganap na dinulot ng galit o hinanakit na pinalamig na ng mahabang panahon. Ayoko man makakita ng ganoon pangyayari, higit na hindi ko magugustuhan kung sa akin mangyari ang mga ganoong pangitain.

Ngunit pag-iisipan ko pa rin...

That Dog

"To dream that a dog bites you on the leg, suggests that you have lost your ability to balance aspects of your life. You may be hesitant in approaching a new situation or have no desire to move forward with your goals."

Nicotine and Tea

"She had failed to understand his apprehensive attempts to save thier love from banality..." (Milan Kundera, Unbearable Lightness of Being, p.83)

I closed the book, sipped a pool of mint tea, puff a menthol cigar and stare blankly at a distant space. Now, I am beginning to write...

Can we blame overestimation of our emotions when we suddenly realize, just a little too late, that we cannot think of somewhere to go from here?

Will it be easy to accept when we confess that we are better off at a distance than when we feel the nearness of each other?

Can overcommunication be a form of overdose to worsen the disease called longing to be less alone?

Are we just trying too much and overeager for a better second chance for another nothing at all?

Can we still escape the banality of this regularity?

How can a marathon exchange of thoughts be intimate than making love?

Why can I understand you more from your loneliness than teasing laughs?


Then maybe, I am just being too speculative.

But there can be no more lucid manifestation of my thought's uncertainty than to allow my body be polluted and cleansed at the same time.


"Sex must be liberating, not binding."

Your norm still swims with my confused thoughts even if it was already several months since the last time I heard this from you.

Then I suddenly realize you're right. This longing to unite my body with yours can never transcend into the unity of anything but physical. Touching you fails to make me know you better. And how I began to know you deeper than your surface may just be a mere accident.

Halfway

You're halfway there. And in every passing hour, I can feel you leaving.

But I am halfway there to let you know how much you're worth, to make you feel how much I miss you.

Unspoken thoughts consume what may be moments to spend with you. But then I stopped bothering to put competing yet improper words to my mouth. For I need to embrace every moment you stare at me. I need to kiss your every skin to grasp this reality.

And as time refuses to stand still, I have this unexplainable urgency to let you feel me... for every moment might be the last instance of feeling you breathe.

I had never been afraid of changes until you happened.

Whatever tomorrow brings, I fear tomorrow. If tomorrow you will no longer be there for me... if tomorrow I will top yearning the warmth of your care... if tomorrow means finding someone better... I might as well never sleep so tomorrow will never come.

Somewhere in Between

I have to go somewhere in between two familiar places hated by few people. When home is a refuge of a tired body from work. When work is the dynamism yearned for from the suffocation of home. I must find a courage to go somewhere in between. Courage to accept the consequences of hurting myself from hurting people that surrounds me.

I have to find shelter not housed in a man's body nor from any divinity. I need euphoria not offered by loud music nor capsules. I need to sleep to escape existence - that space between the two restricting dimensions of my little world. If that is the only choice that guarantees no regrets granted for a coward escapist as me.

The eternal trance offered by unconsciousness is an unending space that does not recognize pressure and time is unheard.

But it could not be Death despite its power to ultimately pacify one's body. It destroys numerous hearts trapped from happy memories. It is chocked with endless begging for little more chances and remorse from chances ignored and ran dry.

I need to make love with myself to realize I am real, that reality is not only bound from pain that existence brings. I need to fall in love with myself despite myself to truthfully accept I am beautiful and loved. In this given little space I have learned to despise, I find myself detached and incapable to feel love.

If to love is to unconsciously expect to be loved in return, might as well not love at all. Might as well drift myself to forgetfulness and lose myself to sleep.

Yakap

Maari ba akong lumapit upang yakapin kita nang hindi lang saglit? Matagal na akong naghihintay na maniwala na maari ko pang makita ang isang tulad mo na hahalik sa aking mga kalungkutan. Pinahihintulutan man ako ng pagkakataon sa ngayon na mahawakan ka, sana ay buksan mo ang iyong mga mata upang pagmasdan ang masasaya kong luhang ikaw ang sanhi.

Mawalan man ako ng pag-asa at paniniwalang maitatama ko pa ang malungkot kong buhay, pilit na pinadarama sa akin ng iyong mga ngiti na hindi mo ako hahayaang umiyak mag-isa. Sa pagharap ng pagal kong kaluluwa sa kahihiyang pinapamukha sa akin ng buhay, nananatiling matatag ang iyong paniniwala sa aking lakas na hindi ko man lamang matagpuan.

At tila hinahayaan mo na lamang matunaw ang iyong bawat oras sa paghawak lamang ng aking mga kamay nang walang panghihinayang. Hindi mo man makita ang saysay ng pagyakap mo sa malungkot kong buhay, sana ay naipadarama ko sa iyo na ikaw ang pinakamagandang nangyayari sa buhay ko, dahil hinahayaan mo akong buhayin ng mga yakap mo.