I have been waiting for “it” to fall…

There are things in life that no matter how hard you try to keep to yourself and to others will eventually show. No amount of mastery can keep one’s face from being stoic all the time especially if your heart is crushed. I've tried it once and found a tear dropping without me knowing it. As a child, I grew up shy and undemonstrative (almost to the point of lying to myself). I worry when someone observes me. I get paranoid when someone knew what goes in my brain.  What goes in my head is my business so I always have to keep a cool face. 

[Postscript]

dearest droplet,

You continue to rock my world. I have watched you and waited for you to fall, but you did not. You hanged in that old, wet trunk for too long. My feet got tired, my hands went numbed but you kept your stance. You never gave in. And just when I have decided to give up, to leave…in a wink of an eye, you dropped. Just like that. You could have warned me you know. I wanted you drop on my hand. I wanted to save you.

still in awe,

the girl who likes to wait

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I got a call this morning for a writing project. Yes, they will pay me. Tempting but my deadlines are way over the top :-( Crazy deadlines.

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I have a crazy idea in my head. Three letters: PhD. And then a more crazy idea. Two words: Comparative Literature. Geezus, I should lessen my caffeine in take. I am having sleeping problems again. Two weeks in a row!

You sting like the bees

Like the fire that ignites, pain can sometimes consume an emotion. I let myself be stung by the bees and felt nothing for awhile. Until I saw my skin swell and felt one of the bees' barbed stinger lingered . A friend told me I have a high tolerance for pain, I could have not known that. Pain is something that is so familiar that tolerance becomes an understatement. 

Will they cry if I die?

I was at Bali Hai last night with friends and co-writers from graduate school. I haven’t seen them for awhile and finding a schedule for us to meet was just a pain in the ass. I am usually not around or someone is. Until last night.

In the midst of those shimmering, gold hanging ornaments and the mood-like atmosphere of Bali, each of us told our stories, vented, updated. I also wanted to vent but had second thoughts about it. I am really selfish when it comes to sharing my deepest thoughts in a crowd. I get intimidated by the anticipated reactions. I wanted to tell them what has been bothering me for the longest time, but thought, “nah…they won’t be interested.” Besides, their stories are far more interesting than what I had to say. So anyway, while one of them was telling her story about this common friend of ours, my mind wandered. And I looked at each one of them and thought: “Will they cry if I die? I mean really cry and be hurt and be miserable because of my lost?” Geez, the thoughts inside my head were just swirling away into the wind. Maybe they will cry but they will not be miserable. They will move on. Eventually a day or two.

That same night, someone texted me: "Hi 2 days ka nang parang sad ha. Hope all is well. Although i respect ur privacy. D2 lng me just a txt away. Godbless". I did not reply.

After the crazy thoughts. Each of us had a couple of SMB before we called it a night. We need to go to work the next day. One thing I realized that night though, I miss being drunk!

There are those things that you can only do when you have the time in your hand

It was early morning when work was cancelled. There’s no electricity in the apartment so my housemate and I still opted to go to the office hoping that we could finish some last minute work. Ho and behold the electricity in the office was cut too—all because of typhoon Pedring. The wind was howling and our umbrella were not spared from the strong winds. Nowhere to go, we opted to find refuge at the mall. The mall was operated by a generator so some of the stalls were closed, the main mall was like an oven in medium range. We went to all the bookstores we could find and practically spent the whole day in a coffeeshop reading the books we bought.

I been wanting to do this—spent a whole day in a coffeeshop reading a book. Life as they say is a moment. And you get to do this only if you have the time in your hands. After some hours in the coffeeshop, cups of cappucino and americano, I finished the book and felt happy for that one particular, stormy day. Perspective is everything. :-)

Inspirational books--very timely for such a stormy weather.

I had 2 cups. I am starting to love this coffee shop. :-)

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[random thoughts...]

I will be in Bukidnon next week for a 4-day coverage. I hope every thing works well. The 'segment producer' will not be around so I'll have to make amends.

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"Perspective is everything" -- a mantra I choose to chant every morning.

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she fights, like a loyal soldier she does
in minds, in spirit--she fights
sometimes she wins,

in most cases she (just) gives in

never for the lack of will,

never for the lack of hope,

she gives in because she got tired--

tired of waiting.

* someone wrote in my journal, a girl I know in spirit (only)*

Nostalgic

...that was the first word that came to mind. And no amount of diversion can cure the most nostalgic thought while you are at it.

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It is only in writings...

…that you’ll get a piece of my mind and a piece of what I really wanted to say.

But even the most (seemingly) appropriate words seem to fail us when we need them.

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Ethan Marcus

Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away. ~ Maya Angelou

Yesterday, I was at St. Therese to be one of the godparents of my 11th godchild. Both his parents are my friends from the office. His mother was my schoolmate, my orgmate, my cubicle mate and has been a colleague of mine for more than five years now.

As we were attending the christening, two striped butterflies were hovering over us. They made their presence so visible that I was looking at them all the time. One of them would alight at a woman's skirt, at a man's shoulder while the other would hover on someone's head. The two butterflies stayed until the long and winding ceremony ended.

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Loneliness that roams

In front of my pc is a post-it with a quote written on it. I got the quote from a book I borrowed and read some months ago. The quote got me thinking so I wrote it down. This morning, as I was reading it for the nth time, it hit me—the meaning of every word and how it is implicating me.

“There is a loneliness that can be rocked.

Then there is a loneliness that roams. No rocking can hold it down.”

There are people I miss seeing and talking to, but I have no means of doing that. Or I chose not to do anything. I’ll just miss them again and it’s bad going through the same thing everyday. Missing someone and they’re not missing you back. Or telling them that you miss them and they would tell you, “Oh I didn't even notice it was that long time already.”

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This is the 11th day. =(

I miss being in a beach. Or I guess the idea of being in a beach. I am not really a beach person. I like mountains first and foremost. I miss the waves. I miss the splash. And I miss looking at the happy people playing with the waves.

Bring your pain, but never wear it

You give me three cigarettes to smoke my tears away

And I die when you mention her name

Forgive me for stalking you. It wasn’t me that gives the orders. I have left my being the day I met you. What's used to be there is not there anymore. The “person before” is nonchalant and safe. The “person now” is vulnerable and sensitive. She hungers for your whereabouts and your business. In fact, every bit of information (no matter how trivial) bothers the “person now”. So forgive the “person now” for stalking you and for knowing that things that should be kept aside and the things that should be left unsaid.

This morning, I read this French quote from de Scudery: “L'amour fait les plus grandes douceurs et les plus sensibles infortunes de la vie.”

And it hit me like a hardball. It’s true, “Love makes life's sweetest pleasures and worst misfortunes”. Not only that, L'on est bien faible quand on est amoureux. One is very weak when one is in love. But I am not. Or am I?

I want to grow old with you, unfortunately you have someone else in mind

What I am to you is not real

What I am to you, you do not need

What I am to you is not what you mean to me

You give me miles and miles of mountains

And I'll ask for the sea

And I'll ask for the sea

People have this annoying habit of wanting something that they knew they could not have. Always taking it as the “challenge” and they apply this (even) with people —wanting someone so bad they knew they could not have and when the time comes that they’ve been rejected they blame it on fate.

I cannot fight destiny. I cannot fight what was written. All I could do now is to "kill" this hope so that it will not spring again and I could move on with the next chapter of my life.

The more one tries to avoid it, the more that it happens

Just like an old photo glued on the wall, eventually it would peel off no matter how one tries to glue it back. Some things are not meant to be. In the same manner that some things are bound to happen even if you tried hard to avoid it.

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...and then he said to her: "I am not just into you."

He said it so naturally as if he was just commenting about the weather. He said that on her birthday. Choosing between being crushed by a roving truck and being eaten alive right at that moment--proved no difference to her. She died that day.

Standing out

.

It’s hard to stand out in a crowd that is overpowering with wits and beauty. I am (just) a silver ring with no accents that no one would even dare look back. Around me are golds and emeralds.

But hey, thanks for looking back. For a fleeting moment, I felt like I have outshone them.

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And the truth that you'll find will always be the truth you hide

There once were eyes that only saw you
But you never knew.
And the words that you fear will always be
The words you hear.

~ Collective Soul

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[postscript:]

…I asked someone to pinch my arm because I was sleepy. She cautioned me, “Masakit ako mangurot!” I assured her, “Try me. I have high tolerance for pain.” And like a good soldier, she did pinch me. And she fuckin’ pinched me hard.

Sometimes, even though it’s painful, one has to pretend it’s not. That has always been the name of the game. To continue to smile even though a dagger has been lunged into your heart.

just because everything is different doesn't mean anything has changed

Do you think you can find it?

Better than you had it...

~ One Republic

A glimpse of the moon

A few minutes ago, I wrote:
Walking from this narrow, winding path
Cold wind numbing my cheeks
Against the dusky sky, denuded tree
I caught a glimpse of the moon
and amazingly—it looked back.

So why is it that I remember you every time I see the moon?

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I will continue to alight

Last night I wrote:
Dark clouds feed into an innuendo.
A slight shake and everything tears down.
Make or break. That’s how powerful you are.

If and when the time comes that you have to leave because you need to pursue your dreams, I will continue to alight from this wispy, dangerous ground I am standing on. Or I’ll have to forcefully glue myself into it, so as not to break and fall.

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[postscript]

I watched Darren Aronofsky’s The Black Swan. And I have these things to say:

I have always like Natalie Portman since her “Leon: The Professional” days but I like her even more. The Black Swan is one of those “mind fuck” flicks. Yea, I think that is how they call it. It’s a movie that makes you think from the start to the end and it plays with your mind. The movie was set according to the point-of-view of Nina, a girl with a seemingly questionable psyche, hence a slur on reality. Even the ending entices you to think. I have to watch it again.

New year, new shoes

If you had asked me before, I would have disagreed. But just today, I realized how important shoes are. I am speaking figuratively here. And why suddenly I wanted a new pair of shoes, a red one, I do not know. I just resolved myself into thinking that: “New year means new shoes. And it has to be red.” I may have subconsciously inculcated Oki’s urge to have a red shoes. She’s been whining about getting a new pair of red shoes since last year and I must have kept it at the back of my head. But I don’t like those girly shoes. I was never a fan of high-heeled shoes. I just want a comfortable shoes like the loafers or sidewalk surfers type.

I was at the university awhile ago and I noticed how instinctively I was looking down while walking at the hallway to look at the students’ shoes. Most of them have new shoes. Must be their Christmas gifts. There were loads of red shoes! =)

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I am imbibing this mantra (came from a P. Coelho book):

“When you go after what is IMPORTANT for you in life, don’t take NO for an ANSWER!”

I am NOT taking NO for an answer. Aja!

And in the midst of this misty, cold December morning...

…you’ll ask yourself: Am really doing the right thing?

And then a little voice inside you will say: You know it’s right if it feels right and it’s turning you into a better person.

For a moment there, I agreed with that little voice. Usually, we are antagonistic with each other. Always fighting with the DOs and DONTs of life. Always in binary opposition, ending up with a nonstop struggle (which is crazy by the way). It was nice to finally have something to agree with.

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[PS]

the other day, while i was attending a planning workshop in Tagaytay, a message popped from my YM. It was Fish! I have never heard anything from him except for the fact that he now works abroad as a chef. I teased him about being "rich" and enjoying the life abroad and he retorted back something like: "Mayaman ba yung alipin ka dito!" I said, "Well at least you have something to hold on to. I am sure you have a plan." I asked him my classic question (which is all me, by the way): "Are you happy there?" I don't remember him answering my question so I rephrased it: "What drives you? You must have reason why you opted to work there!" There is something about this guy that makes me want to laugh all the time. I don't know if he's serious or not but he really makes laugh (the hard way). He said: "Kailangan ko ng pambili ng ataol!" (nak ng teteng!) I burst into a laugh. Did I mention I was in a middle of a planning workshop? (pretending I was taking notes, but I was actually chatting). Bad me.

Our little chat went on. Mostly about existensialism. How his life working abroad. How I wanted to climb Mount Apo. How he wanted to earn money so he could climb more mountains. Then our topic went back to cooking. I asked his talent fee and told him I wanted to learn how to cook (the totyal way). He said: "Mura lang TF ko. Turuan kita pagbalik ko!" I said: "Pwede na ba pandesal na may kesong puti at sopdrink?" He affirmed. Then we bid goodbye. He said it was 2:30 am in Italy and he said needed to get up early morning the next day.

Waiting shed

I like waiting sheds because people come here to wait. But they are more than that.

Sheds have personalities, those that you can guess just by looking at its structures. How old it is, how well it’s maintained, it’s location, and how many people are actually going for it “to wait”.

I found this wonderful shed when I was in Korea. I was roaming around RDA early in the morning to take photos when the rain started to pour. I found this shed with nothing much except three green seats full of falling leaves on top of it and four wooden benches around the green seats. I was tempted to sit on one of the green seats but I wanted to preserve its actual look, the way I have found it. So instead, I sat on one of the four wood benches around it. The floor was covered with dried leaves, some of them were still fresh and some of them were falling on my head. I looked outside and it was raining hard. Then, all of a sudden, I felt this surge of sadness—the kind that eats you up inside. I don’t usually get that. Mostly it’s the fleeting loneliness, the one that you could get rid of given the proper diversion. This type of sadness was different (or so I thought at that time). I have wished for the rain to stop.

While waiting for the rain to subside, I saw the bespectacled Hyo-jung Lee standing in front of the shed with an umbrella. Smiling, she said to me “What are you doing there, Ms Rayts? Come in the office and we’ll drink coffee.” It was the second time that she saved me. One time, she showed me the way to the biggest bookstore in Suwon. Inside her office, she served me a piping hot mug of coffee. It was my last day in Suwon and I was thinking what to give her as a token. Hyo-jung was a few years older than me and she’s one of the few people I got along with during my one-week stay in Suwon. She has this cute habit of putting her arms in my arms whenever we take our pictures. I gave her a key holder before I left. I saw her put her keys in it. “So that I will always remember you!” she said with a big smile.

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[postscript]

I found the most charming letter. “I love you infinity times infinity much!” Obviously it was not meant for me. But my mind is playing (tricks) with me (again). Could it be that he intentionally did not remove the post-it so that I could see it? Or maybe not. How could I entertain such thought? Still, the possibility is there. God, I wish someone would say that to me. I will love you back (infinity times infinity).

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Went to see Eat Pray Love last night. The night was great. The movie was awful. All throughout the film, I was bothered by Julia Roberts unusually over-sized mouth and her unusually bony face. I am rude. I asked Dax to give me a copy of the book. I asked him to give it as a gift. I was a bit demanding but he owes me big time. Luckily he promised to buy me a copy.

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I love my family. I love my friends. I love my work. I love you. There...i said it!

In the zone

There are things you realized when you are “in the zone”. Unfortunately for me, that particular moment always happens while I am in the comfort room. And it’s funny because I often end up crying afterwards. This frickin' head of mine always works on the double when I am sitting on that throne. It’s just that the moment I sit, flashes of memories came rushing in and by the minute I am in my zone (going back to places but in most cases, creating instances that never even happened). And then with some bizarre maneuvering, a certain memory often comes with a frickin’ soundtrack. What the hell is wrong with me? Like yesterday, I think I cried the whole frickin’ hour inside the comfort room. A memory of a guy flashed before me. At the background was Donny Gerrard singing “For Just a Moment” from the OST of one of my all-time favorite movies from the 80s, St. Elmo’s Fire. Geesuz, why that of all songs. This song has that particular power to "kill me" with despair. Suddenly Kevin Dolenz’s character came to me.

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