A Heartfelt Prayer

Dear Lord,

Thank you for keeping my baby brother safe today. The magnitude of your power and grace never fails to amaze me. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I don't know how else I could express my gratitude.

Amen

Oh my gulay, immersion ko na. This weekend. Sa Tarlac. Panic, panic, panic. Holy crap. Just when I thought this month couldn’t get any worse.

Oh well. At least it would be over and done with early this semester. Plus, it’s a long weekend, so I could rest on the following Monday. *sigh* And I was already planning to get out and have fun that weekend. Well, I am getting out (out of town pa nga e), and I hope I’ll have fun (in the farm), but this is far from what I was expecting.

In other news, I dreamed about Cutie Pie this morning, just before I woke up. We bumped into each other in the gym daw, and we kinda flirted with each other. Tapos while I was in the cross trainer (the gym equipment, not the kind of rubber shoes), I was making pa-sikat and pa-cute. Haha. Pathetic di buh? Well, libre lang ang mangarap. Haha.

Oh my goodness. I remember that I also dreamed I pulled out one of my incisors, the one near my right canine (or should I say, feline fang?), so that my teeth would look maayos na. Talk about taking matters into my own hands. But this is bad luck daw di ba? Oh no. I hope not.

I am so frustrated with my life right now. Things, as usual, are not going as planned. Aargh. It’s a very long and complicated story, and I don’t want to waste time or bytes by writing it in this blog. All I could tell you is that I’m feeling so helpless and frustrated because of how things are turning out. The people who I expected to understand me and the position that I’ve taken have been telling me that I shouldn’t have meddled in other people’s business (even though they know that it’s partly my business too). Meanwhile, the people who I expected to go against me, actually understand and are taking my side. *sigh* This sucks big time.

There’s really no point in discussing it; my friends (those who are on my side) and I have exhausted ourselves from incessantly talking about it for the past two weeks. Aargh. Wala lang. Gusto ko lang maglabas ng sama ng loob. All I can do right now is sigh and move on. Sigh and move on.

Am very sad today. Depressed even. It just sunk in: Cutie Pie is a lost cause. Wala na talaga akong pag-asa sa kanya even if some of the “complications” I was talking about are gone now. Another complication came up and this one is awfully difficult to get over with. There’s this rift (an understatement, believe me) among our mutual friends, and of course, nadamay na rin ako. Actually, I may have been the cause of this rift. No, hindi nila ako pinag-aagawan or something like that. Asa pa ko, ‘di ba? Basta, super grabe ng away na ito. Let’s just say that if I were a Republican, Cutie Pie would be a Democrat. Wait lang, I don’t want to be associated with Bush. I’ll be the Democrat then. But I don’t want Cutie Pie to be associated with Bush either. Hmm…

Oh well. Basta yun. We’ve taken opposing positions in this “battle,” that’s why I don’t think I’ll be seeing my obsession anytime soon. Actually, Cutie Pie insists na neutral sya. Agree sya sa point ng side ko, pero disagree sya sa action that we’ve taken. Ayaw nya kami tulungan, kahit alam nya na tama kami.

So I guess this means that I’d be following my manifesto from now on. *sigh* Depression.

[It may not seem to be a big deal for you, but it is for the people involved, or who are getting themselves involved, in this matter. And this is the kind of difference of opinion that’s very very hard to come to terms with, even after the matter is already settled. Gets nyo ba? Ah basta. It’s nothing really. Unlike me, you shouldn’t lose sleep over this.]

*gush* I saw my crush again last Saturday night. Gahd, super duper (mega over) cute. Can you see the stars coming out my eyes? *swoon*

*sigh* But it’s not really meant to be. Meron na syang iba… *sob* But that’s all right. Cute pa rin sya. Kelan ko kaya sya makikita ule? Hmm… *sigh* So much for my manifesto, huh? But, no, I’m not taking those back yet.

You might be wondering why I saw Cutie Pie last Saturday night. Well, there was a party somewhere in Timog and we were together… along with half a dozen of our friends. I had a so much fun that night, but I did some really stupid things as well. Sher, Raissa’s officemate, introduced me to someone (you do get the implication of being “introduced,” right?). Unfortunately, I was clueless as to what to do when situations like that arise, and my flirting mechanisms (if I ever had any) are rusty already. Needless to say, I totally messed up. When they told us to go to the dance floor, I said “Mamaya na, hindi pa ako lasing.” How foot-in-mouth disease is that? Anyway, we just stood there, not meeting each other’s eyes… nagkahiyaan! And when the music stopped playing, I went back to my table and didn’t invite Sher’s friend to sit with us. How impolite could I get? Gahd, one wrong move too many.

Anyway, later that night, I asked Raissa to tell me what to do next time somebody is introduced to me. Kung may next time pa. If it’s any consolation, I got one thing right: nung nagtanong sya about my age, tinanong ko rin sya. O ‘di ba? Our lame attempt to make small talk. Oh well. But to my defense, it was just too awkward, and I was just too shy and too stupid. Sher did tell me before that she would make me pakilala to someone (“Cute, Pau!”), but I didn’t expect it to be that soon! I also didn’t expect that person to be in the table next to ours! Oh well. Excuses, excuses. I hope we could see each other again so that I could redeem myself. If Sher would let me near her friend again, that is. I could be so bobo sometimes. Pasensya na, my brain doesn’t seem to be working properly these days.

Manifesto

That’s it. Last sem break, I realized that I’ve had enough. I’m swearing off guys (and girls)… for the time being. Why? Guys, for all their stupidity, are such complex and dense creatures that I’m tired of analyzing already. Girls, on the other hand, are forbidden fruits. They’re not quite right, yet I’m really tempted to take a bite. Well, I already had taken a bite, and although it tasted sour and bittersweet, I’m still willing to take another one. But just not now. For the nth time, I’m going to tell myself to focus on my academics. After all, it is my last semester. Not that I’m running for honors or something like that (asa pa ko!), but let’s just say that this is my huling hirit at being a “good” student.

Although, there is one person who could make me take these all back, but he’s out of reach. Our little affair ended so long ago, yet I still yearn for him. He doesn’t know that I still have feelings for him, though, because he thinks that I have already given him up and moved on. Oh, well. Johnny Depp, my darling, you’ll always be in my heart. Bear in mind that I have forgiven you when you left me for those Hollywood floozies and bimbos and airheads. You’re more than welcome to come back to me. I’ll be waiting with open arms. *sigh*

Haha. Do forgive me. That was the obsessed fan in me talking. But really, maybe somebody might come along and make me take these all back. However, considering the state of my lovelife nowadays, I highly doubt that.

an attempt at poetry

I wrote this poem a few years back, either during my senior year in high school or the summer before I entered college. It kind of left my mind some time later, until I found it again among piles of old notebooks and other junk while I was cleaning out my dorm. It’s a juvenile attempt at poetry, seeing that I really tried to make the words rhyme and was strict with the number of syllables per line. I did fix a few lines while I was typing it, so it’s not really the original thing. Without further ado –

Awakening

The moon had long traveled
The clear night sky, and soon
The golden sun shall rise
In the east horizon.

But here I am, awake
Tossing, turning in bed.
Sleep, elusive tonight,
So sleep I try to fake.

Happy scenes play in my mind –
Two of us talking, laughing,
Remembering how we walked
In that magical evening.

How could I have been deaf
To my heart beating your name?
Was I asleep when Cupid
Breathed love into my spirit?

I guess I was deaf and asleep.
But now my ears hear clearly
And sleep has long fled my eyes.
When clear as daylight I saw love.

Oh the pain I now feel
Not knowing what to do
I see I do love you
But I have lost you forever.

Funny how prophetic this poem would become. I do know that while I was writing this a few years ago, I wasn’t exactly feeling the “emotions” I was describing. In fact, I was just feeling a teensy bit romantic and daydreaming about the future. Well, Pau, no need to daydream now. It’s happening right now, right there inside you.

*sigh* Sometimes, people just make the most stupid mistakes that they would regret for the rest of their lives. Then they realize that regretting would only make their lives more miserable, but they just can’t seem to stop thinking about it. I, for one, cannot forgive myself for that big mistake I’ve made. Other people could be lucky, though; they could still fix whatever mess they’ve made. But in my case, it’s hopeless. And I’m slowly sinking into the pits of despair.

But on the bright side, if I continue to be as miserable, maybe I could write better poems. Stories, even. Who knows, I might just get a Palanca Award or a Nobel Prize. Or maybe not.

Sing with me now. I’ll just keep on dreaming/`Til my heartaches end...

i'm baaaaaaack!!!

Our semestral break is about to end and I’m back in dorm here in Katipunan, back in dirty polluted Metro Manila. Sucks, I know, but in the pursuit of higher learning and wisdom, one must make sacrifices. Yeah. Whatever.

Anyway, updates, updates, updates. I just found out the two worst things that could happen to you when going to the beach. The first is accidentally leaving your towel at home. The second is getting horrendously sick while in tropical paradise. You don’t have to be a rocket scientist to guess that both happened to me when I went to Boracay last weekend. But I still had fun, though. I mean, I was in the beach. What more could a water baby like me ask for?

Nanay told me about the first time they took me to the sea. It was in Subic, and I was still a toddler then. I was really scared at first, but I eventually got used to the water. I enjoyed it so much that, if my mother is to be believed, she had to pretend she was bitten by a crab to get me out of the water.

Anyway, I just realized that I half hate and half love Boracay. It’s an amazingly beautiful island, and I’m not saying that just because I’m from Aklan. I’m really proud of my province, unlike some people out there, considering they were born and bred in that province. I was born in Manila, spent my childhood in Manila, am back in Manila to study, but Kalibo holds my heart. The pretentious ones out there seem to turn their back to their beloved hometown because they want to be bona fide Manileños and Manileñas. They try to be oh so cool and oh so hip and oh so urbane, but believe me, beneath all their designer clothes and haughty looks, there lurks the insecure promdi. Oooh, you’d say. Pau is being bitter and envious again. So what else is new? But I digress.

I love Boracay for all its beauty, but it is gradually becoming commercial. “Own a piece of paradise!” invites one of the flyers of a real estate agency selling land in the interior of the island. And I heard that some big-shot oil company is planning to put up a gas station there. It would bring profit, more jobs, and a plethora of other benefits, I know. I’ve nothing against progress, but the existence of a gas station would encourage people to bring in more cars, tricycles, trucks, etc. More vehicles, more pollution. Beach paradise and capitalism just don’t go together.

I love Boracay during the day, when the sun is warming the white sand and blue waters. When kids are splashing in the water and couples are walking by the beach. When the soft sea breeze comes and all your worries just seem to float away (except when I found out that Cabral will fail me in Calculus. I was talking to him over the phone, asking him to please lower the cut off mark again so that I could get a D instead. He showed no mercy.) But when the sun sets, a different set of people roam the streets. Boracay is a great party place, but I hate seeing sunburned foreigners guzzling beer and getting very intimate with a scantily clad native woman who obviously is just a pampalipas-oras, if you get what I mean. I don’t know, but it strikes me as vulgar and obscene. I feel raped, abused, taken advantaged of, even if it’s not really my neck that’s being wrapped around with a big hairy arm.

Denden pointed out over lunch that there is flesh trade here in Manila, and sometimes it’s even worse. But I haven’t seen anyone plying her (or his) trade here yet, and I intend to keep it that way. Besides, Boracay is my paradise and I want it unsullied by the evils of our society.

Anyway, lest I get carried away, another update. Our much-awaited high school yearbook is out! After waiting for more than three years, our batch could finally get a copy of this important memento of our stay in Pisay. Was it worth the wait? I really can’t answer that because I’m a part of the yearbook committee myself so I’d be biased. I did see a few errors here and there, but it is nevertheless nice and well-written (ahem ahem. Hehe, just kidding!) I especially liked the layout of the pages containing the messages from the various VIPs (Pres Arroyo, our directress, our academic head, et al). Unlike in the ordinary yearbooks, the pictures of these VIPs were large and unencumbered by frames or borders. Maybe I’m huli sa uso but it’s a new and innovative layout, and I really like it. I wonder who “invented” this new way.

I hope I haven’t bored you yet. Actually, I still have another thing to tell you, but I think I kinda got carried away with putting my thoughts into writing that this entry got longer than what I had expected. I guess I have plenty in my mind. Oh well. Until next time.

heehee... i can't tell you much about it... any more than what i posted here would make it so obvious... don't want to get caught. too complicated. hehe. gahd... pero cutie pie talaga... hehe. hmm... wallpaper ko sya ngayon sa pc ko. o d ba? so everytime i turn it on, good mood agad ako. *sigh* kahit lost cause, obsessed pa rin ako sa kanya. jeez... i'm such an idiot... but i'm loving it... :D

anyway, today was an incredibly bad day. the world hates me and i'm hating it back. the people (yung mga kilala ko naman) i meet along the way take one look at me then ask "okay ka lang?" am i that transparent? grr... i'm feeling better now, it think. probably because i logged in to friendster and checked out cutie pie's profile. *sigh* makita ko lang sya, sobrang okay na ako. eeep... obsessed stalker na ba? give me a week or so then the fact na lost cause sya will sink in, and i'll probably be miserable again. hehe.

*sigh* be going back to reality in a few moments. good luck sa ating lahat sa exams!!! :D

Disclaimer: I’m not going to rant or gripe in this post. But don’t go cheering yet. I’m going to gush. I’m going to gush like an infatuated high school girl with mush for her brain and hearts coming out her eyes. I’m not even going to bother with italics and punctuations and grammar and whatever. You might as well skip this. But then again, don’t. This is a different side of me. Ready? Good luck.

Ohmigosh ohmigosh ohmigosh! *squeal* Ang cutie nya! Ang cutie nya! Ang cutie nya! I swear, ang cutie cutie cutie nya talaga! Ang ganda, as in super ganda ng mata nya! Tapos kapag ngumiti… *sigh* Cutie pie talaga!

I really can’t go into too many details, pero eto na lang. Kabarkada sya ng girlfriend ng friend ko. We’ve met a few times before, pero nakasama ko sya just recently nung pumunta kami sa isang bar (hindi ito gay bar ha? Kadiri ka). Syempre may inuman… then sayawan… *squeal* I swear, ang cutie nya talaga. *kilig kilig* Dapat siguro nagpakalasing pa ako para may excuse ako na gapangin sya. Haha, sayang. ;P

But then again, lost cause na naman to. Although single (and ready to go!) sya, may iba syang gusto, tapos medyo complicated yung mga connections namin. *sigh* But I don’t care. Cutie pa rin sya, so worth the risks (sort of…). Yehey, I have a new obsession. Lol.

On a serious (?!?!) note, Andie, Lorie, or anyone out there, I don’t care if you bash this blog because of this post. I’m still in cloud nine so it would take a lot more than stinging comments to pull me back to earth. I wish I could show you a picture (wala pa nga akong picture nya e. hmph) so you could understand why I’m having these kilig attacks. *sigh* I wonder when we’ll see each other again. Can somebody please wipe off this idiotic grin off my face? Lol.

Haha. Amazing. I got a B in the Philo orals I’ve been dreading for days. I really didn’t prepare much for this, unlike my oral exams last year. Heck, I didn’t even finish the chapter! Well, I did have reliable notes because I was rarely absent (but always late. Lol) while we were discussing the topic for this exam. And what was even more amazing was that I felt calm after my exam. Granted, I was panicking before my time slot, but when I got out of the room, I was actually satisfied with what I said. Maybe because I didn’t really study, as in todo study so I didn’t expect too much from myself. I think I actually forgot about it until this morning when I remembered that our grades would already be in my teacher’s pigeonhole today. And lo and behold, 3.0. Well, my grade is a B if I got the date and time correct. Whatever. As long as it’s not an F I’m happy.

In other news, I had a weird dream last night. I couldn’t remember all the details already, but I do know that my recent ex was there, and we were doing something… private. No, we weren’t having sex, pervert. If we were, I would’ve remembered all the naughty little details and kept it to myself. Anyway, in my dream, we were doing what any normal (normal?) couple would do when alone together. It’s weird because this dream proves that she’s still in my mind even though I should be forgetting about that screwed-up relationship already. *sigh* Sick sad world.

Anyway, Angie and I were talking last night and we came upon a very appropriate chapter in my life: Lost Cause. Or should I say The Lost Causes. Seems like all my romantic prospects are exactly that: a lost hopeless cause. Starbucks Guy, no matter how cute he is or how hard I make pa-cute, will always be gay. The other guy who’s been bugging me lately is kinda cute, but he’s probably shorter than I am (it’s a big deal for me). I have a crush on an orgmate (Abie, Butch, Jops, shh!!!), but I heard a lot of girls have a crush on him too so I’ve lost interest already. And countless other crushes that, if I decide to pursue any one of them, would either complicate our lives or crush my already beat-up ego. So there.

I guess the world is just telling me that I shouldn’t be thinking about romance at this point in my life and that I should focus on my academics instead. After all, final exams week is just around the corner (so is Christmas, by the way. Have you seen my Christmas lists already? *hint hint!* Haha, just kidding.). But then this is the nth time I told myself this and my academic life isn’t flourishing yet. Probably because my focus is as blurred as my eyesight. Whatever.

Dear Starbucks Gay Guy,

Ohmigosh, you’re gay. I knew it. You were just too good to be true anyway. You are another proof to my “motto:” all the good men are either taken or gay (or both. Ouch!). On second thought, I don’t even know you that well, so why am I already assuming that you belong to the “good men” category? But you’re so gwapo and that’s good enough for me. I swear, you have the most amazing profile I ever saw. It was love at first sight. Well, only on my part since I was the only one looking at you. You were too engrossed with your book (hardbound international edition no less) to notice me staring at you longingly from the other side of the glass partition in Starbucks.

Why are you gay? It’s not as if there’s not enough women in the girls. With your looks, you could have more than your fair share of girls.

But then again, are you really gay? My friends tell me that they saw you holding hands with a girl. But I did see you making those gay movements with your hands, and did hear you say “you go, girl!” to one of your friends. What the hell was that? Straight guys absolutely do not use “girl” to address girls. My friends also tell me that I’m just jealous of that girl you held hands with so I’m insisting that you’re gay. But, hel-lo! I’d rather you be straight with a girlfriend than available but gay. ‘Di ba? ‘Di ba?

So ano ka ba talaga? It’s a mystery I’m too scared to solve. Maybe I should just ask you, but that would be a lose-lose situation. If you say yes, my world would be completely shattered. But if your answer is no, then you would really be offended that I even thought you gay. So where does that leave me? In a limbo. In gray areas. Or should I say in gay areas? *sigh*

Oh well. That’s life. I just hope that you’re happy with whatever sexual orientation you have.

Lovingly yours,
Starbucks Gay Girl

[Who’s Starbucks Gay Guy? He’s this guy I often see in Starbucks Katipunan (Duh. Isn’t it obvious?). He’s from UP, and I do know his name, but for my dignity’s sake, I won’t mention it here. He was crush for almost a week (as in I always go to Starbucks every night even if I don’t need to study or anything) until I saw him making those gay movements I mentioned earlier. After that, I happened to eavesdrop into one of his conversations with his friends and the way he talks is undeniably gay. He’s still my crush though, but no, it’s not because two homos having a relationship could be considered normal. Gahd, that’s so gross. Anyway, it’s because he’s an eye candy despite his being gay. He’s still nice to look at, especially when he’s studying or contemplating about whatever while smoking. I just don’t look at him while he’s talking with his friends. That’s when he transforms from a charming cutie into a *sob!* gay cutie. Gosh, I wonder what would happen if he reads my blog. Nah. Asa pa ko, ‘di ba? But if by some weird coincidence he chances across this, I hope he answers my question so my mind would be put to rest.]

Two weeks left before finals and I’m still blogging. So much for being in the final stretch.

I had a report this evening, and my partner and I basically just crammed everything. And we were just reading aloud instead of actually reporting. And I actually got bored with the mere sound of my voice. And you know what the teacher said? “Very good.” “Interesting report.” And she wasn’t being sarcastic. Whoa. What the hell was that?

This adds proof to my theory that I get better results when I’m not prepared than when I actually studied and worked hard. Maybe I should just be a bum for the remaining three weeks of the semester and hope that I get A’s for all my finals. But then I’ll be too unprepared so I’ll probably flunk everything. Oh well. Bahala na.

quiz quiz quiz

website courtesy of andie :P

I am

I am selfish. I am self-absorbed. I am self-involved. I am self-deprecating. I am an embarrassment.

I am an ice queen with a heart of stone. I am uncaring. I am unfeeling. I am unforgiving. I am unforgetting. I am unthinking. I am inconsiderate. I am inconsistent. I am discontented. I am negative.

I am immature. I am vindictive. I am resentful. I am bitter. I am mean. I am judgmental.

I am balat-sibuyas. I am moody. I am ill tempered. I am angst-filled.

I am bitchy. I am slutty. I am perverted. I am clumsy. I am lazy. I am crazy.

I am stubborn. I am assuming. I am masochistic. I am proud. I am papansin. I am pretentious. I am nagging. I am a spendthrift. I am compulsive.

I am pathetic. I am weird. I am mediocre. I am never good enough.

I am flawed. I am human.

Moro and More

Abie and I went to Moro Lorenzo (Ateneo’s very own fitness gym) a couple of nights ago. Since we were both newbies, the training wasn’t really that intensive, but, boy, was I really worn out. I guess “absolutely exhausted” was written all over my face because barely halfway through it, Abie was already asking me if I was still all right. Goodness, I almost fainted then and there. Abie was also asking me if I regretted enrolling to a gym. I mean, I was actually paying a hefty sum to those psychos disguised as gym instructors to torture me! But no, I’m not regretting anything. Well, I do regret looking like a complete idiot with my tongue lolling out, but in a few months, I’ll be a very fit, very trim-looking idiot in a two-piece swimsuit nursing a piña colada in Boracay with a dozen or so hunks flocking around me. Hah! Take that!

Okay, I may have gone overboard with that (Asa pa ako, ‘di ba?). But really, I don’t mind the pain (I’m a masochist, remember?) but what I really can’t stand is the pagod. I tire easily as a result of 19 years of inactive and bum-like existence. Oh well. Maybe I should’ve joined a sport when I was a kid, or played patintero and habulan instead of Barbie dolls and lutu-lutuan. But looking back, I was this excruciatingly shy lampayatot who was always the saling-pusa (thus explaining my fondness, nay, obsession with cats) in every game, so you can’t exactly expect me to excel in sports. (Whoa, five, yep, count ‘em, five “ex-“ words in that sentence. Amazing. So what’s your point, Pau? *sardonic laugh*) Anyway, this is what I’m really regretting: trying to start being active so late in life. By late, I don’t mean my age (heck, I’m still young!), but late as in too late in changing my unhealthy habits and lifestyle. *sigh* I’m not even sure if I could follow thorough this gym ritual.

Hmm… Maybe I should also try eating healthier food. But where in Katipunan could I get inexpensive health food? The type that actually tastes like food and not cardboard. Oh well. Here’s to a healthier, more active life.

In other news, I have a new crush. Well, it’s not exactly new. I’ve been toying with this idea for a month or so already. But anyway, this guy and I know are quite close (Yes, it’s a guy. Some people might just bludgeon me to death if I talk about girls. Haha.). He’s far from being my ideal guy, but I can live with that. Beggars can’t be choosers, ya know? The problem is, I’m not his type. He likes drop-dead gorgeous girls, the kind who makes us wonder what happened to equality in this universe, and I’m definitely not like that.

I can’t blame him, though. Hell, if I were a guy, I’d also set my sights high. But I’m a girl, so I’m destined to wait until a guy makes the first move. And as much as I’d want to take matters into my own hands, I’d rather not. I don’t want to lose our “friendship,” not to mention my dignity. So much for my new prospect.

Goodness, this is just so sad. Three weeks left in this semester and I’m talking about gym and a guy. I have to get my head checked.

No, Andie, this entry is not specifically tailored for you to bash. I am really writing about my experiences here. Besides, I doubt that she ever needs to enroll in a gym. She probably has her own gym at home. And I also doubt that she ever has a problem getting any guy she wants. What do they see in her anyway? I swear, men are from an entirely different galaxy. As for the “punching blog” I told you about, maybe after the second sem, eh? I promise I’ll try to really get on your nerves. :p

I feel miserable. Unfortunately for you, dear readers, I also feel incoherent. I’m hoping that I would sound better towards the end of this piece. Here goes.

I often wonder why I am stubborn as hell. My parents would often tell me that my younger sister Nadya (who is turning 10 this October) and I react differently when they scold us. Nadya, being the malambing one, would cry for a while then proceed to sweet talk and embrace the angry parent. I, on the other hand, would hold back my tears as long as I could, sulk, and then give them the silent treatment. Only during the night, when everybody is already asleep, would I let myself cry. Thus, for Nadya, everything would be forgotten after a kiss or two. For me, however, my initial offense would be further aggravated by my unrelenting stubbornness. *sigh*

I guess I should be thankful for this trait, which could also be translated into doggedness (by the way, why is there no “cattedness?”), perseverance and determination. I mean, at least I know I won’t be a pushover, right? And I never give up easily. If I gave up on something, it means that it really is hopeless, or I’m already tired because I’ve done everything.

But I wish it had a switch, or a dial if you will, so that I can turn it on, off, high or low, as the need arises. Sometimes, I really feel that my stubbornness is causing me more grief than I could handle. I mean, there are things which I should be giving up already, but my stubborn side adamantly refuses to do so. I know I should be forgetting all my hang-ups and issues, but I just can’t. My mind knows that letting go is the right thing to do, but my heart keeps holding on. They’re two separate entities, my mind and my heart. They’re going in two different directions and it’s really tearing me apart. Proof? See my previous rant-fests and pathetic attempts at poetry. Maybe I should change the name of this blog into “misery.” Yuck, reminds me of this teeny-bopper pop boy band (said with all the disgust I could muster). “Miserable” na lang. Then I’ll post the lyrics of the song “Miserable” by Lit. Whatever.

Aargh! Can somebody please help me? Everybody has been telling me that it’s enough already, but can somebody actually teach me to let go? *sigh* Who would have thought that a mere infatuation could turn into a major heartache?

Living in a Ma-material World

I really want to write about this kid who is so materialistic. I swear, all this person ever thinks about is buying this and getting that. It’s as if this person is living in a fuzzy little world filled with stuff (words courtesy of Lorie). But I really couldn’t get into the grisly details, hell, I can’t even tell you if it’s a he or a she. This person might read this, get totally mad and wreak havoc in my life. It’s not that I care about other people’s opinion of me, but I’m in a lot of people’s hate list right now, and I’m not liking it. Again, I really don’t care if they talk behind my back, shred my reputation to pieces or give me the silent treatment. I’ll just laugh at their smug little faces, being the cold-hearted bitch that I am. But then, I am also a friendly user, and more people hating me would mean less I could ask favors from. Who knows, maybe in the future I could use Material Kid’s connections to get a job, a husband or whatever. Plus, I believe in karma.

But I digress. As I was saying (or griping), can Material Kid be any more materialistic? It makes me wonder, if half of the kids out there are as shallow as Material Kid, what would happen to our country? Will they ever pause to think about the poor children out in the streets selling sampaguitas, cigarettes, hell, maybe even their bodies? I mean, a bottle of Material Kid’s designer cologne probably could feed a family in Payatas for a week.

No, I’m not asking them to sell all their belongings and give the money to charity, or abandon their families to live among the vagrants. What I want is for them to stop being so self-absorbed and show even the faintest glimmer of concern for people who have lesser means. And I don’t mean donating for appearance’s sake, or because it seems to be the “in” thing to do. I want the genuine concern, the kind that really springs from the heart. Kusang-loob at taos-puso.

I admit that I am very self-centered. I could be as self-absorbed and shallow. I spend too much money whenever I’m in Starbucks or in the mall. I take the taxi even if I could take the jeep and MRT. But to my defense, I am very much concerned about the less fortunate, especially the children who do not deserve to be in the streets. I would always wonder why God would let these people suffer. And then I would think that I shouldn’t be blaming God, I should be blaming the rich people who has the power to help but remain unmoved by the abject poverty in our country. I should be blaming the rich who have more than what they need but want more. I should be blaming the rich who are becoming richer at the expense of the poor.

And then I realized that I shouldn’t be blaming anyone at all. That we should stop this finger-pointing and actually do something for our country. That we should start being concerned about others, because only genuine service to others can really give us fulfillment in our lives.

Oh my goodness, I have to stop this. I’m becoming more serious by the minute. See, Andi, you jinxed it. Oh well. I guess I really did learn something from Philosophy and Developmental Economics. And of course, St. Ignatius.

Anyway, back to Material Kid. Maybe I just don’t think that they deserve all that wealth. Maybe I’ve seen too much suffering in our country. Maybe I believe in Marx and Lenin when they advocated socialism.

Nah. I probably was only jealous.

Sometimes I wonder what would have been had I stuck it out in BS Math (BS by the way stands for bullshit). Don’t get me wrong, AB Economics is a fine course. I swear I learn new things everyday. But then in Eco, I really need to be constantly updated with what’s happening in the world, or with the Philippines at the very least. Not just with what’s currently happening, but with what has happened in the past as well. And knowing the helplessly oblivious self-centered freak that I am, that’s a tall order for me. Being a Math major would’ve been perfect for me – no need to stay in touch with the rest of the world, nothing but proving, solving and more proving. On second thought, knowing how illogical and irrational I could get (not to mention lazy), Math doesn’t seem to be the perfect course for me after all. Besides, I can’t exactly be oblivious to my immediate surroundings, and the aforementioned surroundings during my short stint as a Math major wasn’t exactly conducive to my survival.

Still there? You bored yet? I thought so too.

In other news, yesterday (9/14) was Athena’s birthday. Belated happy birthday, dear! *hug!* Haha. As if she’ll ever get across this blog.

Anyway, I was pleasantly surprised when a couple of people posted their comments. As I’ve said in my previous entries, I was beginning to think that no one, except perhaps the people I forced to, was actually reading this uber-pink blog. And here are two people telling me (and the rest of the world connected to the Web) that they do like my entries. Aww, shucks… *blushes* Thanks, hyannah and anonymous person (whoever you are). I’m so touched. So this is how it feels to get fan mail. *swoon* Haha, I’m just kidding. But really, thanks, guys. It’s nice to get words of encouragement once in a while. Jaja, thanks for dropping by. Andi, don’t jinx it, don’t jinx it! I might actually stop being miserable that I won’t be able to find anything to write about.

45 painful things

01. flashing your smile to someone you don't want to see
02. bringing back the feeling you've learned to forget
03. showing that you care
04. finding a way to mend a broken heart
05. learning that you've been used by someone you truly love
06. saying i love you when you mean it and when you don't
07. letting go of a person you've just learned to love
08. realizing that you love somebody you've just taken for granted
09. realizing that you love the person you've just broken up with
10. waiting for promises you know she or he'll never keep
11. saying your love for someone who loves somebody else
12. reminiscing the good times u shared together
13. shielding your heart to love somebody
14. trying to hide what you really feel
15. having a commitment w/ someone that you know would not last
16. trying to hide the tears that voluntarily fall from your eyes
17. sharing the one you love w/ someone else
18. loving a person too much
19. giving up someone you never thought of giving up
20. falling in love for the first time
21. loving someone you haven't seen
22. having the right love at the wrong time
23. exerting effort to make the relationship last or work
24. not being appreciated when you know you've given your best
25. taking the risk to fall in love again
26. hiding your relationship from someone else
27. controlling your feelings to avoid hurting a friend
28. choosing between two persons whom you really love
29. finding out that you can never have the person you just let go of
30. seeing the person you love with someone else
31. learning that the person who claimed to have loved you so much never really cared
32. seeing the one you love fall for someone else
33. falling for your best friend and knowing that things can never be the same again
34. learning to trust after you have been betrayed
35. accepting that it was not meant to be
36. smiling when all you want to do is cry
37. falling and knowing that it can never be
38. not being able to love the person who truly cares for you
39. saying that you can never love a person the way he loves you
40. hearing that he can never love you the way that you love him
41. saying that you are over someone you still love
42. being friends again and learning to let go of each other coz you both know it is better that way
43. convincing oneself that you are not in love when you know that you are
44. having to let go because you know that he deserves someone else
45. trying not to remember how perfect everything used to be

|||||

wow... spamming reinvented. i know this is worthless, but then again, my blog is worthless anyway, so why be so particular? aargh... this is nonsense.

wala lang. grabe, can relate talaga ako sa 45 things na ito. bato bato sa langit, ang tamaan, masasaktan.

angst-xiety

please stop breaking my heart.
please stop tormenting my thoughts.
please stop doing this to me.
please stop making me yearn for what I cannot have.
please stop making me love you more each day.

but how can you?
it’s like asking you to stop being yourself.

ah me! the folly of unrequited love. my heart bleeds.

i ache. i yearn. i long. i hope.
infinitely. tirelessly. silently.
yet for how much longer.
how much longer.

it’s a question i ask myself everyday.
and everyday i tell myself.

please stop letting him break your heart.
please stop thinking about him.
please stop doing this to yourself.
please stop yearning.
please stop loving.
please stop.

it’s not worth the pain.
it’s not worth the tears.
it’s not worth the wait.
not worth anything at all.

but I do not heed myself.
my heart still bleeds.

|||||

hahaha! please bear with my pathetic attempts at poetry. *sigh* the things i write when i'm miserable. :P

Christmas Lists

Christmas Wish List
(Christmas is but four months away, and it’s never too early to make a list!)
1. Peace on earth
2. Latin honors upon graduation
3. iPod (or any cool mp3 player)
4. Zire (or any cool personal digital assistant)
5. Laptop
6. The love of my life (the one who got away)

Let me clarify some things here. This is my wish list. In my world, wish is very different from want or need. Ponder for a minute on the statement “Wish ko lang!” in the StressTabs commercial, and the phrase “wishful thinking.” So the list above contains the things I fervently wish I have, but I’m 100% sure (redundant, yes, but I’m making a point here.) that they’re impossible to get. So why bother making this list of impossibles? Wala lang. It makes me feel a little bit better. Hopefully, my desire for these things would fade away after seeing them written down. Hopefully.

Actually, I also wanted to write down “trim and toned body with no stretchmarks” and “fair, milky complexion” pero huwag na lang. Not only would I be a selfish brat, I’d also be a vain one. Both of which are true, but let’s not rub that in. I want Santa to put me in his good boys and girls list. So there. Besides, they’re not really impossible to get. I just need patience and endurance to exercise and apply those whitening lotions. And money. Lots and lots of money. Are you reading this, Santa Claus?

Christmas want/need list
1. Laser printer (my pc is so lonely already)
2. New set of wardrobe (skirts, tops, pants, hell, even underwear!)
3. VCD/DVD’s of my favorite movies
4. Books (I’m trying to start a collection. Trying.)
5. Inuman all night long
6. High school yearbook (my high school batchmates would agree with me)

No, I’m not hinting at anyone to buy me these things. Although if you suddenly wanted to do me a favor and take me shopping, then by all means, do so. But really, no pressure here. As I said earlier, I’m hoping that every time I see these lists, my selfish desires would gradually subside. Here’s to a happy and meaningful Christmas season.

Some Random Things (Just so I can update this blog)

Lorie sent me a message a couple of days ago. Apparently, she read my gripe-filled post and liked it. Here’s how our text convo went.

Lorie: Hey, I read your rantfest and I liked it. Really. But I won’t bean you on the head with a baseball bat. I’ll just dunk your head in coffee. Or liquid prozac.
Me: (exclaiming aloud *How else can you exclaim?*) You liked it?! (in text) you really liked it? Are you serious? Or are you just doing a reverse psych on me?
Lorie: Sincere ako ya (I’m sincere). You’re funny when you’re miserable.
Me: Yeah. More coherent, too. Hey, can I call you?
Lorie: Karon lang when I get home (Call me later when I’m home). I’m still in school. I was hoping you’d call.
Me: OK. Just miss call me when you get home.

This was during the afternoon. She pseudo-called me at around 6pm. I call it pseudo-call because you let the other party’s phone ring but hang up before she answers, so it’s not really a call. (On second thought, you could just be a loser stalking your crush. But moving on…) Besides, “miss call” is so incorrect. Anyway, I only got to call her later in the evening, and only after getting another pseudo-call from her. So we talked for almost two hours. We would have talked longer if it weren’t for her 9am class the next day. And my mother would kill me once she sees my bill. The Inquistion would go like this:

Nanay : Why did you call Lorie? What was so important that you have to call her three times in succession?
Me: We were just catching up. I just needed someone to talk to.
Nanay: But why didn’t you just call us?

As if! Like they would understand. Like they would even listen to me. Anyway, at this point, I would shrug my shoulders and hopefully Nanay would drop it. Maybe I should just tell them I was doing that (exceeding my line’s credit limit by calling and sending messages to everyone except my parents) so that they won’t renew my line and switch me to prepaid instead. After all, I would reason, we already have three lines in the house. They could call me anytime they want. But of course they wouldn’t do that to their beloved elder daughter.

Then again, with the impending financial crisis, who knows? Three org mates of mine, who shall remain nameless, pooled their baon for the day and shared two plates of bibingka (yes, they sell bibingka, even palitaw, kwek-kwek and puto bumbong in the caf) costing a grand total of P70. One of them said, “Ang hirap na talaga ng Pilipinas. Atenista na tayo n’yan ha?” Imagine how the families in the lower classes are living now. And I’m not trying to be an elitist or conio here.

But, I digress. Back to Lorie. I was really surprised that she liked my gripe-filled post. I thought that she wouldn’t read further upon seeing the disclaimer. Actually, that disclaimer was really intended for her, because I know how she would sometimes hate hearing me rant and gripe.

Anyway, it seems that only Lorie and Andrea are actually reading this blog regualrly. Or at least brave (or bored. Is this the case, Andie?) enough to comment. Nobody reads my posts. Nobody wuvs me. *sob!* Or maybe the stuff I write is too boring. Oh well. As the 3D text in my screensaver says, life sucks.

In other news, I bought Stephen King’s Carrie the other day. I haven’t read it yet though, because I lent it to Angela. Also, Arlene lent me her Anne Rice’s Vampire Chronicles (Volume 1) and I wanted to finish it first. If I like both authors, I probably would start collecting their books.

Actually, a few years ago (man, saying that makes me feel so old), I wanted to start a Sidney Sheldon collection. I wanted to collect the earlier editions but they’re difficult to find. What the NBS have in stock are the new editions which have pictures of women in various costumes and poses. Looks sexist for me. Then I realized that Sheldon’s books have the same structure and twist so I gave it up. Besides, I already read them all so why bother? (Michael Gialogo lost my copy of “If Tomorrow Comes.” If you see him, please tell him to buy me another copy. I really love that book. And if he feigns innocence, tell him that I believe in karma and hope he turns into a bookmark in his next life.)

Here are the new things I learned for the past two weeks:
1. in BPI, gold cardholders do not have to maintain a minimum balance,
2. Lenin applied and deepened Marx’s theories of socialism,
3. wma files are smaller than mp3 files, but mp3s have better quality than wma, and
4. Cindy Kurleto looks absolutely divine as my desktop’s wallpaper.

How random. Anyway, I’d like to end this post with a quote which really inspired me. I only hope that I came across this sooner so that I could have written it in my profile for my college yearbook.

"Faith is not knowledge of what the mystery of the universe is, but the conviction that there is a mystery, and it is greater than us." – Rabbi David Wolpe, Making Loss Matter

*sigh* sorry that was all gripe gripe gripe. i had an incredibly bad day when i wrote that.my hell week is coming up! nyargh! run for your lives!!!!

Disclaimer: If you hate to hear/read me griping, do yourself a favor and move away from this post. Don’t give me the pleasure of giving you a headache.

I’m so f*cking depressed that I could feel all the violence fighting to get out of me. I want to hurt something, or even someone. I want to inflict the worst pain possible and with utmost glee. And with my bare hands. I don’t care if they send me to prison or something like that. I’m a depressed person so I plead temporary (hell, even permanent) insanity.

Actually, I was about to say that I’m depressed that I want to kill myself, but I fear God above all else. I heard people who commit suicide have a special place in hell. Besides, I’m already finished with the stage in my life when I was so fascinated about seeing a knife enter my flesh. The knife would make its way through the skin, going deeper, and then the blood would slowly seep out of the wound. But I’m not suicidal, mind you. I just have masochistic tendencies. (Ha! That’s an understatement.)

Anyway, my life is in shambles. My roommates hate me because I sleep through my alarm (which goes on and on for two hours. Aargh, I need a yaya to take care of me.). My best friend thinks I’m pathetic and self-centered, which are true, but you would’ve expected her not to rub it in, especially when I just broke up with someone. And the thing is, don’t we all have degrees of self-centeredness and being pathetic? My parents expect too much from me; it’s as if they want me to do the things they failed to do while they were younger. I bet that given the chance, they would live my life for me. Nobody could understand me, and I seem to waste everything I have: time, money, friendships, romantic relationships, even my body (you should see how thin I am now. No, I don’t take illegal drugs, you bitter envious people. My drugs of choice are nicotine and antacid. Kremil-S is already bubblegum-flavored. Yum.). My study habits (whatever’s left of them) give me terrible results, and I actually perform better on my exams when I don’t study. I have the worst sleeping pattern: narcoleptic by day and insomniac by night. Even my org offers no respite for me. How I miss Elmo, but then we’ve already established that iniiwan ako ng lahat ng mahal ko sa buhay. PUNYETA!

Please don’t give me that crap about how I should consider myself luckier than others. Of course I know that I’m better off than, say, women in some patriarchal (read: chauvinist) societies, where they are treated as second class citizens. I’m better off than kids my age in other less-developed countries where they can’t post in their blogs (They don’t even have computers, for crying out loud!) about how they are forced to do back-breaking work instead of letting them go to school. I’m better off than the college students decades ago when the writ of habeas corpus was suspended. But then again, I DON’T GIVE A DAMN. We all have shit to put up with, and patience is not one of my virtues. We’re humans, baby. If you prick us, do we not bleed? Or whatever Shakespeare said.

(And all that bullshit about being men- and women-for-others that Ateneo is feeding her students is just that: bullshit. Sorry, St Ignatius, that mantra probably worked in your time, but it’s gasgas already. How can you even strive to become a person-for-others when you see unscrupulous people scream “Every man for himself!” and then proceed to grab everything you have. Kalimutan na kinalimutan mo ang sarili mo para sa kapwa? Forget about it.)

I know that things don’t always go as we planned, but this is ridiculous. Several things turning differently I could accept, but this is my WHOLE life we’re talking about. It’s a movie with the cast and crew gone berserk. Time is such a naughty imp, spinning its yarn so fast I’m getting motion sickness already. “Come back! Come back!” I helplessly call after all the moments I have wasted.

I wish I could turn back time. Or at least have enough foresight so I would know the things that would embarrass me and/or make me suffer in the future. Minsan kasi hindi ko na pinag-iisipan mga ginagawa ko. I’m sick and tired of the uncertainty of everything. You might say, isn’t that the beauty of it? Yeah, if you’re the type who wants to be unpleasantly surprised even on your birthday.

Can somebody please bonk me on the head? Except you, Lorie. I know you really want to, but you might bonk me to comatose. Bonk, green-minded people, not boink. I could see Lorie imagining herself, wielding a humongous baseball bat over my head, “This is for being so pathetic; stop living in the past, loser! This is for being so self-centered; you’re not the only one suffering, eediot! This is for giving in to your lesbian tendencies; can you get any more desperate than that!?” And you can’t ask Andie or Jace to do that either. Plus, no divine intervention, please. That’s not fair.

Do I even sound coherent at all? Actually, I just realized that I could write better when I’m depressed. But when I’m inspired, I write worthless pieces of shit. See how weird I am? *sigh* bottom line is, my life is hurtling to the depths of despair, and I’m starting to come undone. Anyone out there with Messianic tendencies who wants to rescue me? Lesbian applicants also accepted.

shopping and *ahem* boys

Shopping for clothes can be likened to our experience with guys. We girls insist on trying on stuff we very well know can’t afford, much like our falling for guys (or girls for the gender-confused like me) we can’t have… just for the heck of it.

Sometimes, when desperate enough, we settle for the second, third or even the fourth best because (1) we really can’t afford the best or the new arrivals, (2) they were the only ones left for us, and/or (3) they were on sale and we want to take advantage of that.

In addition, the stuff we have been coveting for for ages, however affordable it is, might already be sold out, ergo, taken.

Chancing upon a great catch is indeed a lucky break. Like spotting a tank top that flatters your figure and seems to go with almost every skirt or pair of pants you have in the closet. You fervently hope it would last forever, or at least, long enough for the price to be sulit. You also pray to the goddesses of fashion that this particular top would outwit and outplay the fads in fashion, and survive the quirks and fickleness of its worst enemy: you.

However, there are cases when you have finally settled on something (or someone, whatever context you’re in) and decided to call it your own, you might find out too late that it wasn’t as great as you imagined it to be. It might have looked perfect in the flattering mirror of the fitting room and with the enthusiastic fawning of the sales gay, but back in the real world, the flaws rear their ugly heads. Its color doesn’t really complement your skin tone, it makes you look fat, its fabric gets itchy after some time, you can’t match it with most of your wardrobe so you need to buy new clothes to go with it, or, horrors, there’s a tear in the seams that you have missed.

You begin to wonder what could have been had you chosen the khaki pants, simple and boring yet classic, instead of the low-waist jeans with sequins that you now have, daring and sexy but, in retrospect, has the makings of a mere flash in the pan. And the time comes when the fad for the sequined jeans is over, or when you no longer fit in them. At this point, you either try to change its design to keep up with the new fad, or send it to the seamstress for alteration to keep up with your waistline. If these attempts fail, your pair of jeans finds itself stuffed at the back of your closet or in a bag among other hand-me-downs. Either way, both you and your pair of jeans must accept that change is inevitable.

This is a very difficult thing to do. “Sayang. I only got to wear it for such a short time,” you might say about your sequined jeans. Then you try to philosophize, “But I have no use for it now.” And on your favorite tank top you’ve had for ages: “Gosh, I like this one pa sana, but it’s so worn out already. I’ll use this as my pantulog na lang.” Sooner or later you would realize that you have to break off any connection between the two of you, or try to remain friends. And you would do what you have left to do: sigh and move on.

Following the separation, you probably would decide to rest for some time. After all, you are pretty much content with the rest of your clothes. You window shop once in a while, lingering in your favorite stores, indulging yourself to walk into the more expensive shops just for the heck of it. You allow yourself to wander into the fitting room with some clothes, but never quite committing yourself to one particular item.

Then something catches your eye. It might be an item you’ve overlooked in your previous trips, or a new arrival. Either way, you start to think, is this pink skirt worth its price? Will its embroidered hem go well with my other clothes? Is this the one or will there be something better waiting for me in the next store? You think long and hard, trying not to let the sales gay sweet talk his way into your wallet, or to be distracted by your aching feet (and tired heart). You tell yourself that you could come back later, when you’re absolutely certain that you want that skirt. But there’s this nagging feeling that it might not be there anymore.

When you finally make up your mind on whether to take the skirt now or come back for it later, or even whether or not you want that skirt at all, you realize that in either aspect of your life, shopping or boys, you would always have to take risks. You face the sales gay and announce which risk you are going to take. And the cycle continues.

tonight i can write by pablo neruda

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Write for example, 'The night is shattered
and the blue stars shiver in the distance.'

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.

To hear immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to a pasture.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is shattered and she is not with me.

This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

My sight searches for her as though to go to her.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.

Another's. She will be another's. Like my kisses before.
Her voice. Her bright body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is short, forgetting is so long.

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.

- Pablo Neruda

Can you just feel the overwhelming sadness in the poem? "Love is short, forgetting is so long." *sigh* I just wish I took up Spanish instead of Japanese as my foreign language. Poems are much much better when read in their original language. Spanish could be oh-so-romantic, English so... bland (for the lack of a better term). Don't get me wrong, I like reading and writing in English, but there might be some nuances lost in translation.

Hmm... is there anybody out there who has the CD of Pablo Neruda's poems recited by big stars like Sean Penn, Andy Garcia and Madonna? Can I please please pwetty pwetty please borrow it? I'll give you a big hug if you'd let me. ;p

My friend Angela lost a thousand bucks a couple of nights ago. She had two thousand-peso bills kept in her wallet, but while we were paying in Starbucks earlier that evening, she only found a thousand inside. She said she said her wallet never left her bag (or her possession for that matter) while she was in school. She used that particular wallet only once during the day, and was sure that she never used that missing thousand-peso bill to pay because she liked keeping her money buo instead of barya. She also folded both bills together, so it was quite impossible for just one bill to have accidentally fallen off or something like that.

But twice during that day she went back to her apartment, and she left her wallet on the coffee table in their sala (she’s quite, um, sabog that way. Peace tayo, Angie!). It was only logical to assume that it was stolen while she was at home. The culprit probably took just one bill so that Angela wouldn’t notice immediately.

You could only imagine how pissed off she was. I tried to comfort her, reasoning that at least it was a gift from her uncle, and not her allowance from her parents. But I knew it was a weak argument. Besides, for her it wasn’t just an issue of losing money; it was an issue of losing money in her own house. She had called that apartment home for more than three years already, and it was difficult to think that it wasn’t safe enough. Seems like she couldn’t trust anybody anymore. And I guess with all the rising costs of living nowadays, even an honest man could be tempted. I guess Angela learned her lesson too late: never to leave her valuables out in the open like that. (Have you, Angie?)

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not suspecting any of her housemates. Anybody could have just come in unnoticed and then took her money. Who knows? We could never be certain. (Although their maid suggested that we ask a manghuhula, but Angela doesn’t believe in that. Would have been fun to visit one, though.)

This incident really got me thinking, if we’re not safe at home then where can we really be safe? Are there people in our lives who we could totally trust, who we could say are absolutely honest no matter what happens? I guess we could never be quite sure, knowing that tao lamang tayo, vulnerable and inconsistent. In this life, there are no guarantees, only risks and leaps of faith.

Birthday Bullsh*t

I hate birthdays. Birthdays depress me so much. Hindi ko nga nararamdaman na special ang sarili kong birthday. At may I just say? Malas, as in sobrang malas ang birthdays (kahit ng ibang tao) sa buhay ko. Lagi na lang may nangyayaring nakasasama para sa akin kapag birthday ng mga taong malapit sa akin. Oh well. That’s life. Punyeta.

getting sentimental

Hindi na ako marunong umibig. Maaring sabihin ninyo na imposible sapagkat biniyayaan tayong lahat ng kakayahan magmahal. Inaamin ko na kaya ko pa, ngunit tila may pumipigil sa akin na magmahal tulad ng dati. Ilang beses na akong nagmahal at umibig nang lubusan, only to get hurt in the end.

Don’t get me wrong. Hindi naman ako puno ng poot at galit. Wala akong planong itakwil ang buong mundo, dahil ayokong iwanan ang ang aking pamilya at mga kaibigan. Miyembro din ako ng Tugon, isang SOA dito sa Ateneo, at layunin namin na mahalin at alagaan ang mga abandoned babies sa CRIBS. Ngunit kapag pag-ibig na ang pinag-uusapan, lumalabas ang aking pagkabitter, cynical at pessimistic. At hindi ninyo ako masisisi. Sinumpa yata ako na iiwan ako ng taong mahal ko kung kalian natutunan ko na silang ibigin nang lubusan.

Take Elmo, yung unang baby ko sa Tugon, for instance. He was almost seven months old when he was assigned to me, and I took care of him for almost a year. Nasubaybayan ko ang kanyang paglaki, mula noong gumagapang pa lamang siya hanggang sa natuto na siyang tumayo, maglakad at tumakbo. Palagi kong tinitingnan kung may tumutubo na siyang bagong ngipin, o kaya kung marunong na siyang magsalita. Paborito kong araw ang Biyernes sapagkat area ko iyon at alam kong magkikita na kami. And for the rest of the week, bukangbibig ko si Elmo. Kahit yata yung boyfriend ko sa mga panahong iyon ay nagseselos na sa kanya.

Alam ko na maiksi ang panahon ng aming pagsasama, na mawawala din siya oras na mahanapan siya ng adoptive parents. Ngunit pinili ko pa ring mahalin siya. At siguro, in his own way, minahal rin nya ako. I’d like to believe that he regarded me as his older sister, if not as a surrogate mother (Palagi siyang nagsasabi ng “Ma Ma Ma Ma” kapag magkasama kami. That’s enough proof for me. Hehe.)

Matagal ko nang pinangarap na sa araw na kukunin na siya, pipilitin ko talagang pumunta sa CRIBS upang makausap ang mga taong mag-aampon sa kanya. Kinikinita ko noon na tutulo ang luha ko habang yinayakap si Elmo sa huling pagkakataon, at habang kumakaway sa sasakyan na dala siya papalayo sa akin. Magkaroon ng closure, kumbaga. But it was not meant to be. Mabilis ang mga pangyayari. Dahil summer noon, at walang pormal na area, hindi kami nasabihan agad na malapit nang kunin si Elmo. At sa lahat ng kamalasan, dumating ang kanyang bagong pamilya mula sa Norway nang nasa Laguna ako para sa isang group project. May mga nagpunta sa CRIBS nung araw na iyon at minabuti nila na tawagan ako. Sinubukan nila na pakausapin sa akin si Elmo, ngunit tahimik siya, as if he knew something big was happening.

Akala ko manhid na ako dahil marami nang false alarms tungkol sa pag-alis ni Elmo. Akala ko tanggap ko na he wasn’t meant to stay. Akala ko handa na ako oras na mawala siya. Ngunit hindi pala. Tuloy-tuloy ang pagpatak ng aking luha. Maya-maya ay humahagulogol na ako sa harap ng aking groupmates. Later that day, iiyakan ko ang mga pictures nila Elmo at ang kanyang bagong pamilya na kinuha ng aking mga kaibigan sa Tugon.

Ilang araw ring akong malungkot. Sumama ang aking loob sa Diyos. I started to question Him. Bakit sa lahat-lahat ng araw, iyong Sabadong iyon pa ang pinili Mo? Bakit taga-Norway pa ang umampon sa kanya? At bakit hindi Mo ako binigyan ng pagkakataon na makita siya bago siya umalis? But eventually, I got over it. I realized that I shouldn’t dwell on the fact that I never got to see him for the last time. Na-mimiss ko siya palagi, ngunit iisipin ko na lamang na masaya siya sa piling ng pamilyang nagmamahal sa kanya, at sumasaya na rin ako.

Isa pang halimbawa si W. Hindi ko ikinakaila na minahal ko rin siya ng lubusan. But barely two months after maging kami, nagkaroon kami ng problema at gusto na niyang humiwalay sa akin. Naguguluhan daw siya. Nagmakaawa ako sa kanya na manatili sa aming relationship kahit na alam kong may iba na siya. Sa tulong ng aming mga kaibigan ay nagkaayusan din kami, ngunit natrauma na ako. Pilitin ko man, hindi ko talaga mabura sa aking isipan ang mga pangyayaring iyon. Nagtagal nga kami ng mahigit isang taon, ngunit madalas naman kaming mag-away tungkol doon. Di naglaon ay naghiwalay din kami. Palagi niya akong sinasabihan na bigyan ko pa siya ng pagkakataon, ngunit nasaktan na ako ng lubusan sa kanya. I can forgive, but I could never forget.

Strike three ang sumunod kay W. Mas bata sa akin si R, ngunit natutunan ko siyang mahalin. Nagkakilala kami habang may girlfriend pa siya, ngunit hiniwalayan niya ito nang malaman niyang may pag-asa siya sa akin. Ayon sa kanya, hindi naman niya talaga mahal iyon at napressure lang siya ng kanyang barkada kaya naging sila. Naisip ko na baka pressured din siya ng aming mutual friends, but I was too intoxicated to think much about it. Akala ko magiging masaya na kami kahit bihira kami magkita. Hindi na rin pumasok sa isip ko na magselos sa mga ex niya kahit na alam kong maari silang magkita sa kanyang paaralan. Naging complacent ako sapagkat napaniwala niya kaming lahat na mahal niya ako.

Pero barely a month after naging kami, may masama na naming nangyari. Isang linggo siyang hindi nagparamdam sa akin. Our monthsary came and went, pero wala man lang text message o miss call galing sa kanya. When I confronted R about it, it was my worst nightmare coming true. Napag-isip-isip daw siya na mas mahal niya ang ex niya (yung sinundan ko) kaysa sa akin, at ayaw naman niya akong lokohin. Kung wala akong kasamang kaibigan sa mga panahong iyon, marahil nagmakaawa na naman ako sa kanya tulad ng ginawa ko kay W. Handa talaga akong magpakamartir.

Mahigit isang buwan na ang nakalipas mula nang kausapin ko si R. Isang malungkot na buwan ng pagmukmok at pagiging tulala. Pero naniniwala ako na unti-unti nang naghihilom ang aking mga sugat.

Nauunawaan ko na ganito talaga kasalimuot ang buhay. Nauunawaan ko kung bakit kailangan nila akong iwanan. At siguro naman hindi ito parusa mula sa Diyos. Ngunit hindi talaga mawawala ang mga sugat ko. Sabi ko nga kanina, mahirap talaga makalimot.
Kaya ngayon, hindi na ako marunong umibig. Natatakot na akong itaya ang aking kalooban. Inaamin ko na nais ko pa rin umibig, ngunit kung masasaktan lamang ako, huwag na lang muna. Alam kong demanding kung pakinggan, pero kapag ako’y iibig muli, kailangan may guarantee na it won’t be a “one-month-wonder,” na magiging tapat siya sa akin.

Napapaisip tuloy ako, is there someone out there for me? Someone na makakapagturo sa akin na umibig muli? I can only hope for the best.