Losing it

I heard that song the other day and it made me go nostalgic. There are just certain songs that when I hear, I am suddenly transported to another time and it's like I am reliving whatever it was that made that song stick to my memory. This song came out when I was in high school (like ten thousand years ago or something like that), and I distinctly remember feeling slightly off (like there was something missing or something I forgot to do or something like that), and just a tiny bit morose. It was quite some time after that that I researched the meaning and history of the song, and when I found out it was about a dad who was parted from his kid, I thought, "Hey, no wonder I could relate to the song and I was feeling that way."


My mother would probably not approve, me being such an emotional basketcase (believe me, it takes very little to set me off -- I cry at movies, when reading books, listening to songs, while praying, when writing... you get the picture), but I do believe there is some merit in wearing my heart on my sleeve. I may be in a constant pendulum state (I never stay steady on one mood long enough), but I think this is a great strength (which, therefore, makes it an ultimate weakness, too. Hahaha, I just contradicted myself there, but whatever!) because it makes me... how should I say... more receptive and somehow more understanding of others (that was the best way I could put it). I am like a sponge in the sense that I very easily absorb the emotions "around" me. I get carried away by other people's emotions, especially those closest to me. When the people I love are in pain, I don't sympathize. It's like I'm wired in such a way that I feel their pain, too. I cry with them, I laugh with them, I am joyful with them. Is that even normal? Oh wait, I don't wanna know the answer to that. :D


Thing is, most people are afraid to feel, especially when emotions become too intense. Loving too much, extreme emotional pain (like the pain of loss), anger, hatred... I think there are many who are afraid to go beyond the "prescribed amount" or dose of emotions. When it becomes "too much" they either run, shut out, ignore, basically anything to not confront what's there. We are so conceited like that... we take the good, but we refuse to deal with the bad and the ugly.


Just my random thought for the day. I don't know how one song made me end up here.  

Independence is overrated

And just so we're clear, no, I do not mean a nation's independence. I mean personal independence. 


A decade ago, I thought, hey, being an adult would be the coolest thing ever. I would get to drive, go to places, discover new things, and learn a load of stuff. What they don't tell you, and what they kinda forget to show you on those popular TV series, is how frickin difficult it is to be a responsible adult. Most shows will just portray adults who seem to have unlimited or at least very easy access to funds and other resources. They don't show the reality that making ends meet, supporting your dreams, and still finding a way to live is an incredible feat that requires incredible skill. They also don't show what it means to be a responsible adult. The kind of of shows I see just mostly portray adults as people who can get away with doing what they want. There is no such thing as being responsible for your actions and decisions on TV. 


But whatever. I'm just saying that being an independent adult is not all it's cracked up to be. I mean, yeah, it's nice to finally not have a curfew or to have to answer to your parents for everything, but really, when I'm sick and I still have to do everything, I begin to really miss my mom. I miss the regular temperature taking sessions. I miss the food she would prepare just for me (I become really picky about food when I'm sick 0_o). I miss the regular text messages/phone calls to check up on me and remind me to take my meds. I know I don't need reminding, and I really don't need her to do that for me because I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, I'm just saying that even the most fiercely independent people like to be cared for once in a while. Looking forward to my mom's cooking and baking is also something I really really miss... Crawling into bed with her when I'm having bad day (I don't care if I'm too old to do that. Hahaha.)... 


Being a kid once in a while? Yeah. I miss that.

Blank is the word of the day

I have been blah for quite some time now. Blah is when you are neither here nor there, you just... are? Or you just are because you have to be. Try making sense of that. ^_^


Whatever. So today is no different, see? I feel like one of those pretty old cars that have not been used in ages -- or at least my brain feels that way. My engine coughed up a lot of gunk before being able to produce something of value. @_@ 


Being semi-employed certainly has its drawbacks, if I do say so myself. On the upside, I get to have all the time I want to think and ponder on the meaning of life (which, on some days, gives me a massive headache because I think myself into a migraine attack most of the time).


Speaking of headaches, does it not make your head hurt when your ceiling has leaks?!


Enough for today. Obviously, I have to start training my brain to function within the realm of "responsible adult" again. Good luck with that. I will be in Neverland for the rest of the week!

UMASAL LAMANG AYON SA GANDA ni LOURD DE VEYRA*

*This is not my work, but is way too amusing AND true to be left unshared. Good words of wisdom, Lourd. Keep 'em coming. :)

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Q: Bakit kailangan nito sa mga panahon ngayon?

Dahil sa mundong pataas nang pataas ang stress levels, dala ng banta ng climate change, kriminalidad, trapik, polusyon. Wala nang mas nakakakulo ng dugo kesa sa isang taong hindi umaasal nang ayon sa kagandahan.

Q: Ano ba talaga ang ibig sabihin ng pilosopiyang ito?

Ilang gabay, alituntunin, at halimbawa:

• Kung di naman kagandahan ang katawan (at lalo na kung tadtad ng kurikong ang balat), ‘wag mag-post ng mga Boracay pics sa Facebook. Polite lang ang mga kaibigan mo pero pinagtatawanan ka nilang lahat. ‘Yan ang mapait na katotohanan.

• ‘Wag artehan ang pananalita. Wag lagyan ng impit at kulot kung wala rin lang natural na impit at kulot ang dila mo—unless lumaki ka sa US, nag-aral sa mamahaling paaralaan, nakatira sa exclusive subdivision, o nanggaling sa pamilya ng mga panginoong may-lupa.

• ‘Wag magpumilit mag-Ingles kung di ka rin lang naman lumaki sa Forbes Park o nag-aral sa I.S. Mas lalong wag na wag kung mali-mali rin lang naman ang Ingles mo.

• ‘Wag mag-sleeveless kung maitim ang kili-kili. ‘Wag na ‘wag mag-sleeveless kung maitim na nga ang kili-kili, pamalo pa ng dalag ang mga braso mo. Mas na mas na ‘wag—nakikiusap kaming lahat lalo na ang mga tropa ko dito sa Project 2—lalo na’t lumalabas ka pa sa TV. Alam naming karapatan ng bawat tao sa mundong itong magsuot ng sleeveless, pero tandaang karapatan din naming laitin ka nang bonggang-bongga.

• Kung di rin lang naman kagandahan, wag magti-tweet ng “WALANG GUWAPO DITO" dahil masaklap ang tatalbog sa iyo na paghusga. Wag rin magti-tweet tungkol sa kalidad ng wine lalo na’t bisita ka lang. At kahit na may training ka sa oenology, ‘wag manglalait ng wine ng ibang tao—lalo na’t pinapasuweldo ka ng taong bayan.

• Kung ka-edad mo na si Madonna, wag nang labanan ang makinarya ng panahon at isipin na ikaw pa rin ang seksing haliparot noong 1985. Kahit cultural icon ka na. Ang pagsuway dito ay magdudulot lamang ng matinding bangungot sa mga milyong-milyong tao tulad ng sa latest mong music video.

• Kung ‘di rin naman talaga model, huwag tangkaing mag-model—maliban na lang kung ang produkto ay hollow blocks o kaya’y Pigrolac. Sinadya ng Diyos na bigyan ng angkop na tangkad at ganda ang ibang tao para sa trabahong ‘yun.

Q: Ano ang kinaiba nito sa “Kung ‘di rin lang kagandahan, wag mag-inarte?"

Wala masyado—magkamag-anak nga sila, in fact. Pero masyado namang garapal itong nasa itaas. Pero ‘yan ang masakit na katotohanan: marami talagang hindi umaasal nang ayon sa ganda.

“Things that are pure within themselves evoke pleasure, thus beauty," ika nga ni Socrates. Sa Tagalog, naaalibadbaran tayo sa di-kagandahan. Lalo na’t nag-iinarte pa.

Ang di pagsunod sa batas na ito ay nagdudulot ng mga di-kanais-nais na pakiramdam sa mundo. Basic human courtesy lang dapat, di ba? Hindi tayo umuutot at pinapaamoy sa katabi natin. Hindi natin dinuduraan ang pagkain nila. Pag humihikab tayo, tinatakpan natin ang ating bunganga. Ang pag-ebs ay isang pribadong aktibidad at hindi natin ipinagmamalaki sa ibang tao.

Q: Bakit marami pa ring mga taong hindi kagandahan na hindi likas na sumusunod sa pilosopiyang ito?

Hindi ko rin alam. Bakit ba may mga taong nagnanakaw? Bakit may mga taong pumapatay? Bakit may mga mahilig manood ng child pornography o kaya bestiality? Bakit may mga opisyal sa gobyernong nakaw pa rin nang nakaw kahit na sobra-sobra na ang mga pera nila sa Switzerland?

“Good nature will always supply the absence of beauty; but beauty cannot supply the absence of good nature,"ika nga ng Briton na si Joseph Addison. Ang mahirap ay kung pangit ka na nga, maarte ka pa at masama pa ugali mo. Yung mga ganoon ay wala na talagang pag-asang lumigaya sa mundo kahit ilang hamster o pusa pa ang alagaan nila.

Q: Ano ang karaniwang nangyayari kapag hindi umasal nang naayon sa ganda ang isang tao?

Wala naman sigurong direktang koneksyon ang stress at ang mga di-kagandahang billboards sa Edsa, pero tingin ko yung kay Joel Cruz Aficionado ay isang ehemplo ng hindi umaasal nang ayon sa ganda. Ang isa pa ay yung kay Ellen Lising ng Ellen’s Aesthetic Surgical Center (Naaalala ko bigla yung The Crow. O kaya yung Joker ni Heath Ledger sa Dark Knight). Naiintindihan ko na karapatan nila ang ilagay ang mga pagmumukha nila sa mga naglalakihang tarpaulin sa bawat sulok ng Maynila. Pero magkaiba yung pag-promote ng negosyo sa pananakot sa kapwa tao.

Q: Ibig sabihin ba nito: Ang mga pangit ay wala nang karapatan mag-inarte?

Kung magdudulot ng pagtatalo sa magkakaibigan, argumento sa magkaka-opisina, suntukan sa bar dala ng kaartehang ito--- oo, wala silang karapatan.

Pero, nasa demokrasya pa rin naman tayo. Kaya, sorry na lang ako.

Q: Totoo bang pinagpapala o mas sinesuwerte ang mga taong umaastang sapat lamang sa kanilang natural na ganda?

Higit pa sa pagpapala ang ihahain sa iyo ng langit. Kabit-kabit kasi yan. Una, hindi maiismiran ang iyong dangal. Hindi ka pagbubulungan. Hindi ka pagpipyestahan ng kritisismo at tsismis. Kung walang maipipintas, walang papasok na panlalait sa aura mo, walang magnet ng negatibo. Despues, gagaan ang buhay. Tiyak na ang pagpasok ng swerte sa buhay.

Q: Magbigay ng mga halimbawa ng mga taong umaasal lang nang angkop sa kanilang ganda.

A. Buti na lang marami pa sila. Si Lucy Torres Gomez ay isang halimbawa nito. Kung tutuusin ay may karapatan siyang umasta sa anong paraang nais niya—dahil siya naman talaga’y diyosa ng kagandahan. Pero kahit na ganoon ang sitwasyon ay hindi niya kailanman inabuso ang pribelehiyong ito. Alam niya kung anong asta ang bagay sa kanya. Laging nakangiti, mabait ang pakikitungo sa tao. Hindi binabalandra sa madla ang kanyang mga mamahaling damit at pabango.

Shalani Soledad, maganda at sikat pero hindi rin nakitaan ng angas. Simple lang siya. In fact, siya pa rin ay larawan ng lumanay kahit sa gitna ng ingay at gulo ng game show. Masdan at pakinggan kung paano siya magbilang ng “…One… two… three… Goooow!"

Q: Bakit naman ito pa ang napili nating pag-usapan sa pagpasok ng bagong taon at hindi ang mga hula-hula at mga pampasuwerte sa buhay?

A: Dahil wala akong bolang kristal at wala ka ring makikitang turban sa ulo ko. Umaasal lang ako ayon sa aking ganda.

Breaking free*

*This was originally posted in my Facebook account.


This was written way back in November 2010. It was written out of the overflow of my heart, and although months have passed, the words still ring true to me. This is a thank you to the person who broke me out of the prison I was in. I will always and forever be grateful for what you did. I can only pray that I be given the same opportunity to pay it forward and help another the way you did for me. 

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Maybe I thought wrong when I said that this, whatever the hell it was, was over. Maybe I just woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Or maybe I was PMSing. Or probably, I was just having a bad day – apparently, one of the many I had all too often when you were a constant. Or maybe, for the first time in such a long time, I may actually be right, and my misinformed conscience is trying to make one last stand to hold on to a past of murky intentions and misdirected emotions.

See, that was the one thing I could not get. I could not write for the longest time. Sure, I could come up with decent papers for school, and passable editorials for work, and maybe a poem or two when the occasion called for it. I thought for sure that I was unable to write because I was dealing with something bigger than me that I just could not process. The added responsibility I was trying to block out, the complications you brought about, the brother I could not fix, the father I could not find, the mother I was angry at, the drinking that was starting to spin a little out of control because it was my numbing option. I thought for sure my mojo went missing because I was far too torn and broken and down and out.

I thought wrong. You stole my mojo. And you did it so cunningly that I never even knew what you were doing until somebody who knew better bitch-slapped me back to the confines of reality. Point blank, I was told that my writing sucked and lacked the depth it once had. It was writing for the sake of complying. The love that once was its driving force was all but gone. And that was what broke my heart. I was gone, and I was part of the walking dead.

You are the best vampire of them all. Other vampires, at least they have enough decency to present themselves the way they really are. They have no pretenses, just their usual moves of getting close and then sucking the life out of you. But you! You are the best vampire because you are also a master of disguise. You came along, the knight in shining armor that you were in your mighty steed and sword slashing away at MY demons, and you “rescued” me. You picked me up out of my hellhole only to throw me somewhere far worse, because you locked me in a prison of my own fashioning. You were brilliant that way. You were never direct in your attack. You dropped subtle hints – that I was wrong; I was doing things the wrong way; I was not being faithful to God; I was being stubborn; I was being a wayward daughter, sister, and friend; and probably the best hint you ever dropped: I was never enough. You never said it outright, but everything you did pointed and screamed that thought out loud. You were clever, cunning, and downright vicious, because guess what? I started to believe you. Not only did I start to believe you, I started acting the way you were hinting. And before I knew it, I was lost. One day I woke up and I no longer knew the woman staring back at me from the mirror.

And before I knew it, I was wondering why I could not, for the life of me, WRITE. I could not write the way I used to, no matter how hard I tried. It was the longest and most depressing drought I had ever experienced, and it almost killed me. Each and every time I tried, I would end up hitting a wall. Even if I did manage to come up with something, it was never anything I could be proud of because it was all so perfunctory. The sad thing was, I think I also stopped writing because the rare times I did manage to come up with something and I would show you my work, you never even took the time to appreciate the effort I put into it. And that almost killed the spark. And for a time, it did die. Perhaps that was one of the most devastating things I have ever had to experience – the death of my art.

The funny thing is, my knight was never one I even considered. He saved me, in more ways than I can give him credit for. He broke me out of my prison cell, and he showed me how to fight back. He did not fight for me. Instead, he did something so much better – he handed me back my weapon and he told me to fight back and escape the clutches of the vampire who held me prisoner all this time. Because of him, I was able to recover what was rightfully mine to begin with. My lust for life has returned with a vengeance, and I am about to show the world what I missed all these years.

My knight came to me when I had almost nothing of myself left. He came to me at a point in my life when I no longer had the guts to face the world, or even look at myself in the mirror because I was too ashamed to look into the eyes of a woman who had no semblance of identity left. The courage that used to burn for miles on end was all but dying, and the voice that used to ring so loud was now nothing more than a faint whisper choking back desperate cries for help and biting back the retorts because the fight had left her already. The tough warrior who never backed down was reduced to a spectator in the arena, watching from the sidelines as her life ran by. The only sign of life left in the former shell of a person that she was were the tears that flowed when no one was looking, and the half-formed words that were barely coherent to anyone, much less to herself. I don’t know how or why, but my knight understood even the most unintelligible phrases uttered in those dark moments. He could make sense of the things I could not even define. He took my hand and he gently prodded me to stand up, brush myself off, and take back what was always mine. In those times I was too weak to walk, he would walk with me and there were times he had to half-drag, half-carry me just so I would move. And during the times I was too scared to fight, he would give me all the reasons why I should. And he would be there, reassuring, constant, stable, unmoving in his belief that I could.  

I am writing again. I have had to give up certain things, and that part was painful and devastating, to say at the least. I have had to rethink, re-evaluate, and re-define, and I continue to do so. My world is in a state of flux, and I don’t think it is about to end anytime soon. I had to let go of those parts of me that were holding me back, and that included my vampire, who I thought of for the longest time, as my truest and best friend. When I did, the words just seemed to flow and they took on a life of their own. It is like I am trying to make up for all the years I have not been able to write. I was so busy burying myself and trying to be someone else that I turned my back on who I was.

I am nowhere near finished. I am only getting started. I have a lot of lost time to make up for.

As for my knight? I hold him in my heart, the only place I can truly show gratitude for such an act. He did not have to break me out of my prison cell, but he did. He did not have to help me fight my demons, but he did. And he most certainly did not have to help me write again, but he did. And that is something I will treasure for my entire life.  

So was I wrong? Perhaps not. Because the greatest changes always require the biggest sacrifice and the most painful undertakings. So yes. I stand by my decision. 

Rain, rain go away...

It's been raining almost non-stop for three days now. It is no Ondoy scenario, but I can feel the tension everywhere. People are cautious, taking extra steps to make sure that they and their loved ones remain safe and out of harm's way.


The rain has gotten me thinking (when you live in a house with no TV, thinking and exercising your imagination is really pretty much the only past time you have -- not that I'm complaining, hahaha) about how I live my life and what's been happening to the world lately. The rain is just the symbolic means I see representing the tumult the world is experiencing... labor pains? With the freak weather we've been having, plus everything that's been happening on a global scale (the civil unrest in the Arab countries, earthquakes, tsunamis, mass animal deaths, and other natural disasters), people are already wondering what the heck is happening to the world. The doomsday fanatics are crying out, "The end is near!" Well, they may have a point.


Not that I am being fatalistic or whatever, I am just reading the signs of the times. I am no expert, so don't take my word for it. Read up -- you can easily google these things that I write about. The Bible warns us continually to be vigilant because we know not the time when He will come again. Whether or not you believe in the Bible, you have to admit that something big is happening, and it is leading to something explosive. Never before has the world encountered natural disasters on such a massive scale. And the political and economic turmoil in many countries leaves many, especially the rich who have much material wealth to lose, agitated and scared. 


Me? Yeah, it gets scary sometimes, because I fear for my loved ones, but personally, I am at ease because my life is in His hands, and I know I have nothing to worry about. Whatever happens, whatever else may come to pass, I know the rains will not wash me away because He is my anchor, and He is my rock. 


Ah well. The rain has let up. For now. I hope everyone is safe and snug at home. :)

Welcome me back to the world of cyber-writing!

So get this. This is my nth attempt at blogging. I have tried this many times before, only to have my laziness slam at my face (I'm sorry, I am just too lazy sometimes to bring out my laptop and wait for it to boot completely before I start writing. There is something immensely satisfying about grabbing a journal from your bag and just writing out furiously anywhere and everywhere, you know?) and I end up just deactivating my blog account. I have taken to posting notes and whatnot on Facebook, and I do enjoy having people read my brain farts. But my dear cousin commented on why I did not have a blog in the first place so that more people could read... and that got me thinking that, hey, maybe it's about time I take advantage of technology to pave the way to my dream of being a published writer!


Since I am a starving artist at the moment with no funds to have my work in print form, I will invade cyberspace in the hopes of testing the waters... again. :D 


Now if there is anyone out there who can teach me how to link this to my Facebook account, that would be perfect! I have loads of stuff there that I wanna share. :)