Typical Pisces
William Boyd from
The Blue AfternoonDignity was the first quality to be abandoned when the heart took over the running of human affairs.Strangely enough, my wrist feels broken, everytime you just touch it, even just brush it, I howl in pain, but I've got a huge smile on my face. Must have been from the volleyball practice. The endorphin rush is so wonderful; a natural high and now I've got this big smile on my face.
Mercury is on retrograde until the 12th of April or something and so things are delayed for me in terms of everything. Geez, as if that's all I need now, right? Has Mercury been in retrograde my whole life? This is what happens when you read astrology books and find out that everything written about your sign corresponds exactly to your personality. Yes, I'm a typical Piscean. I'm also a typical Goat or Sheep, which is where I fall under in the Chinese horoscope. You want to know me? All you have to do is read up on Pisceans and Goats/Sheeps and that's me. In a nutshell, all that I am is there.
I'm the typical Piscean. Sensitive, oft times uber-sensitive. I take things personally and seriously; even having fun. I give good advice, or so I was told, so I guess that must count for the Piscean's wisdom (I wish I could give myself good advice, but apparently, it only works on others). I am easily influenced so I switch sides often. It isn't being fickle. We just tend to see all the sides of a particular argument and fly from one side to the other. It's also because we are empathic. We feel people's emotions. We know what you are feeling. We know just by looking. I can tell when someone is hiding something. I can tell when someone's lying. I know that is so hokey but it's true. I have that gift. They say all Pisceans are psychic (not psycho, though, that can be applicable as well, hehehe) to some degree.
And that's me, really. I also take a look at the symbol used. Piscean is a fish, having no means of protection, we are usually very vulnerable and easy to hurt. True. But since we swim the oceans (the ocean, being a symbol of life) we know how to ride the waves and continue on. We may not be able to protect ourselves but we definitely know how to get back on track. You can't keep us down for long.
Ah! The simplicity of it all. Everything about me has been written on the stars. Well, these are the cards God handed down to me. I'll play them with as much gusto and fair. If I take the poker analogy one step further, so what if I told you what my cards I have on my hand, who said I still can't win? Maybe I'm showing you a winning hand.
Geez, this is what happens when I stop myself from whining and bitching. I end up writing pathetic entries like this. But no, I'm moving on. I refuse to whine and bitch. Maybe I can do something special tomorrow so I don't have to think so hard for an entry.
I might be watching Avril Lavigne's concert in Taguig tomorrow. That's bound to give me something to write about, right? Because right now, if I talked about how I felt, it wouldn't be any different from the confusion I was feeling a few days ago.
Sports is really great, huh? All this energy and the endorphin rush can really screw with your sense of reality. I keep shouting to myself,
I shouldn't be happy! There's nothing to be happy about but I can't seem to wipe the smile off my face.
And that, in itself, shouldn't be a problem! Someone out there is laughing. I can feel it.
Returnings
Ellen Bryant Voigt from
Winter FieldThe winter field is not
the field of summer lost in snow: it is
another thing, a different thing.My friends have returned from their sojourn at the beach and I listen eagerly to their stories; to all the stories that they tell me. It is like sweet music, one that you haven't heard in a long time. I'm glad they are back.
There is a longing to have been there but then, I wasn't. I move on. Instead, I embrace the joy of their return and their stories and watch them to see what has changed. And they have changed.
But then, it's not just because they have left for the beach during Holy Week. This is accummulated change; somethings have happened and have been happening and they finally reached their crux at Holy Week.
And considering all the things that entered my head and how I've changed in the past two weeks, it's nice to know that I'm going through the same things my friends are going through. Despite distance, despite time, we are still in sync.
Funny, I was so sick of all my incessant ramblings regarding my situation but my best friend and other friends seem oblivious to it. According to them, it's my return to my old whiny self. They told me that they miss it but they said it with a lot of affection...
I'm glad they're back. I only asked them for one thing: to return in one piece and with a big smile on their face. They have happily complied...
moving on, off to the next moment
Alana Davis from
Rest of YesterdayAnd I wonder now can I survive between wired awake and half alive
When I can't succeed I can only try to validate each day
And I'm losing though I'm using my best
And I'm choosing to destroy all the rest of yesterdayOn a car, sometimes we slow down because there is an accident. We look and really observe the sight. We can't help it but our eyes naturally gravitate to the area of disaster. Some people say it's because we are trying to force ourselves to realise that it is not us who is in the accident. Some people say that it's because we want to make sure it is no one we know. Some people say it's because we want to feel fortunate that it wasn't us. Some people say that it's because we are attracted to the loss of order (chaos being the natural state of the world). Some of us are just naturally attracted or fascinated by destruction or death or gore -- a natural genetic code from the days before technology and civilization, a hunting instinct that never disappeared.
Whatever the case maybe, we eventually move on. We see what we get to see (or realise that there is nothing to see or nothing more that we can see). We move on.
In horror films, especially for the ones who enjoy them (like me), we are attracted to fear. We like the rush of blood, the tension in the muscles, the shaking and quivering. It's because we want to feel alive. Fear can sometimes help jumpstart that feelin inside of you. There are those moments when the tension is so strong, we cover our eyes with our hands to avoid the shock but find ourselves peeking through spread fingers. We want to see it despite the fact we know we are going to get shocked. We think that we can actually filter the violence or the surprise by seeing only very little or in a blurred haze. And then the moment happens. Boom! We respond by either screaming, letting out a breath or just breathing easier. It's over. The moment has passed. We move on.
On to the next moment.
I don't think I'm on to the next moment. I think there is still more anxiety, more anger I need to get through because of this situation but you know what? I am sick and tired of writing about it here. I'm sick and tired of talking about it with people. I'm sick and tired of whining. So I'm off to the next moment. This is not something I am equipped to deal with. This is something I'm not capable of handling yet -- not in this state of mind, not with what I know. So I'm moving on.
Off to the next moment. Moving on...
Hanging by the edge, almost falling off but not quite...
Danielle Brisebois from
Welcome to Love, Now Go Home (written by Gregg Alexander)
If you see me on the way
Just smile as you walk on by
If you see me on the way
You'll know that I gave love a try
You're the only one to say to me in all my life
Welcome to love, now go homeA friend of mine who has been reading my blog had asked me (after a week-long absence) whether I was okay. I told him
I don't know. I feel so skewed inside to not even be abled to answer such a simple question. I explained to my friend what the problem was and that some people have somehow just managed to just pop up from nowhere and now I'm just filled with all these feelings and I want these people to disappear completely and I keep hearing about them.
These people just refuse to disappear.
The Kid and the Spaceman, I have not heard from in a long, long time but I keep bumping into people who either remind me of them or who I met through them or they just pop up into conversations so casually. It's like they are trying to make their presence known. You want to move on but you just can't.
And then there is the Spearmint who I am totally pissed off with right now and I erased the Spearmint's number from my phone so as to never ever text or call that God damned number again and what do I get in the morning? A text from the Spearmint informing me of the new number.
Please save it. Ugh!
The Spearmint has this unnatural ability to always contact me the moment I've decided to end everything; the moment I've decided I want no more.
Today, I went and joined the volleyball practice of my office. Sometime this coming April, there will be the whole GMA departmental intramurals. A little sportfest, competition amongst the different departments of the network. I joined because I thought it would just be a friendly game.
I was dead wrong.
There are trainers and practices and looking at the other team's line-up trying to decipher the other's strengths and weaknesses. I was taken aback. This is not some friendly game. This is serious business.
I haven't played volleyball in years and was proud of myself to hold on to some semblance of skill I once displayed. I was never an amazing player but I could carry my own weight. But the training, which must've lasted for at least 3 hours, pushed me to my limits. I know I said I love being sporty now and physically active but my body was just taken for a spin. Now it hurts when I stand up and it hurts when I am about to sit down. I can't climb the stairs without grimacing in pain. I feel like my wrists are broken (but my friend says it's okay) but I'm sure, later, it's going to bruise horrendously.
It will be awhile before I get back on track and my body adapts to this much activity. I'll have to stop wall-climbing for a bit, probably do it once a week instead of 3 times. I have to let my body slowly adjust to all this activity.
It's a pleasant distraction, really. I welcome it. Some people just refuse to go away and as much as I try, I can't seem to just let go. I can feel my finger nails bleeding, holding on to the edge. The frustration comes from the inability to fall. I want the far drop and the sound of a body crashing into solid ground.
Ground zero will be marked by a smile.
Disclaimers 3.28.05
Kosheen from
Crawling (written by Sian Evans, Darren Beale & Markee Morrison)
I'm bigger now / Despite of you / And when it all turns round / It'll all come back on you / Make no mistake / I learn my lesson now / The risk you take / Can break us down / Until we're crawlingHoly Week vacation is over and I have nothing to show for it other than extended knowledge of
South Park and the fact that I've finally seen Mel Gibson's
The Passion of the Christ. I've also seen an episode of
Lost and I must say I'm pretty much hooked. Looks like I will be spending time at my brother's house to get to watch it.
What I've done a lot of this Holy Week vacation was think about a lot of stuff. Ended up with another set of disclaimers.
You can find my first set of disclaimers here. They aren't as profound as the first set I wrote; but they will help me get by. Maybe they might end up helping others...
Anger and bitterness is never ending. It goes on and on. It won't stop unless you stop it. It takes conscious effort.
Everything is simple. People make things complicated. So it is possible to simplify your life.
Never allow yourself to stay the same. No one lives on stagnant waters. We keep growing; we keep moving on. And no one should take that against you.
Communication is a two-way street. It is not one person's responsibility to make first contact. Both should be willing to communicate. If only one does then it isn't really mutual, is it?
At some point in our lives, we must all earn our place in the world. We cannot continue to live off other's generosity. At one point, we have to prove our worth and justify our existence.
In truth, there are no real explanations to why things happen. They just do. We have to learn to accept.
If we learn to accept things and move on, we are free from bitterness and pain. If we learn to not dwell on things, not over-analyzing situations, we then free ourselves from hurt. We move on quicker.
If you hate someone, it means that they are still important to you because they affect you so. There is a very thing line between love and hate. The opposite of love, really, is indifference and apathy. It is a worse punishment than hatred.
Until you've battled your demons and won, they will always come back to haunt you. Sometimes, they return at the most inopportune times. Settle it quickly, if possible, so as not to impede on your continuing growth.
Demons that keep returning have a tendency to stop you in your path. There is always a tendency to stagnate when they return.
These are merely things I've discovered along the way. I've written about this before. At that time, the first disclaimers I wrote were hopeful and pleasant. I was coming from a good place. Right now I feel jaded. I'll be adding more here as time moves on and I learn more. This is the true disclaimer...
Everything is simple
Shakespear' Sister from
Black Sky (Fahey/Detroit/Ferrera/Guiot)
No peace for the wicked
No rest for the good
No use in pretending
That love is in your bloodDecided to sleep at home rather than at my brother's. Decided to just be by myself. Ended up listening to a lot of angry songs. Listened to a lot of songs that made me feel completely what it was I was feeling -- down, used, abused and led on.
Listened to Dana Glover's
You Almost Had It All, Danielle Brisebois'
What If God Fell From the Sky and
Welcome to Love, Now Go Home, Sheryl Crow's
Missing and
Anything But Down, Avril Lavigne's
Happy Ending, Tori Amos'
Tear In Your Hand, Marie Frank's
Save A Little Love, Fiona Apple's
Get Gone, Bjork's
Five Years and so much more. I almost cried but didn't. I wanted to but I couldn't. Tried to force it out but it didn't come out. I don't know what's wrong.
I guess because deep inside, despite how my insides are all twisted and compressed by pain, I'm still feeling happy. Geez, I am so fucked up...
Even I don't understand what is going on inside and I just have to accept and I do. I move on. I'm doing something completely thoughtless later. Just killin' time `til it arrives. Like I was telling someone last night. I want to be crazy. I want to be foolish. I want to make mistakes and just say
fuck it, so what?I feel like there's just too much explanations, too many things going around; there's too much thinking going on. I just want to do what comes naturally. I just want to do what is in my head.
There's just too much going on. Like my friend Morx said,
everything is simple. It's people who makes things complicated.
I don't want to be complicated anymore...
To the fourth power
Fiona Apple from
To Your LoveDo you just deal it out, or can you deal with what I lay down?
Please forgive me for my distance
The pain is evident in my existenceBeing random is a lot harder thing to do than I first imagined. Well, I'm sure it isn't that difficult for some but it is definitely difficult for me. I learned last night that I've been lied to again by people I trusted. People I was told not to trust but trusted anyway. God, I'm such a sap. I'm such a fool. Then all of a sudden, all the failed relationships of last year hit me really hard on the chest and I feel like I can't breathe. The pain is deafening. It's like you can't hear. It's just so God damned painful.
Sometimes you wish a space station would just fall on their heads. Land on them and turn them into some charbroiled version of themselves, flat as a pancake and burned beyond recognition. I'm so affected. The four people who really made a deep impact on me (in regards to love anyway) hurt me but, a delayed reaction of all things, the pain hits me now, times four.
I've decided I am through with it all. I'm done with it. Of course, the pain is searing so I'm trying to feel it fully so that it ends faster. Imagine the feeling being like a candle. Instead of trying to put it out, I'd rather make the fire stronger. Once it has completely burned away candle, wick and all, there is nothing left after. Nothing but a cold lump of wax. And it is hardly what it was before. Nothing remains. Nothing should remain.
I'm currently trying to create the principles of randomness. The tenets I should follow in order to be random (I know it seems contradictory but everything has qualities, elements and it should be followed otherwise it is nothing). I've already formulated that being random means that whatever it is I'm feeling at any moment should be experienced and felt fully. That way, it cannot return to haunt you. Once the moment is over, it is over. You can't return to it. Being random also demands never dwelling on things, never analyzing. The principle is to accept what is. There are no explanations. There are no hidden meanings, there is no greater scheme. It just happens. Don't dwell, don't over-analyze, just accept and move on. Being random also means you do whatever it is you feel like doing. Do not consider; if you feel like doing it, then do it. For people who cannot handle the repercussions of all actions (such as illegal or fatal acts) then you must state it openly the things you want to do and then move on. We cannot murder or run naked in public, so just say what it is you feel. It gives the words some weight and the action is not lost in thought.
I'm making more. I know it seems cold but I need to strengthen myself somehow. I've been telling people I need to be more random. I need to be more impulsive and already people have told me that they think I already am very spontaneous. They don't know how much I've been holding back. I've had tons of crazy thoughts in my head but never did them because they were just wrong or potentially damaging. There were some things I couldn't do in fear of the repercussions. Fear. Fear is the greatest enemy of someone trying to be random and chaotic. Fear pushes back into order, into some level of a system. I want to be unpredictable.
I want to be more spontaneous.
Because if I dwell on this pain, on these people, on the hurt, nothing will become of me. I'm tired of this life that is merely a parody of a life. I'm not a soap opera. I'm not just a bag of skin filled with blood and bones. This heart pumps, this brain thinks, these eyes see.
I will not be hurt again. I was texting my best friend who told me the Spearmint was in Boracay. I thought the Spearmint was back in Singapore. I never heard from the Spearmint when there was a promise. Well, for people like the Spearmint, apparently, words carry no weight; promises to me are made to be broken. Don't lie to me. Call me names, hurt me, kick me, break my heart but do not tell me lies.
My best friend heard the words coming out of my thoughts and told me once again not to lose hope.
It's the only power we have, Wangs he said. I said,
No, Jaypee, there is also pain. The capacity to take it in and dish it out. That's a power we have as well. It's a power I want to know well. They will not hurt me again. They will not hurt me again and think that it is okay. They will not tell me lies again. I won't give them a chance to do so.
The ice builds. It is winter inside me. The Philippine sun glares and a sweltering heat may begin to signal the coming of summer but it is winter inside. I can kill with a breath.
I just hope I do not falter. I hope I can take this conviction and make it true. I hope I do not fall inside myself and become weak again, vulnerable. How much more do I want to take? Because I know I can take a lot; I can take a lot more...
But I don't want to.
As the city sleeps, I ponder on some things
Bjork and Olivier Alary from
Desired ConstellationWith a palm full of stars
I throw them like dice... repeatedly
On the table... repeatedly
I shake them like dice
And throw them on the table... repeatedly
Repeatedly until the desired constellation appearsThe city is quiet. Manila sleeps while the majority of its wild, crazy denizens are off on beaches and cold locales. The rest who are left behind wait in hushed breath for their safe return so that the revelries can once again continue in full force. This is not Manila's night-life best. Places are closed. The city mourns. It is all quiet and peaceful. It is serene.
It's quiet here in my brother's house. The whole house is asleep. I know my sister is walking about awake but she stays in her room watching their sweet, sweet baby. I don't know if I can be held down so. I understand a parent's responsibility, actually, it's more a privilege to care for one so unconditionally but it is not something I wish to have. If I feel like it, I can just stand up, gather my things and leave. I want that capacity for myself. Freedom. I want freedom. Nothing holding me down, nothing holding me back.
Just as I have begun to put all the finishing touches on my computer at home, it breaks down on me. Windows is corrupted. As I am about to get a lot of writing done, the computer once again becomes another disappointment. It is just a string of broken up wires and chips. First it was the keyboard. I had it replaced. Then it was CD drive. I fixed it. Now it won't even go on. The system is corrupted. All these little bullshit things. I thought technology was suppose to make things easier. Now, it seems we have to have technology to repair the existing technology.
I let it go. Part of chaos, part of randomness, we just flow.
Some people who were left behind I had invited to go swimming. I said I'd
gather all those left behind and join our friends in spirit -- a time of our own revelry and joy. None have come. I'll take this time to watch some DVDs then. More movies in already a long list of films that I have seen. Expand my knowledge of cinema. It impresses some. Might as well, I could learn more.
The city is quiet, it is peaceful and serene. I feel like screaming. As happy as I am in my current job, I can't help feeling like I made a mistake. I should've taken the job that paid me more even if it was not the thing I wanted to do. Sure, I love my job but I can't do the things I want to do because I lack the funds to do it.
Once again, I weigh my options. What should I do? Is this what I want to do? How I want to live my life?
The choices we make dictate the lives we lead. That's from Hamlet, written by William Shakespeare. I wonder what Shakespeare had to sacrifice for the life he ended up living, for writing what he did and how well he wrote what he wrote.
Life's twists and turns. I miss wall-climbing...
Coming to terms
Tori Amos from
ParasolWhen I come to terms, to terms with this my world will change for meThe world is crazy. I once again insist and things I have known for a while now, this world is chaos. Chaos is beautiful. The natural state of the world is chaos. The universe is in a constant frenzy to create random moments. Do not try to understand, just accept. Go with the flow. Ride the wave like a surfer; this world is not for us to control, this world is for us to live. It's a ride, on a big black pick-up with a V12 engine on fifth gear going off-road. If you can't learn to shout "Banzai" then you might as well be another body on some psychiatrist's couch.
Over-analyzing things will only lead you to that same conclusion. There is no master plan; there is no one destination. It is all just a matter of moments and it all depends on how you feel at that particular moment.
For the first time in my life, I can't understand the way I am feeling. My finances are in the shits, work is unbelievably hectic and not getting any easier, my relationships with the people around me (strangers and close friends and family alike) are unpredictable and the world is unsure but I'm happy. I am actually fine and not depressed. Am I in denial? Or have I just realised that this is all part of the random-ness of the world.
In these times of wild abandon, I indulge myself in whatever it is I want to feel. Discomfort? I'll push the boundaries to it. Joy? I'll take all in in a greedy gulp. Worry? Then I'll let it shake my knees until my legs snap away from the rest of my body. If I am going to feel anything, I want to feel it fully. I want to indulge.
Tori Amos from
Jamaica Innthe sexiest thing is trust I wake up to find the pirates have comeThe world is a new place. I've always believed in the chaos theory but now I feel like I have truly accepted it. My friends are all in Boracay (while others in some other beach) and a few are left behind. I'm with family and there are promises made and there is so much sky when I look out my window. I'm feeling a certain fire in my chest and it isn't desire. It's passion.
I am dying to write something but the computer at home is all fucked up. Here at my brother's I can write but nothing I can return to; maybe on paper. I can return to the ways of before.
I trust in this feeling. I trust in this unknown feeling that surrounds me. I trust the unknown. I will take steps only when I need to. I don't want to plan anymore.
Tori Amos from
Parasolthe Seated Woman with a Parasol may be the only one you can't betray
if I'm the Seated Woman with a Parasol I will be safe in my frameThere is no escape from this except through art. I guess I know that now. All of a sudden the world is clearer to me now. There is no sanctuary except when I leave parts of myself behind in a form that can be understood by others. I must leave some form of art behind. I need to write. I need to be understood. This world of chaos is almost upon me.
I know now. I don't want to understand and I don't want to explain anything anymore. I just want to be; to experience fully. To be one with the chaos.
I think I'm ready now. The change is almost complete. I'm reaching my full self. I am soon out of the wilderness, almost out of this state of being lost in transition.
I hope people will be ready for it.
Departures
Max Sharam, from
Can I Catch FireCan I keep your fire burning
with the spark in my eye?
Can I leave even once without saying goodbye?As of this moment, my closest of friends are on a boat heading down to Boracay, probably one of the 10 most beautiful beaches in the world. They are off to a white sand paradise, cool breezes, azure waters and nights of music, dancing and wild abandon.
They offered to loan me the money so that I could go there and be with them but I politely declined. As much as I need a break, as much as a day in the beach would revive some sense of me, as much as I want to be with my friends, this is not a time to be so loose with money. We have to be practical and my friends and I are not the richest of people. It will be beyond our capacity to even spend extra for me. They should enjoy themselves, to the best of their ability.
And how can I enjoy knowing that there are bills to be paid and debts to be honoured right after? How can I enjoy knowing that my friends are scrimping on expenses because extra money was released to accommodate me? These things will be in the back of my head the whole time. I don't want to be ungrateful, but I can't go in these circumstances.
I've lived that sort of life before. For 2 and a half years, I was a struggling writer, trying to get writing jobs and I ended up only writing regularly for 1 or 2 magazines. I was only making enough to pay for my cigarettes and my cell phone bills. My group of friends at the time, wonderful sweethearts that they are, always invited me out. I told them,
guys, I can't go out, I don't have cash and they always say
Wangs, we want you to be with us, let's go. So, I would borrow the car from my Mom, pick my friends up and then have a night out in the town. They'd pay for gas, parking, drinks and entrance for me. We did this from Wednesday night to Saturday night; 4 times a week for almost 2 years. It was great. I never missed out on any of the fun. But it does something to your ego.
Again, I don't want to be ungrateful, but it kind of destroyed my pride, in the long run. There is nothing like being able to carry your own weight and I don't think you should force the issue with someone who wants to pay for their own way. The offer is good and sweet and all, but if the person is not comfortable with it; then leave it at that. I know what that person feels like. It's a thorn on my side for quite a long time now -- that memory that I was dragged around and I was paying for things with my company.
I want to fix up the financial mess that is my bank account and get on through this God damned dip in my cash flow. I want to stop wishing that things were different and treat people the way I want to treat them. I've always been a generous schmuck. I like paying for things and treating out my friends and family when I can. It really is so painful that I haven't been able to do that for quite a while now.
And now, all my friends are on their way to gorgeous Boracay and I'll be here in the city, at its most peaceful, and just gather up all the people who are not out in some beach or summer spot. Gather around some pool (probably mine) and silently wish that we were somewhere else.
To my friends: Hey guys, love you, hope you have a wonderful time and I'll see you when you get back!
Complicated
Aimee Mann from
Mr. HarrisI'm happy with whatever time we get
Depending on which book you read
Sometimes it takes a lifetime to get what you needI sort of almost came back to where I started from early this year but, miracles of miracles, it just didn't find its way to the old starting point. Something floundered and ended it in the most humorous way. It is something that wasn't expected. Surprise! You ain't going full circle. And I'm kind of happy for that. Let's just say, someone jumped the gun too soon for it to have gotten to a point that I may have to regret later on.
At least I can say that I was pleasantly surprised, if not, a little disappointed.
If not for the unexpected, I may have found myself in another state of
Oh my God, Wanggo, what are you doing? monologue and self-mutilation (in a sick, psychological way) over the things I can't seem to control. All of a sudden, I'm wondering if I should switch to the other side of the pendulum and wonder if it was a sign and that the universe really doesn't want me to go back there.
But then again, there are logical explanations and I did hear them and they make perfect sense, so it was all just coincidence and chance and whatever else we can attribute it to. But I can't help feel like I was saved by some outside force. All I know is that there are no regrets and just a smile on my face and a new story to tell, if ever I decide to tell it.
Awhile ago, during a conversation, I mentioned that I was complicated. Despite my wish to never have to lie and to try to keep my life as simple as possible, I can easily admit that I'm complicated and leave it as a good enough excuse for acting the way that I do. I shouldn't be happy with that, now, should I? It's almost like a double standard yet it isn't because it's about who I am and what I do.
Can we separate the two so neatly and say that I'm a complicated person but I try my best to be simple in action and in lifestyle? Shouldn't one necessarily follow the other?
I don't know. I guess I must be over-analyzing what happened (or almost happened) a while ago and I'm hoping for some level of clarity. But none will come. I am just going to be thinking about this again and again and again and no answer will come.
The truth is, we have to make the answer. We choose it for ourselves.
So here I am again, at the office, really early morning and wonder when things are going to change... It's all the same. I don't know if that has anything to do with the moment of weakness a while ago. I don't even want to call it that. It makes it sound less... I don't know, trying to make it sound like I didn't know what I was doing or I had no control over what was happening when I did know exactly what was going on. I could've done something.
But that is what it was, a moment of weakness, of giving up, almost losing conviction and strength. Thank God I was saved; spared the emotional agony of having to over-analyze a rather simple situation.
I wonder what happens now...
The body in motion
21 Grams (written by Guillermo Arriaga)
Whoever looks for the truth deserves punishment for finding it.I've been invited to join my wall-climbing friends to go and play ultimate frisbee. And I am extremely eager to join them and play. The game in itself intrigues me and it is a very passionate sport, as I was told, because the commitment you make to catching that frisbee and the speed in which it is played gets you so caught up with it that there is nothing else but the game. Aside from the fact that it is also a great work-out, I find it a very tempting offer which I want to accept.
I've never really been the athletic kid. As a kid, I was hyper. I was constantly running around, dancing, jumping over furniture and climbing under tables and chairs. But I was never really athletic. Coordination wasn't the point of the exercise, it was just motion. Later on, in High School, I had already gotten fat but I played a lot of volleyball but never good enough to be considered good. I just liked to play but never well enough to excel. College showed the increased decline of my physical activity. I had lost a lot of weight due to my quitting soft drinks and my increased walking rate but sports had been almost non-existent in my life.
It surprises me now that after all this time, I'm getting involved and getting enthusiastic about joining sports. I'll admit I'm not the best wall-climber and I've been climbing for three months now and some people who have been climbing for just a month are getting better at it then I am. I've always been a poor student. I'm practicing weight distribution now and footwork and I'm not getting it. But I can feel the increase in my physical strength, I can see the effect it has on my body, and the increase in energy and zest I have 2 days after a wall-climbing day.
And now, I feel like I have the energy and the strength to push myself to the next level. Ultimate Frisbee is a cardio work-out that involves team work, a quick mind and precision. For the first time, at 26, I feel like this is something I can do and I want to do and I think I can do well. I've never been comfortable in team or competative sports because I'm such a Mr. Hyde when it comes to competition. I turn into this horrible monster who needs to win.
But the wall-climbing people are so nice and I feel I can absorb that sort of spirit and not take it too seriously.
Knowing that I can be a physical person and still be intellectual and creative excites me because I don't want to be put into some easily categorized box. I refuse to be put into this simple little box. I want to be everything I can be and I don't want anyone to say otherwise.
This sort of thing will really make me happy. To know that I can break the boundaries of a routine and expected existence. I can break the mold. I won't be what you expect me to be.
I just love the thrill of my body working overtime, pushing itself to its limits. I do that with my mind on a daily basis. It's time to use everything...
Sobriety is under-rated
Tanita Tikaram from
You Light Up the WorldHave you found yourself in the frame of mind?
Where no-one can be too kind
And there's so little lost
There must be a life to trust there
And if I try I know I'll be there
To hold, and be mineSpent pretty much the better part of yesterday with my brother. I came to visit my Dad while he is in town but since his schedule is close to impossible with all the things he has to do, I spoke with him for the better part of 2 hours before he had to leave again.
It didn't matter to me that it was a Saturday or that my friends were planning to go out. It didn't matter to me that there were two parties raging forth in the metro. I've danced my fill for the past 3 weeks. I've done so much work these past 2 weeks and found the lazy relaxing pace to be one of pure bliss. There was no rush, no pressure, nothing. In my beige cut-offs and rather large blue shirt, I was comfortable. I could mess up my hair and still be un-self-conscious about it. My brother and I did our usual repartee and still followed it with a serious discussion over family and friendships and our plans for a vacation somewhere.
I really don't understand people's need to lose themselves. They chase after this temporary madness -- intoxication or getting high and then waking up feeling down or wondering what stupid thing they do. Back in the days, I would get drunk or high to enhance an already wonderful moment. I never used it as an escape. It was one of the three cardinal rules I set up for myself when I got into that sort of lifestyle. I won't deny that I miss getting high but I just realise that it isn't going to make things easier on me anymore and it really won't help the situation.
And I never really liked getting drunk. I will admit that the buzz is good. That little tingling sensation in your head and it gets so easy to smile. You are a little more confident and you have let go of just enough inhibitions to be charming and honest. I can't stand inebriation, utter drunkness where either you sit in one corner looking somber and ready to kill somebody or cry, or where you are laughing really loud, bumping into people and making a complete ass of yourself. I never really understood that.
It used to piss me off before when I would go out and people would insist I get drunk and I would say
I'm having fun, no worries. I'm enjoying. And they would think I was lying because I'm not drunk. When the pounding head ache comes in and the vomitting starts, tell me, is that still enjoyable?
Maybe I'm just all grown-up now. Don't get me wrong, I've had my fair share of drunkeness. I did go out 4 times a week for 2 and a half years straight. I guess I just had my fill. And for all that time, I never got so piss assed drunk that I made a total fool of myself (except for one time in Quezon that involved too much
lambanog and one time in Westin where I had 33 shots of Kamikazee in less than an hour and a half, but those are totally different stories). But if anything, I don't remember having done anything to hurt anybody or said anything I shouldn't have because I was drunk. And most of the time, that is the case and somehow, being drunk is such a convenient excuse.
I'm so sorry, I was so drunk kasi eh...Yeah, right. And just in case you didn't notice, my
Yeah, right was dripping with sarcasm.
It isn't an escape. Because your problems are still there and the issues are waiting for you to deal with them. They aren't going anywhere because you spent the whole night drinking and dancing. Face them head on sober and get them solved and sure, there is probably going to be some pulling of hair, maybe some tears shed but once it is over, it's over. You move on.
Sometimes a laugh, brought out by just the situation and company can silence the world. There is no need for other things to come around and help it. It is the sincerity of such a laughter that moves me. The laughter not pushed out by any sort of substance except joy.
Yeah, sobriety is so under-rated...
The weight of friendships
Dostoyevsky
The awful thing is that beauty is mysterious as well as terrible. God and the devil are fighting there and the battlefield is the heart of man.In my four or five years of going out during weekend nights (and even weekday nights, who am I kidding?) and meeting people and forming fast friendships have led me to look back in it with a larger view. I learned a lot about how to categorize people and put everything, even relationships into proper perspectives.
There is a big deal of affection that we give to the people we hang out with every time we go out. They are the people we always share a laugh with, they are the ones who sees us drunk and stupid, or even worse, high and reckless. We see them twice, thrice even four times a week but, at the end of the day, I've always asked myself,
how can I consider this person a good friend? Do I know what his/her parents do for a living? What province does he/she hail from? Do I know what was the reason they cried for the first time in their lives? Do I know any of these things?
Sure, I know their favourite drink, who they are going out with and what they are looking for in a partner. I know if they have strict parents or if their parents don't care, I know what school they went to and what course they took. It's all part and parcel of the small talk that comes with it. But at the end of the day, some of these people, I've never seen in house clothes. Some of these people, I don't see in the light of day. And when I do, it's for short periods of time and always talking about what happened the night we saw each other last or the night that's going to be.
It's all laughter and fun but it feels hollow.
I always make it a point to know these things -- when did they start smoking, what their parents do, how many siblings they have, what province they hail from. Sometimes, given only 2 hours with a friend of a friend that I just met, I discovered some things about that person my friend, the one who introduced us, didn't even know yet. I want to try and make every friendship as meaningful as possible. Because friendship is a very heavy word. If thrown into the sea, the word would sink down into the depths. It wouldn't float because it means so much.
I'm not the sentimental type. At one point, once I realise that certain people will just be hanging out friends; that they are not the sort of people who I can sit for hours in a coffee shop and talk about nothing or everything or something, then I let go a little. Of course, I have affection for them and when I see them, the laughter and smiles and hellos are sincere but I know that it ends there. If it never occurs to me to call them when a problem arises, I know how close we are to each other.
Friendships are very important. I can spend days and days with them, if given the opportunity (and I have) and I've seen their worse sides. I've spoken to my friends about philosophy, the way life and love works, history, psychology, literature and art. We've spent hours talking about nothing -- how fascinated we are with spices, how we like the sound of high heels on wooden floors, would you go and be one of the first colonizers of Mars given the chance, etc. We've spent hours talking about everything -- what it would be like traveling in Rome, the state of the Philippine film industry, how do you see yourself in the next 10 years, etc. And we've talking about things -- why so-and-so doesn't easily get into relationships, whether it was right for so-and-so to get together with so-and-so, if so-and-so is drinking too much and whether we should interfere or leave it alone, etc.
These are people who make fun of me for my weaknesses and my faults and I don't mind and people who I can sit down in front and tell him or her that I think what he or she is doing is wrong. There is just so much time and effort given.
Anything worth its weight in gold needs effort.
But then again, there are people whom I haven't seen and spoken to in such a long time but the feelings have never changed. And there are people who I see very often but really know nothing about except what's on the surface.
I was talking to a friend, Jayce, and we were talking about friends; how easily some people have bestowed that position to others all because they hang out often and share the same interests on a surface level. Sometimes, these friendships, created through the enjoyment of a night out, alcohol and even drugs, are also the kinds of friendships were people talk bad about each other behind their backs and even make fun of each other when the other is not around. It has no solid basis of going through the harsh realities of life. The world of their friendships are based on their lives when experiencing pleasure. But they've never really experienced each other during times of harsh reality.
It's almost like an illusion that you know about but are afraid to deny because it is so ideal.
I guess it is why I deleted all my on-line friend community accounts. I want to stop all this intimacies with people I've never met. I will admit, I've made some great friends out there, amazing and extraordinary people. We've shared a lot and have talked about nothing, everything and something but how strange to have never met them.
I want my life with as little complications for the moment as possible.
So I make clear distinctions with people. There are friends, there are people I hang out with and there are people I know. We shouldn't blur the lines between these three lose categories of people. It will save us from a lot of disappointment in the future...
The kid with a comic book in his hand
Jim Morrison
There is the known and the unknown. I want to be the door.One of the graphic designer/artists in the office brings his comics to work sometimes. To pass the time, maybe, while waiting for the assignments or to rest his eyes or maybe to get inspiration; whatever the case maybe, I've been taking it from him and reading them during my free time.
How fun to all of a sudden remember my younger days when I used to be a comic book geek and could effectively argue over who were the better super-heroes and super villains. I look back and realise how I moved my arguments from which character had cool super powers to which character was drawn better until it came to the point on which comic was written better than others. Slowly, I began appreciating more what made the comic book what it was; rather than the product, I was more involved with its creation.
I did, after all, write 32 issues of a comic book professionally when I was 14. Looking back at my work, it was horrible. I blame my age for that mistake. At that age, if you were offered to write a comic book, what teen-ager would refuse?
Reading the comic books now, there seems to be some new emphasis on the grit. An indie movement, it seems to make the work edgier; to match up with the world's current reality, it seems. I don't mind. The harder it is to distinguish fiction from fact, the more subversive the art form without having to be overt.
I used to live with all these characters I made on my own and I knew which artists I wanted to work with. I knew which characters I wanted to work on. I gave up that world a long time ago. I've kept some of my old stuff; my favourite issues but haven't opened them and read them in a long time. I no longer live with heroes flying around me in weird costumes fighting for the sake of good and evil.
And now, I was offered again, "
Wang, let's make a comic book. You write something." Strangely enough, my answer was "
sure. What kind of comic do you want to make?" Without thinking, I acted upon an impulse that came from somewhere deep inside me. A longing for things that should've come a long time ago from an old group of people, another batch of friends from the past. Does it come true for me now, now that I'm older and a better writer?
I don't know. Already, the heroes and villains fly around in my head and I can already see some of their costumes; trying to write different ways for different people to talk. I'm strangely excited.
Post Script: To the person who has my whole collection of
Kabuki by David Mack, if I discover that you are holding it on purpose, not returning it to me on purpose; I'm gonna slit your throat with a batarang, burn your legs with heat vision and tear your head from your body and throw it like a football into the Pasig river. You scum! But if you just don't realise you haven't returned it yet, please do and I'll give you a hug and thank you profusely...
Running on sheer force of will
Voltaire
God is a comedian playing to an audience too afraid to laugh.I lost a whole entry. I click on
Publish Post and it says something like
Error requested URL cannot be found. I tried to refresh or go back to the previous page and found this one but with no words. Everything erased.
I was just talking about how I was running on sheer force of will. For the past two weeks I had been sleeping at the oddest hours and for the oddest amount of time. Certain days would find me sleeping three times in one day but for two hours only. Other days, like last Sunday, would find me sleeping for fifteen hours straight. Normally, if one were to sleep for that long, they would have over-slept and they'd wake up dizzy but I didn't. I woke up fine.
My body needed the rest. Only this week proved to be very demanding. Since waking up yesterday at six in the morning, I have slept a total of one hour. Yesterday also found me working and today directing a shoot. On sheer force of will alone, I find myself with enoguh strength to write here despite how tired and sleepy I am and despite how pissed I am that the original entry I wrote just disappeared on me.
Because of my strange sleeping habits, my sense of time is totally destroyed. I am usually awake for two days straight then sleeping at the oddest hours and waking up to the moon light. I get hungry outside regular meal hours and when I step out of the office to smoke, I am bathed in sunlight rather than moonlight, as I had originally thought.
I walk this Earth not really knowing what day it is. They all just seem to merge and it looks like it will be continuing to do so for some time. My work schedule ain't going to lighten up anytime soon.
So by sheer force of will I keep myself awake to continue with this entry. Thank God for work. It gives me the will to push on and try and make something of myself. Thanks to my friends who are without a doubt, one of the best bunch of guys and gals anyone could ask for. Especially the three I haven't seen in a long time who went to my impromptu party. It was so last minute and still you came. That's really, really sweet of you. Thank you.
The love and tenderness I receive from my friends truly inspire me. It made last night totally worthwhile despite the fact I was panicking because I wanted to get here earlier to finish all my work. But despite that little detail, I'm glad I spent the time with you. It was truly precious and will not be so easily forgotten.
My eyes are starting to drop but I've been keeping it up and not feeling any pangs of exhaustion during the shoot (thank God!) but I do feel it now. My body knows. It is much smarter than I am... It knows I don't have work that's pressing; a little trip to the couch and sleeping there would be ideal.
Mind over matter? I wish but my body needs this. I need to sleep. I'm very sleepy and tired and exhausted...
Of pleasant mornings, kittens and children...
Texted to me by my Dad
There are only two lasting bequests we can give our children -- one is roots, the other wings. It was a glorious morning the other day. I was on my way back to work after having visited a friend during his lunch break (in the morning, I know, call center people really have it bad) when I saw a kitten. It looked like it had just been born about a couple of weeks. It was tiny. I could pick it up with one hand and I'm not that large a person. And it was struggling over a tiny little hill. And it just kept crying. The poor thing, its mother was not in sight.
I just stopped to stare it for a long while wondering what I could do. I just felt so bad. A woman walked by and saw the kitten then saw me and she looked at the kitten again. She shook her head as she passed me by. I wonder what she was thinking...
I stood there for a long while wondering what I could do. There was no place to buy food nearby and I couldn't bring it back to the office. I wouldn't be able to take care of it and it would probably not be allowed, anyway. I just felt so bad and helpless. The poor thing looked so alone.
I don't know if it was the promise of a new day the morning brought or having had a nice conversation with my friend, but I just felt so bad after seeing such a sight.
Looking back at that morning, I find it strange that I cannot feel the same way about children. I really have no patience for the tiny little brats. I had always said
if I were God, when women gave birth their children will come out 12-years old and ready for High School. It's really just for laughs; who would want to rob a person of their childhood. It's just that I can't deal with them -- children.
I find, though, the comparison to be unsettling. I can feel so much for the kitten but can't find the same amount of compassion for a child.
But then again, I'm thinking about the situation. On a regular day, bothered by the day-to-day and stressed out with work, I always don't have patience for stupidity or inanities... But when I'm having a good day and I've slept enough and I'm full and in good spirits, I usually am more open to stimuli and take things lightly. Had I been bothered by the day-to-day rather than enjoying the morning and the conversation, would I have even noticed the kitten?
If it were a beautiful day and I was in good spirits, would I give the child the time to run and play and enjoy his/her youth?
I don't know. But I know there is something there; the state of your day is so very much connected to your state of mind. And the state of your day all depends on how lightly or seriously you take things.
Give your worries wings and let them fly and perch somewhere else. And take morning walks; there's a lot to think about when the world is waking up and the promise of a new day is still full with hope and beauty.
Two Steps in the Water
Kate Bush, from
Hounds of LoveTake my shoes off and throw them in the lake
And I'll be two steps in the waterAfter today, the shoes I'm wearing on my feet will be thrown into the garbage. They've got a great design, comfortable and it breathes, allowing a lot of ease when walking. It really takes care of my feet. Unfortunately, being my favourite pair of rubber shoes, I wore them out quickly, always wearing them where ever I go. Especially when I go out dancing; the wear-and-tear on the shoes I've got on when I dance is unbelievable. I happen to dance like a maniac.
All my shoes are in horrid shape. I can't help it, I'm a walker. I walk everywhere. I walk from Robinson's Galleria to Star Mall all the time. Or from Makati Cinema Square to the Glorietta MRT station. That's a distance that is normal for me. That's about a 15 minute walk, I think. Depends on the day... I've never been a good judge of measurement so I'm not even going to attempt to say how far it is. I'd just be off the mark.
I love walking. Unlike dancing or wall-climbing, walking allows me to think and I don't do anything but think. I'm surrounded by thoughts. Sometimes, I get three or four ideas in my head at the same time and I'm toying around with them simultaneously. It's a different kind of feeling, to be overwhelmed by one's on thoughts. Unlike wall-climbing and dancing where the thoughts disappear and for that moment, everything is clear; walking surrounds me with them and the heaviness is a wonderful feeling.
And with all the thoughts in my head, I walk. I let these things simmer in my head. I let them go and take flight. And my feet keep taking steps forward.
But my poor shoes! In what a horrid state they are in. I have to keep buying new ones. After all, in the birthday book and a lot of my astrological readings says I have to take extra care with my feet. Apparently, a lot of health problems will arise if I don't take care of my feet. That's what the books say, I couldn't make this up myself if I had to. And they are all rather consistent. Strange, huh?
So today I wear my favourite pair of rubber shoes for the last time. My feet comfortably snug in them, slowly breathing. I'm also wearing my favourite pair of pants and a shirt that I like a lot. Yesterday was favourite clothes day or whatever but I haven't gone home yet, sleeping in the office so that I can continue working later in the early morning. And then soon, the impending departure of my shoes.
Throw them in the garbage and I'll be two steps in the trash. We are all dying, the moment we were born, we have begun to die. We are all slowly heading towards the point we will no longer be of use to society. It all depends on what state we leave in, I guess. All used up, worn and broken? Or still looking brand new, hardly used, just admired from behind glass?
You decide. I've already decided what I want for myself. I'll be going like my favourite pair of rubber shoes. Torn, dirty, worn-out and falling apart. There's a dignity for having been used and used well.
That's what I decide.
It Begins Here
Anne Schaef
I have made some bad choices, some so-so choices, and some good choices. The most important aspect of them is that they are all mine. All of them.This is my world. On my 26th birthday, I begin anew. One more change in a succession of transformations and reinventions and this will hardly be my last. But it will be a defining one. There's no doubt about that. This is it. It starts now.
My whole life is a long list of
indulgences that does not seem to end. They are happy moments and sad moments and there are long-winded stories that stem from these. And there is no denying that it is these indulgences that makes me want to write; these moments that somehow mirror some level of existence that continues to make me want to tell stories.
So I accept them. I let go of the elusive bliss. If it keeps going away, why should I continue to go after it? Instead, I will celebrate the indulgences of my life. Such as my eccentricities and the thoughts in my head. Such as the moments I find myself in and the moments that happen by accident. Such as the conversations I have and the conversations I over-hear. These are the things I indulge in.
There is nothing wrong with indulgence. There is nothing wrong with pleasure. And there are so many ways to indulge yourself.
Enjoy it. Treasure it. Embrace it. Celebrate it. Indulge.
