Wussy Me

OK, so I never got to Ortigas. I'm allowed to change my mind right?

Just want to announce that I'm OK and I got home safely. hehehehe....

Lost in Manila

And the day has come for me to venture alone in Ortigas. Me who thought that Ortigas and Makati were one. HUUUUU-WAT? I know, I'm stupid. You can't blame me for growing up with my school just a few hundred meters away. Add to that the fact that I don't go out that much.

Tha'ts the reason why I cried when on my first day in college, 'cause I'm damn scared of the thought that I'll be commuting everyday alone. That's why my lolo asked our neighbor, who has a school service business, to include me in his roster of gradeschoolers and highschoolers from Ateneo and Miriam, that's funny! Hahahaha! But FUN!?!

And now, I have to go to ortigas alone?! And watch me get lost just like when Iwas supposed to go to Megamall, I reached Alabang already, just because of one wrong turn. Stupid! Stupid! What will happen to me? If I don't have an entry by next week, I'm probably still lost.

Under the Purple Sky

Last night I walked under the deep purple sky and slowly crept into a hidden garden of nameless faces with three good friends.

It felt good. I had a great time, had a good hearty laugh and for two hours I almost forgot all my worries. I forgot about my pending works, the stacks of paper on my desk, the manager callbacks that I need to do. I forgot the money that my sister needs to continue with her studies, the bills that needs to be paid and the over cluttered space that I call home. I forgot about my broken heart and the loneliness of being suddenly "partnerless".

I was right in thinking that the right combination of good food and good company could make a difference in one's life. I want to do it again. Soon.

Confession of a Non-Shopaholic

I'm not a shop-a-holic. I don't even know how to shop. I buy what I need and that's it. There's this one particular person in my recent past that taught me how to shop for myself, and finally I learned to buy myself a pair of undies for the first time at age 20.

I really liked going through "on sale merchandise" since it makes me think that I'm saving a lot with such a good buy. Though I really don't think they're that forgiving in lowering the prices, for all I know it's the same price but with a different colored tag. Still, regardless of that fact, I don't think I'm a shop-a-holic in any way.

Last saturday, another friend finally showed me the power of shopping. After all the melancholic paranoia of my recent pained past, I felt ecstatic. The power of money surged through my vein. Good thing I haven't felt the power of the credit card yet, for now, I'll settle with cash. Yeah, the art of rummaging through items, the feel of cash in my pockets, the sound of the cash register and the weight of all the bags on my hand made me happy.

Waking Insomiac

And so I'm suddenly awake, drenched in sweat and cussing my head off...

I cannot, for the love of life, phantom the extent that this curse is affecting my life. It's much too complicated for my simple mind to understand the only question ringing in my delusioned head, "Why me?!"

Why was I not blessed with the art of being asleep instantly? Why can't I stay asleep? What can I do now?

I wish I can close my eyes and the dream fairy could visit me instantly. I wish to lay my head on my pillow and not worry. I wish I can sleep now. Oh how I wish!

You Need a Manager? Wait for a moment and I'll transfer you...

You need a manager? Just a moment please, I'll transfer you to our slave.

Why me? Why do I have to be the underpaid, overworked employee here? Why is it that they would forever tell me I'm so great and that I'm the best but they still woudn't promote me into anything that has a title and a raise. I don't need their praises that's all I'm saying.

When the don't know how to do something they'll ask me. When they can't do something, they forward it to me. When they're getting an error message, they'll send it to me. When they can't handle the situation, they forward it to me. When they can't handle the irate customers, they send it to me. I do all types of work. I'm an agent, helpdesk, IT, administrative assistant, leam leader and manager in one. What a deal! Especially since my pay is equivalent to one agent, with no OT pay. Ha!

This is bad...

My Red Ballpen

I remember, there was a time my younger sister saw the piles of paper on my desk. I used to write a lot of poems and short stories when I have nothing better to do, which was almost everyday back then (cause I don't have a social life back in high school). She then told me, in a very bold voice that she too will write a poem. Me, being the writer in the family, challenged her.

She marched on to our dining table where she stayed for about ten minutes, a paper and a red pen in hand. After which she came to me and announced, "Ate, I have my poem na!"

I asked her to read it out to me, excited at what a grade schooler can come up with.

The poem went like:

I have a pen,
My pen is blue,
My pen is red,
My pen is blue and red.

Then I laughed.

Now, years after, I have a red pen in my hand, working my butt of here at the office, trying hard not to cry. I miss my little sister. The sister who used to sleep beside me, the sister who would listen to all my grown-up adventures with such candor, the sister who used to look up at me like I'm a super hero of some far-away land, my only sister who would write about red and blue pens.

I did a lot of mistakes in my life, and i regret most of them. I guess, i regret the time you lost your trust in me, your Ate. I hope one day, you'll grow more mature, that one day, you'll understand what happened to me and why it happened. And maybe, we can talk about ballpens again.

You Who Used To Love Me

Dear You Who Used To Love Me,

How are you now? Are you getting better? Have you forgotten me and what it was like to love me? Have you forgiven me? Are you ready to trust again?

If you're going to ask me, I'm fine, I'm not any better, but I'm not getting any worse. And no, I haven't forgotten you, yes, you are forgiven and no, I can't trust anyone anymore.

I just wish that next time I see I won't see the anger anymore. I don't want to see your eyes with fiery rage, all of which are for me. I got mad, and did I hate you sometimes, but it never lasted as long as yours did. And the funny thing is, up til now, I can't understand why.

And what's more perplexing for me is the finality that you gave me. When I want to get away from you, you'll always tell me I can't because we're supposed to be together. Everytime, that's what you will tell me. That's when I realized that starting a relationship is a mutual decision. One can't be in a relationship when the partner is unwilling, and I supposed, because of how you acted, that it's the same with break-ups. That a break-up should be a mutual decision between the parties involved. So I always stay, because you're not willing, and you would forever convince me it's worth it.

Now, it's your turn to call the shots. Abd I have no say in the matter. I have no say in the break-up where I am the only other party.

We would come now to the next most perplexing thing regarding this relationship. If I tell you what I just noted above, I'm sure you will say that we can stay together if that's what I want but I can't expect anything from you. You will do anything and everything to make me break up with you. You won't even consider putting any type of effort in order to make this work. Why so? I tried to make it work when you asked me to stay, right? What makes you indifferent to the rules of the game we both devised?

When you get sick, I take care of you. I didn't count the times I needed to take care of you, I didn't stop even when I have classes, even when I didn't have money. Now, I got sick, and you'll tell me I can get sick as long as it's not in your presence? Why so? Don't you think it's selfish of you that you're always taken cared of when you're sick but you're not willing to return the favor just because you got tired?

I have so much questions in my mind. I can think of thousands of facts that I need clarification on. I wish it's as simple as you're making me believe it is. "kung ayaw mo, wag mo" won't work with love. I'm sorry, but I will fight you still. I can't accept defeat just yet.


I Who Still Feels

Dreaming Insomiac II

I was able to finally sleep. Eleven hours of dreamless heaven brought back a bit of my sanity and calmed my overly stressed heart.

The other day, I twisted and turned on my bed. I tried reading Tai-Pan by James Clavell for a few minutes but realized it's not helping me relax any bit. I changed my bed sheets. I went back to twisting and turning. I went to my table and started making plans for the apartments that my Uncle plans on building. After two, not just one but two, optional plans that I can present to him this weekend I went back to bed. Again, I started my twisting ang turning. At this point, I realized this is becoming ruthless.

I need all the sleep I can get. How can go to work and do an outstanding job if my eyes are forever droopy? I need to sleep. I need to rest.

After another hour or so, I reached for the phone. I called a good friend who was more than happy to accompany me for a few minutes even when I am robbing him of his own sleep. Then we said goodbye, armed with his wishes of a few hours worth of sleep.

I went back to bed. I laid as still as I can. Half an hour later, my legs are tingling and my left arm's aching, I think I lost my neck and my head hurts like hell.

So I stood at the foot of my bed and cursed every single dust mite that is living there. I took my shower, ate my dinner, got dressed and went to work.

I'm no longer a dreaming insomiac. I'm a working insomiac by fate.

Squeeze!

I want to squeeze the life out of my body. I want to crush my lungs and bend my neck to reach a dreamless high. I want to close my eyes forever.

You held me, you kissed me, you loved me. After one night of deep thinking, you arms are taking the breath out my chest, your lips are sheding drops of poison on my tongue, your hate kills the spirit that I am.

Don't blame me for your pains. I will gladly take them on, if you'll only allow me. Don't blame me for following. I don't want to look back and see a coward who just watched. Don't blame me for being me, becuase up til now, despite who you are, I still feel for you.

Missing Me

I miss myself. I miss the old me. I miss the way I was.

I miss the sound of my hearty laugh whenever I feel giddy inside. I miss the sparkle in my eyes when I catch myself staring at the mirror. I miss the warmth of my voice as I hear myself talk. I miss the dreams that lingers in my memory when I wake up in the middle of the night. I miss the self that I've come to know and care for. I miss being that person.

I don't know when i stopped being me. I don't know if it happened gradually, without me knowing that every sunset changes me, or if it happened overnight without me knowing that I'm suddenly different. But most of all, I don't know how to get it all back.

Unlike most people, I changed for the worse. I'm different, but not in a good way. I'm different and I'm not happy. Turning into who I am today is not something to be proud of. I don't like me anymore.

I don't like the dryness I hear whenever I chuckle. I don't like the tears that mingles on my lids. I don't like the lines that I see when I face the mirror. I don't like the acid that drips from my tongue. I don't like the emptiness I feel when I wake up from my sleep. I don't like the person I've suddenly become.

I don't know the person I am. I don't know who I'm with anymore. I don't know where I'm going to. I don't even remember that special place I've been from. Instead of finding who I am, I lost all sense of self. I'm lost.

When you're not working at work...

I try to be the best I am in everything I do. Even if that something that needs to be done is something nobody wants to do. Let's just say that I give new meaning to the phrase "doing the dirty work." I don't just do it, I make sure I'm doing a great job.

I don't like my job that much. It could be worse, i know, but it's not my calling. The best part though of my work now, is it's harder to pretend that I am working when all my "work" is already done. See?! I'm that good. I can finish my alloted work for the day after 2 hours. The rest of the day, I work on trying to look like I'm working.

Don't get me wrong. It's not that I don't have enough work. Sometimes I find myself neck deep in shit. But, since I'm doing such a swell job, I always finish everything on time. SUper ahead of time.

When I think I can't handle 20 papers today, then I get smacked with 25 papers, I will finish it 2 minutes before end of my shift. Then the next day, I'll see 30 papers in front of me, and I would think I'll only get to the 25th paper then, I might need to finish the rest the next day. Then 6 minutes before the end of my shift, I'm done! Isn't it the most amazing thing? How I can make sure that everything is done on time? But believe me, once you get used to that, when things are slower, like today, it's a lot harder to pretend that you're working when you're really not.

What to Choose?

What to choose? What to do? Whom to go to? What to say? When to stop? Why me?!?!!

I can't think of any reason why I should go on with my life. Everything is just wrong. Everything I thought I want is not what I really want. Everything I thought I need is not what I really needed. Everything I thought would make me happy is not what would make me happy. Everything is just plain wrong.

I want to live without him. I want to get out of his shadows. I want to forget that I ever had him with me. I want to forgive myself for believing he is the one for me. I want to forgive myself for giving him all the chances in the world. I want to forgive myself for being so vulnerable.

After all the musings, after all the explanations, after all the trouble of overanalyzing, it would come down to one thing...I am willing to sacrifice everthing just for a morsel of love and attention.

And when I think of that, I get depressed. I am not only alone, but I am hopeless.

Tired? You don't know what TIRED is?!

I'm so tired I can just fall asleep right this very moment, on this very chair I'm sitting on, wearing this very tired look on my tired face. I can't imagine anyone who would say that he/she is tired, if they're not me. I'm the only person that has a license to use that word because right this very moment, I'm so tired I'm falling asleep.

When To Say Sorry

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry I realized I can never give you what you wanted, when what you wanted is a selfish reflection of your idolized self worth.

I'm sorry I made a mistake when I promised you forever, when what you wanted is seamless time to be with your insane personal misgivings.

I'm sorry I asked heaven to bring you forth to me, when the place you're walking towards to is not my destiny but my intoxicating dream of unreality.

I'm sorry I gave you what I thought was due to someone as precious as you. I regret ever meeting someone, whom I loved, I cherished, I cared for. I regret meeting the one that is you.