Out of My League

I’m in a crisis. I think I’m falling for someone who’s totally out of my league. Lately, I’ve been finding myself looking for ways to spend more time with this guy. This isn’t your ordinary falling for the guy story. This is the Give-it-to-Eunice-to-find-ways-to-screw-things-up story. Why is he out of my league? Let’s just say his interests don’t in any way involve me. I can’t believe I’m actually putting this into writing, this will definitely screw things up if he finds out. What am I thinking? I can’t let another friendship get ruined because of my stupid preferences for men. I cannot make this happen. I cannot acknowledge this stupid admiration. 

Let’s see, this isn’t the first time that I’ve been infatuated with men who will never be interested in me, I just don’t admit them openly. For example, this writer guy I’ve been admiring made me go to Powerbooks daily just to indulge in the idea that we might bump into each other. We had a promising beginning, I mean we conversed really well. But hey, he’s almost perfect. He’s gorgeous, intelligent, funny and popular. I am uh, popular at times, smart at times but gorgeous? Err, at times. (Nge.)

I don’t know if this is a good idea. Must find someone else to crush on, or I will end up losing a very dear buddy. STOP, STOP. STOP.

Surprise! I MOVED ON..

Sometimes, it’s your friends -- or in my case the people around me—who can’t move on. Well, we can’t really blame them. Taking into consideration every little ranting they had to endure while I was “allegedly in love” with Basketball Guy, (Yeah, he’s not “he-who-must-not-be-remembered” anymore) it must be really hard for them to believe that I have seamlessly moved on. How can I possibly forget him that easily after writing such a heartfelt (by heartfelt I mean, over the top, cheesier than the cheesiest letter, almost stalker-like) letter? Oh well, my fault. So, in the spirit of pure fun, lemme enumerate the things that can validate the claim of the “once-in-love” that they have really left the past behind.


  1. You can say his name once again without turning the situation into a SOAP OPERA MOMENT. A soap opera moment involves the looking away while staring at emptiness and showing a grim smile action.
  2. You can look at all your pictures together –unless you have burned, torn or if it’s digital, deleted everything – without feeling the urge to guess what, BURN, TEAR or DELETE it. Or without imagining him with yellow teeth, nose hair or uhmm, body odor.
  3. You begin to do the things you tried doing to further endear you to him but this time, because you really want to do them. e.g. being sporty, staying at home, going to prayer meetings, dressing down or losing weight. 
  4. You can sing the songs that remind you of his past existence and influence in your life. These are the songs you vowed not to sing again, the songs you have convinced yourself to be irrelevant to your present life. It may be romantic or plain related to any memory you have with him. e.g. Parokya ni Edgar’s Yes,Yes Show because you sang it together at MTV’s Mic Mo ‘to or Sugarfree’s Mariposa because you thought that he purposely sang the “ayoko na mag-isa” part for you to hear.
  5. You start talking to his friends again after suffering the humiliation of being dumped. You swore that you won’t have anything to do with them because you were so sure that he said bad things about you while hanging out at some rest house beside the pool. You admit that you might be overreacting. But you will still exert extra effort to prove these [imaginary] bad things he said wrong.
  6. You stop relating his name to your past pseudo romantic [mis]adventures to prove that it must be one reason why it never worked out. e.g. Arthur Gabriel -> Angelo Gutierrez.. both A.G. Then it continues to Arthur – Angelo – Anthony. I won’t date anyone whose name starts with “A” again.. or uhmm, Angelo – Christian (wont date anyone whose name is in a way religious) P-A-T-H-E-T-I-C.
  7. You stop deleting his name in your phonebook or in your address book to no avail because you know that you know his number or his email address by heart.
  8. You stop checking out his profile while comparing yourself to the woman who’s with him in his uploaded pictures and while secretly hoping that like you, he’s also single and looking. Or, you stop posting all these messages in the Bulletin Board secretly wishing that he’ll read it and realize that he’s a prick for letting you go.
  9. You start dating men without thinking of how your ex’ll react to seeing you with that other guy. You don’t date new guys just so you’ll have an accessory to your highly- anticipated plot of revenge against him for breaking your heart.
  10. Lastly, your recent journal entries do not in any way include his name. There are no “I’m-so-over-him” articles like this and there are no “I-can’t-believe-I-was-in-love” rantings.


Oh shit.

Misery

White walls, air from a desk fan, music from the radio,
A personal computer’s beep, the telephone’s dial tone,
The aroma of a cup of coffee, a cd rack, picture frames
Everything’s perfect and I’m not part of everything.

Verticality

The skies are clear, clouds aren’t crying. I was one minute relaxing when I found myself falling. I can’t help but  imagine how I can finally be one with the corals strong enough to provide shelter to my seemingly helpless existence. I’m slowly appreciating the façade that I made to stubbornly linger. From the violent currents, soft waves and cold breeze, I’m gliding and riding. Birds are chirping and distracting. I’m hearing schools of fish weep while patiently waiting. I’m like an angel falling.

This is a dance, I’m floating and just enjoying the rhythm.

There is No Conflict

Some activists love some economists because they
have the same ideals. Never would they
stay in their air-conditioned rooms,
shut their mouths about the
fight for greater state subsidy, wage hikes and unfeasible proposals expressed through pat-
riotic chants, passionate jingles, prop-
hetic rantings and passionate cries. ‘Wag Matakot! Makibaka!
Contrary to popular belief there is no conflict between them
Some economists love some activists because
whenever it’s time to sit down and talk
they’d rather rally in Mendiola, wearing red shirts every single day without
thinking of themselves.
Thoroughly analyzing the negative effects of such actions.
More people love activists because
they are more visible,thus demonstrating
in their humble ways
how more concerned they are than economists who exude apathy,
who are more anxious of their own welfare,
thinking of how they can make noise by capitalizing on mere theories
by not being open to the other side of the story.
There is
no
tension between them, there will
never
be a serious misunderstanding, because despite the-
fact that their ideas may clash, in the end, the-
ir common interests on achieving the betterment of the majority
will result to more stability and less
confusion will be manifested.I say, let things be.
What is life without a little tension?
We are all Filipinos,
to hell with the Fiscal crisis, to hell with the economic collapse,
to hell with differences in beliefs, to hell with the internal turmoil,
it’s time that we become more laid back,
forget about our problems, let’s
not even attempt to
continue fighting together for our future.
Whatis there to save anyway?
will we lose? That I don’t know.
I think we’re good losers. Don’t ask me. Why
are we in this together?
We’re Filipinos.
We’re Filipinos, that I’m sure of. There is
Mutual respect between Economists and activists. There is no
Conflict! it’s an old issue.
Parang issue ng alin ang nauna, itlog ba o manok?
We’ve got a bunch of newer concerns
but like the archive of the all-time fave issues
it’s never resolved, just pondered upon.

Natural!

“Gusto mo ba magkaanak?” My friend Atoy asked while munching on his Quarter Pounder. We were enjoying our meal in McDo after a sort of tiring process we had to go through to get my permit for the UP Law Aptitude Exam this Sunday.

“Natural!” Without really thinking about it, partly because I was concentrating on my chicken McDo and partly because I do want to have a child.

Then with wide eyes and a bewildered look he said, “Natural? Bakit natural? Why natural?”

“ Natural, bakit hindi? Because I want to have kids. Because I want to have a family.” I said, feeling the need to explain my side because I think I’m being judged. Haha, by Atoy, my dear friend.

“You’re like Carrie (Bradshaw, Sex and the City) , you tend to mix what you want with what the society dictates you should want.

That got me into thinking, what do I really want? did I say yes I wanna have kids because I felt pressured by the fact that it’s what’s expected of someone after she becomes successful with her career and gets married? How do we separate ourselves from what we truly want and what we want to just show people that we are living an ok life? In a world where everyone’s influenced by everyone, how do we make sure that WE ARE STILL LIVING A LIFE WE WANT? Are we decision makers or decision takers?

As for me, I do want to have kids. I’m even taking up Creative Writing for Children to make sure that I can write something for my kids someday. It is natural for me because I love having kids around but where did this come from? If I don’t end up getting married someday would I feel so shattered? What if I can't get pregnant, would adoption feel the same as actually bearing a child?

Errr, I don’t even have a man in my life. Why am I thinking of getting pregnant? Oh well, I guess it’s just me. now, back to my coffee crumble.

The Virgin(a sequel to the original short story)



“Krrrr-ii-nnnnggggg!” The alarm clock rang loudly as if it wanted to sink into Ms. Mijares’ mind. Slowly, she opened her eyes and tried to adjust to the dimness of the room.

“A dream.” She thought. Flashbacks came up, the whispers of admiration, whines, bodies entwining. She couldn’t help but fancy for it to be true. God knows how much she was willing to give up just to be lost in the man’s embrace once again. Then she felt a warm hand on her stomach, it wasn’t hers.

“Did you sleep well?” The man asked her flirtatiously, as he stroke Ms. Mijares’ hair. She turned to see if she really heard someone , and he was there, half-naked, sharing the bed with her. The carpenter, the man whom, in the darkness, she turned to , the man who made her flesh leap.

“I must be going, I’ll be late for work,” She struggled to get on her feet and absent-mindedly went inside the shower. She tried to conceal the panic that was creeping in her. “If you’re hungry just help yourself and get whatever you want from the kitchen.” She added, just before turning the shower on. She was shuddering, not because the water was cold but because what just happened wasn’t a dream but a reality. Then, her panic turned into nauseating happiness, her qualms were washed away as the water flowed through her body.

Thrilled, Ms. Mijares dressed up hurriedly and fervently looked for her man. Yet, he was nowhere to be found. She got her things and headed out, wondering.

At the office, she went directly to the shanty. Ato, her foreman, approached her with a bemused look. “Down here early Ms. Mijares?” he commented.

“I just wanted to check if things are okay in here, Ato,” she babbled while her eyes wandered around. “Are all the workers here now?”

“Why of course Ms. Mijares, they’re all here. Are you looking for someone in particular?” He interrogated.

Blushing, Ms. Mijares smiled and replied, “No ,just making sure.” She went back into her office, dismayed, while her mind was full of questioning thoughts.

Time passed and Ms. Mijares never heard a word from the carpenter. The man who snatched her virginity and showed her what she was missing. Every night came as a burden to her, knowing that she would long for his hands and the flame that they lit as he felt and caressed her. She felt used, taken for granted and juvenile; still, she wanted him to feel her once more. Then, the encounter came.

The sky was murky; clouds covered the night and the rain was hammering hard. She got into a jeepney, half-hoping she’d be lost again. “How are you, Ms. Mijares?” A familiar voice startled her.

“Mama, stop the jeep please.” She hurried out and walked as fast as she could. She was soaked and cold, tears of resentment and desire fell from her eyes. Then she felt a strong grasp on her arms.

“Where are you going? Why are you running away?” Finally, they were face to face. The man’s eyes made her drown into a pool of passion. He unleashed the emotions that were deep inside of her.

“How dare you ask me that! Don’t you think I should be the one asking these questions? Where did you go, you user!” She shouted, quivering. The man looked at her straight in the eyes, held her hand and sighed. “Don’t you dare touch me again! What would you do, say sorry and expect me to forgive you just like that?!” She was really crying hard, every word made her tremble.

“I got scared. I’m not asking you to forgive but you have to listen to me.” His eyes were red, tears were beginning to form. “I thought things happened too fast. There was too much passion, too much attraction. I didn’t know if I could handle it, I got scared that I might screw things up,” He explained with full emotion. “I’m sorry that I was such a coward, but please… give me the CHANCE.”

They looked into each other’s eyes. The rain poured with much vigor, the whole world turned into darkness. The wind blew hard, as the rain kissed the ground ardently, water and earth became one. The moon wasn’t there, but tomorrow, the sun will shine to give light to their lost hearts…

-The End-

Ego

Then,
T’ was once taken care of, lulled to sleep,
Fed like a baby so innocent and frail;
Now,
It’s crumpled, torn and thrown away.
My ego, my strength.. I’m strong no more.

It’s not THEM, it’s ME!



“Hey gurl! Everytime I see you, you always look so yummy.” My friend Sandi said while we were both looking at our reflections in the UP Faculty Center’s washroom.

“I know,” I jokingly replied while applying my favorite lip gloss.

Then she asked the forbidden question, “So, you have a Papa now?”

“ Nah, I don’t have one. Set me up with the men you know.” I was hoping she’ll say, Yeah, I know someone perfect for you.

But instead she said, “You look so intimidating kasi.”

End of story.

----------------

I look intimidating, men wouldn’t date me..

I look intimidating because I’m yummy, men wouldn’t date me..
ALL TOGETHER NOW!

Eunice looks intimidating because she has great fashion sense, she looks so yummy, MEN WOULDN’T DATE HER.

I am a great catch, I know I’m intelligent, I look pretty ok, I’m the best you’ll ever have. I know YOU WOULDN’T DARE DATE ME..

Grrrrrrrrrr!

If I smell bad, and I’m really baduy and I’m totally dumb.. WOULD MEN start DATING ME?
Didn’t think so,, so what the hell am I supposed to do?

---------------------

I am freaking out, this world is really crazy..

Oooh, don’t look too good, you might scare men away. Oooh, don’t be too eloquent, you might scare men away.. Ooooh, why are you wearing that? It’s so last season, men don’t want baduy girls.. ooooh, don’t ever let these men know that you don’t know enough, they will take it against you.

-----------------

Aaaaaaaaargh, not a good day. NO MEN, NO DATE, NO HUMAN WARMTH.. Human warmth! I soooooooooo neeeeeed it….

Solitude

I would often say that I’m a social butterfly, that I love social interactions. That I don’t have problems with respect to relating to people and that I love to just plain mingle. Right now, I feel the exact opposite. I’m not really in the mood to get to know new people. I’m not even in the mood to meet up with my old friends. I don’t know why, but I am actually enjoying my solitude. My being a nobody in a world of somebody’s. I’m just enjoying my being invisible, my being the silent Eunice. Well, I still love making people laugh, I still enjoy conversations but lately, I’ve been finding myself enjoying my time with myself. Whether I’m shopping in my favorite ukay-ukay, or plain buying DVDs or just watching TV at home, I find it so rejuvenating. So refreshing, so relaxing. I guess I’m in my phase of my life where I’m slowly discovering how fun it is to give attention to MY NEEDS. This maybe the phase in my life where I just wanna keep my friends, cherish them and stop adding friends to my list of Friendsters. I don’t think this is mere bumming around, it’s knowing what matters.

Ever felt like you’re doing something not for the heck of it (like everyone says) but because you feel it’s a preparation for something big? That’s what I’m feeling, I’m here because I know I’m in for some tough times in the very near future.
My friend sent me an article in friendster. T’was about pseudo-relationships, flings, almost love stories. I couldn’t help but think how it has become the story of my life, I guess because I never really experienced the whole process of courtship. I’ve been very vocal about my not totally approving of the idea of courtship. That’s why my relationships lack commitment, they’re all too vague. That’s why I’m not sure if I’ve ever been truly in love. All symptoms of pseudo relationships are in my past almost love stories. Before, I would feel bad thinking that I’m just a meantime girl. the girl between the past love and the future love but never the present love. I dunno if it’s me or am I just meeting the wrong men? Why am I always stuck with, “enjoying each other’s company” and “plain hanging out (w/ occasional holding hands and cuddling)? Why do I always end up knowin about my guy’s intention after all traces of his intentions are gone? (yes, like this guy I thought wasn’t interested. He told me he was totally attracted, and he thought I knew). Who dictates what a pseudo-relationship and a real relationship is?

The Start of Another Season,,

I just finished watching all 18 episodes of Sex and the City’s Season 4 (today, yup.. im an official bum. Watchin dvd’s for 8 hours) and though I already know what’s gonna happen in seasons 5 and 6 I still couldn’t help but feel bad for Carrie Bradshaw. The season ended with Big leaving New York, I was struck by what Charlotte said. That she thought Carrie and Big’ll end up together because though they made mistakes, they’re meant for each other. It’s just so weird because lately, I’ve been hearing Alicia Keys and User’s My Boo everywhere. “ there’s always that one person that will always have your heart. You’ll never see it coming ‘coz you’re blinded from the start.” Err, sorry can’t relate. I would’ve believed that about two years ago when I was agonizing on my alleged love for my so-called best guy friend, but now, looking back.. I don’t think there’s any guy in my past that I would want to end up with. Not even my long time crush, “one-moment-he’s-here-one-moment-he’s-nonexistent” childhood fantasy. Am I too jaded? Am I really blinded? Just like Carrie, should I be involved with Aidan “too good to be true”, the Jazz guy, Jack “insecure” Berger and the Russian “totally rich and artsy” guy first before I finally get reunited with Big? Who is BIG in my life anyway?

I’ve always wanted Carrie and Big to be together, Big is the epitome of a man I would want to end up with. He makes Carrie think, he is financially-stable, funny at times, always there when Carrie needs him, doesn’t drool over Carrie and is good in bed. I would want someone who will call me Kiddo without looking at me like I’m one inexperienced woman. I want a guy who can spend the night with me and really talk to me. Someone who’ll have control over me without totally shoving it to my face. Someone who’ll also play “Moon river” out of nowhere thinking that it isn’t corny but “CLASSIC”. I guess I’m a hybrid of Carrie and Miranda. I’m a future lawyer anyway, so in no time, I would have to think and act like Miranda. I don’t even think if it’s a good combination since I don’t have a Steve in my life who would still wanna give me a “mercy-fuck” when I’m pregnant and horny without a husband. (creepy) just like Miranda, I’m not really into the whole Baby Shower thing, I don’t think I would want to give my career up for my love life, not even for a great family life. I don’t think I’ll be a plain housewife.

It’s funny that now I’m admitting all these things. Not too long ago, I was ok with the idea of totally concentrating on a family life if ever I get married. But now, I have changed. I don’t see anything wrong with same sex marriage anymore, and I don’t think it should be a matter of religion. I don’t see anything wrong with divorce anymore especially now that I’m aware of how many marriages are just not working. I’m not against premarital sex anymore (though I’m still not doing it) because I know a lot of wonderful people who are doing it and are in no way living shitty lives. I don’t see women who had abortion as totally sinful persons because for as long as what they did became an eye-opener for them and it became a reminder for them to be responsible for their actions then I guess the guilt and anguish that they had to go through made them suffer enough. I don’t take it against people that they’re atheists anymore because just like me, they just chose to take the path that they think would be more appropriate for them. In fact I admire them for surviving a life which isn’t dependent on miracles. I must admit that this is far from the Eunice that I once knew, but whether I want to admit it or not, I like the new Eunice more.

I guess through the years, I have become more open to a lot of things. Just like the evolution of my love for Sex and the City, I have evolved into someone who isn’t too judgmental. Someone who acknowledges that my beliefs don’t represent and should never represent the beliefs of other people. I’d like to think I’ve become more tolerant, more level-headed. I’m ready to try new things now, I’m not getting any younger. I don’t know if I’ll find my Big, I don’t know if I’ll be as tough as Miranda, or as sexually-satisfied as Samantha or as family-oriented as Charlotte, nobody knows. But hey, I can always watch my DVDs and try to look back when I’m 30 that when I was twenty, I was intelligent enough to stop and think. Err, I wish I can write for Vogue too.

Now, where can I download the MP3 of Moon river?

All Stressed Out,

I hate it when people look at me as if I’m some kind of a useless person just because I’m not as harassed-looking as they are. We don’t have to talk about the things that we do just so people’ll start believing that we in fact are productive beings right? I don’t live for them anyway, and they can’t even give me high grades. Yes, I don’t work every single day of my life, I must admit that I have a pretty laidback lifestyle. But for Christ’s sake, when I say I’m working on it, I mean it! Err, I don’t mean to sound so whiny and bitchy but the thing is, I’m sick and this headache is killing me. my hyperacidity is annoyingly emerging again and I can’t think straight. Now, smile.My last semester as a college student has officially begun and I feel like I’m in Cloud 9. I love my subjects, I love my solitude and I love the idea that sooner or later, I’ll be in law school. Woohoo! Yes, I’m actively dating and no, I haven’t found anyone I would wanna go into a relationship with. Why? Because (fill in the blanks) . The guy I’m crushing on never goes online anymore, I guess he’s busy with school and his work. Waaaah, I need to get his number. The suspense is killing me, he’s sooo cute. I’m cutting this crap right now. Now na!

This Sunday I’ll be taking the Law Aptitude Exam for my aspirations to become a UP Law graduate, I haven’t completed my requirements yet and this is all my fault. I wanna believe that I can still make it without reviewing and without an exceptional Transcript of Records but I don’t know if I’m lucky enough. I want to be in UP Law so badly that I feel like I’ll lose my interest in becoming a lawyer if I don’t pass the LAE. No, I’m exaggerating. Being a lawyer is something which keeps me going. UP Law, Ateneo Law, Beda Law.. it wont matter, I will top the bar exams ( naks, feeling!) Is this what I want? What if in the end, the realization that I’m chasing the wrong rainbow all along becomes clear to me? will I have the strength to pursue another dream? Life can’t be too predictable right? Well, mine has been pretty predictable. So I guess the rough times are coming. I felt bothered this afternoon, I went to my Industrial Organization Class (Econ 161) and told a friend that I’m so happy cause I already got my TCG and Certificate of Graduation for LAE. Then he said, “why are you announcing it? Not a lot of people are proud that they’ll take the LAE coz they don’t wanna suffer the humiliation of failing it and of people knowing that they failed.” I was skeptical, because I strongly believe that there’s nothing humiliating in trying. If I fail then there’s nothing to be ashamed of, at least I tried. Why should other people’s opinions discourage me from being proud that I did pursue what I want? Are people as judgmental as how we are made to believe by our society? I must admit that I, myself can be very judgmental at times, but I make it a point to go deeper into where my impressions are coming from and I try to correct it. Should we be afraid of defeat? Should we all be on our guards? It all boils down to our tolerance. Our tolerance of being judged, of being talked about, of being frowned upon.

Are we really FREE? Or are we as free as a child being scolded by some know-it-all elders? In a world where being successful is the only commendable thing, is defeat a sign of pure weakness? Or... is failure a more effective way to test strength? Should we be greatly bothered by our failures?

DEHYDRATED

I have deprived myself of water.
Anything flowing, moist or glistening
awakens an inexplicable sense of rage,
confusion, longing.
My dry, flaky skin almost powdered
To its shame reminds me of sand;
Every strand of hair has a story infinite in number
Never a panacea.

Did you deliberately die to mock me?I imagine you to be caressing her,
Holding on to her like some immortal,
Whose touch you have blissfully anticipated.
She has stolen your last breath, like Taking away the last cookie in my cookie jar.
You gasped with her, drowned with her,
Together, you moaned, never halted, just died.

I could’ve just choked you with a pillow and
Let you wither on our lucrative water bed,
You should’ve told me you wanted to die like that.
I would’ve stabbed you while we’re exploring each other,
Taking a shower with bodies entwined
Lubricated by water gushing out, suds all over.
I would’ve put poison in your coffee and
Let it sip away what superficial life
You have forced me to live.

I thought WE lived,
You have nourished me, rained on me;
Only to suck whatever was flowing inside of me.
Saliva, urine, blood –contaminated.
Poison seeping through.
Forcing its way through my semi-permeable membrane.

I have deprived myself of water,
Your presence haunts me and your laughter
Has continuously mocked my faith
In a life which you have mindlessly
destroyed and wasted.
I have deprived myself of water,
not because it drowned you but because
it exposed the mud behind what seemed to be something pure.
I have deprived myself of water,
By doing so, I am able to celebrate
Your death.
For I will die not because of water and its existence,
Only due to lack thereof.

Mango Shake and Mocha Frappuccino

I wait for a stranger whose touch
Never lingered
An image of such serendipitous
Moments, there’s too much
atrocity in my world
Of what if’s and what might have been’s
His weapon’s a pen, mine’s paper
I’m but a fan, a reader
Contemplating on why the cover
Of a book has the same color as
The mango shake on my table.

I never dream, I only hope.
Dreaming is such a painful
process which in the end
might put me into a coma.
I never cry but I grieve.
Tears are remnants of my
Mocha frapuccino overdose.
I wait for a shadow, a name,
An entity.
If he comes, I don’t think
I will be happy. I never seek
For happiness, it seeks
Me. I never
Seek for him, neither
does he.
Brown and yellow look
good together.

Line Dead


I’m thinking of you.
“You seem preoccupied.”
~Line dead,
should I call you back?
“Ok,”
~Line dead,
I’m afraid of change
“ha,ha,ha..”
~Line dead
Why are you mocking me?
“it’s for me to know and for you to find out.”
~Line dead.
You’re scaring me.
“Why?”
~Line dead
You’re change personified.
“Am I?”
~Line dead.

Whoa, I’m an Economist!

Nine freaggin’ units left and I’m technically an “Economist”. Whether I like it or not, I’ve grown to love my course. Being in a way knowledgeable in Economics (especially in a third-world country) has its perks. One would be that you can actually read the Business section of the newspaper and comment on anything which involves Economics and oter related fields (like, uhmm, sex? Hehe). You can read The Economist without the fear that you have no right to read it. A lot of people respect you because just like what you think when you were starting, it looks really hard. All these graphs can be confusing (you bet). But there’s one teeny-weeny problem that I fear I still have to address. I don’t think I want to be a full-time economist. I’m burdened by the fact that I don’t think what I learned is enough. I can’t even find a good topic for my thesis. Waah! Lemme see, Japhet and I were eyeing a thesis about Temporary Employment and I think it’s very timely. But there aren’t enough data! Grrrr.. it’s hard to actually be interested in the welfare of the masses because not a lot of people would want to admit that their welfare are really taken for granted. I also wanted to make a study regarding the Medium Term Development Plan of the Arroyo administration as compared to the past Administrations and the paper written by 11 of my professors, but I don’t know where to begin. Now I’m scared that I might get fucked up and I may not be able to finish a commendable thesis. Damn! If only I can get my act straight and start to really focus. Haaaay!

Still I’m a future economist, whether I like it or not. This is the path I’ve chosen, I might end up as a lawyer still, I am an economist. I know, I know, I should be happy. In fact I am! but I always end up thinking of what might have been. If I have taken up Creative Writing instead, or Journalism or Mass Communication, would I have been happier? If I took up Theater Arts instead, would I have been more successful? Oh well, I guess I have to settle for whatever I have accomplished right now. Hey, it’s still an accomplishment that I’m almost graduating right? Only, I would have wanted to graduate with honors. (sighs) I was browsing to some letters I kept from high school and something caught my eye. It was an envelope from Ms. Villaceran, my adviser when I was in Grade four. She gave it back to me when I was in my retreat in my 4th year in high school. It was a drawing I made myself. I drawing or my office as a future lawyer. I cant believe I’m one step closer to that dream. I’m still on the right track, almost there. As of the moment, all I can say is that.. Whoa! I’m ALMOST an Economist.. =P

Oktoberfest Mystery .. of beer, humiliation and fashion.



Last Friday, my friends and I decided to experience the alleged “fun” in going to the closing party of SMB’s Oktoberfest. Honestly, it was my idea to actually drag them into it since it’s our last Oktoberfest as Econ majors (sorry, I didn’t have a better reason). Lemme give you a blow by blow account of my night.

5pm : The Agony of Deciding on What to Wear: Skirt or pants? Carrie Bradshaw Tube top or see-through/ beach-inspired knitted top with yellow bikini underneath? Beige stilettos or pink mules? Pink bag or purse? In the end, I decided to dress up as Carrie so I settled with my Maong pants, funky belt, Pink [complicated]Tube top and my pink mules. Who cares if we’re expected to wear black? Who cares if it’s a rock concert? Who cares if I puke? At least these whole outfit blends with my curls. haha

6pm: The Scourging at the Fx: ok, I’m a commoner, I had to commute going to Megamall. I decided to ride the Fx in Pasig, I had to wait for 30 freaggin’ mins. Because not a lot of people are going to mega as commuters and the Fx had to fill all 10 seats. Great, just great! And to add insult to the whole situation, the traffic was really bad going to the mall. I was suffering ‘coz I can’t stretch my legs during the ride plus the woman seating next to me smells bad and she doesn’t wanna stop talking. I’m normally very patient but hey, we all have our saturation points right?

7:30: Crowning with Humiliation: Because I know that my friends won’t be arriving soon, I decided to spend my time reading The Last Order sa Penguin in Powerbooks. I was laughing alone and really enjoying it that I didn’t realize it was past 8pm. My friend Amitz arrived and we immediately decided to have dinner. Oops, it was too late before I realized that I haven’t paid yet. The woman in charge at the café was running after us while calling out to me. “Miss, Miss.. Ma’am, di pa po kayo bayad!”.Err, i wanted to die in embarrassment. Imagine everyone with their books taking a peek at who this stupid girl is, yeah the stupid girl’s me. haha… my friend Amitz, left me while I was paying. Ok, so much for being a friend.hahaha..

9pm: Carrying of the Whole Body: Amitz and I embarked on a journey of finding a cheap and peaceful place where we can eat dinner. And after almost an hour of walking, we decided to stop fooling ourselves because we can’t really find a place which isn’t crowded in Mega. Since we’re on a tight budget we decided to eat in Joillibee and found comfort in the fact that we haven’t eaten there for quite sometime.

10pm: Crucifixion and Death of our Hope: We really wanna try to go to the event, but the moment we saw how crowded and uninviting the crowd was, we changed our minds. We weren’t that interested to actually go through the process of mingling with these people. (Elitists! Haha) WE still wanted to look at the Avril Lavigne meets Matrix fashion sense of some people and we still wanted to feel of going to the party so we settled on something of a compromise. We decided to drink at the Mega Strip and spend the night coinversing and being the fashion police. Something really funny happened while we were on our way to the restaurant. We crossed paths with a group of weird-looking guys. One of them stopped in front of me and out of nowhere blurted out, “Conio!”… I was too surprised to react.. it was weird and funny at the same time. Oh well, it amused me.. haha.. we went home really late and though it wasn’t the experience I expected it to be, I must admit that I had fun. Having fun is relative anyway .haha..

Generation Why ohh Why Delilah!

A lot of things happened to me in the past days, I’ve been wanting to write something for this blog but my time (err, more like my mood) won’t permit me. Lemme start with this tiny feeling of admiration that I’m feeling for someone I met recently. I’ve always been attracted to writers / artists/ profound men and God has once again introduced me to an interesting guy. It’s not like I WILL FALL, but it’s just nice to wake up again with this giggly feeling that I might talk to him again during the day. Too early to talk about him, let’s move to something more “academic”…

Last Wednesday, I went to the Generation Why3 at the Ateneo De Manila University and tried to be a part of a group of young people trying to make a difference. As usual, my greatest concern was what should I wear, coz I was thinking that if we wanna make a change, I’d rather do it with fashion. Haha.. so, I decided to wear my red off-shoulder top, pink skirt with diagonal stripes and my pink mules. I was with my friend Bon, who was equally stunning in his own ensemble.

When we arrived, I was in a way disappointed because it seemed like only the speakers and the organizers are dressed for the part. I was glad that Tim Yap came ‘coz it gave me the reason to flaunt my fashion sense,haha.. I know, you might think that the students who came didn’t attend the conference with a fashion show in mind, but they could’ve at least exerted some effort right? They would wanna represent their own universities in style. But the bigger disappointment was the level of thinking displayed by some of the students who asked questions during the open forum...

Some where merely trying to show off by starting with.. “I know that… (blah,blah,blah)” and ends it with a, “ so, why (a question which is not in any way related to whatever the speaker talked about or something so shallow that anyone can deduce the fact that he just wanted to brag about something he knows)”. It was very disappointing because I didn’t see the point of trying to play the part of the intellectual with such lousy attempts. I’m no genius but at least I know when to ask the right questions. There were also those who wanted to play the part of the “activist” though it was obvious that they really have no idea what it takes to be a true-blue activist. It’s not just about opposing whoever is in power, it has to be opposition with the right reasons to back it up.

In the end, I had fun during the conference plus I had my own share of the limelight. I asked a question during the latter part of the conference ( I wanted everyone to know that someone from the UP School of Economics was there, harhar) about the Digital Divide and the Knowledge-driven economy, it was actually impromptu because the question I really wanted to ask was about the characteristics of the call center industry with respect to it not really solving the country’s problem of unemployment in a long term kind of way. Unfortunately, the person I wanted to ask left so I had to device a new question ( I didn’t wanna go back to my seat since I was already standing on the aisle and I was next). Besides the fact that the photographer took some pictures of me ( I hope to see it in Inquirer! Hehe), I was actually quoted by the closing speaker of the conference, Mr. Michael Tan from the UP Anthropology department. I was overwhelmed, because when he mentioned my name, almost everyone looked at me. Dyahe. Haha.. then, someone approached me and started to ask me a lot of funny questions. Hanep, sikat! Haha..

All Psyched Up

Seats away, I can almost imagine holding you
The way you browse through your things make
me want to throw it away and invade your seemingly calm entirety
Our eyes met in a number of instances and we
both looked away to break free from the humiliation
I like your bracelet, your blue shirt,
your ring, your unruly hair, your half smile--
Ohh that half smile makes me want to take a second look
to know if half of it is for me.
You stare intently at emptiness, pretending to listen and struggling
to control your yearning.You looked down and I stared,
Your seats away but I can almost imagine you beside me,
oblivious to anything but my stare.
Break free, move in emotional nudity.
I will clothe you, and if you ask me to, I will explore you.
You shall find out, you shall recognize your armored persona..
Then you shall strip, slowly but in an agonizingly
sweet surrender..
-to Mr. Psych..

Reflection

She’s but an
image portrayed and changed.
A chameleon, a mounted mirror. No
corners, no edges, continuous. Spontaneity
and confusion formed by suds. She can be
emptiness, a reflection of A white tiled wall.
Not a perfect reflection, spotted, wet.
Silent and loud. Subtle and mocking.
The mirror and the woman, their mere reflections are different
no more.

One Way Secret Affair

To deny one’s feelings is suicide.
Enthralling my defense would make my world crumble.
From the falls of uncertainty sprouts an inexplicable longing and grief.
Diversion is not a panacea, and neither is acknowledgment and assurance.
Melodious and moving, I capture your smile, I hold your hands in my hallucination…
Love isn’t a part of my plan and to get caught up in this is such an ignominy.
I am having an affair with you, nobody knows, not even you.

Depression 101

Depression isn’t just a state of mind nor of the heart but it’s a challenge one has to overcome. I feel that it’s normal because every person has this blank space in his life, unexplainable and totally indescribable. It’s like something is lacking and it takes sometime for one to figure out or even comprehend what it is.

I am normally a happy person, I find enjoyment in the littlest of things, but there are times when I feel that everything is just coming to an end. And the end is not something that I imagined from the start. Depression comes to me if I feel that I have turned into a big failure.

Ever felt the urge to look at your closet, arrange everything, neatly fold them and end up making bigger mess? ever tried to talk to a person to resolve the issues you have against each other and ending the conversation with the feeling that you just feel more hatred for the person in the same way that this person is also hating you more? Ever felt so helpless that there’s nothing you can do but cry, even if you have tried to rationalize everything and you have assured yourself that you’re not really doing bad? Ever felt like nobody appreciates you even if you are surrounded by people who never fail to make you feel loved and special? Felt this feeling of inadequacy knowing that there are just some things you can never accomplish which you have believed you will easily achieve before?

Everything just piles up, everything just emerges when you start contemplating about your life and all you see are the depressing aspects of it. I don’t even know why I’m writing this, maybe because I have time. That’s what I don’t like about solitude and free time, it gives me the chance wander into my insecure side. I appreciate my solitude, especially now that my life has been so fast-paced, so artificial, so superficial and so uhmm, intriguingly boring. Solitude keeps me alive, it keeps me from being caught up in these emotional rollarcoaster I made for myself. Where’s the merry go ‘round anyway?

The End of a Crisis

Things are kind of settled now. As always, God has guided me to what I should do. I prayed hard this morning and looked at my options. Should I just stop chatting, delete mg MIRC program? Should I ask for an attention-seeking public confrontation? Should I just keep quiet? But God told me to look at things in a different perspective, be open to the possibility of making things clearer by once again talking to this guy. That’s what I did…


MsEconomist> hey, i still think we should talk..
MsEconomist> in a more laidback way.. =)
delicatebeat> Sure
MsEconomist> ive been doin a lot of thinkin since last night, and well, i came to the conclusion that yeah i may have come out too strong or somewhat annoying to people.
MsEconomist> and i just wanna say that it's unintentional. can u tell those people that im sorry?
delicatebeat> Yep
delicatebeat>No Problem
delicatebeat>> :D
MsEconomist> are we ok now? i mean, i was really disappointed that people see me in a negative way..
MsEconomist> and when i said na im used to the treatment, i mean it.
MsEconomist> coz im very at ease with the people i interact with..
delicatebeat> Yeah, we ok now
MsEconomist> i had no idea na im annoying anyone,
delicatebeat>> Mmmm
delicatebeat>> Sometimes when we look at the mirror we don't see the bvious
delicatebeat>> Ganun talaga
MsEconomist> i guess that rough on the edges thing is in a way a reflection of my bein too game to talk about almost anythin..
delicatebeat>> Kaya most often i enlist someone to censor me
delicatebeat> Di ba?
MsEconomist> another thing i felt bad about was that nobody talked to me about it.
delicatebeat> Gagawa ka ng program let's say or a painting
delicatebeat>You want feedback from others
MsEconomist> im very open to that naman, i mean it wudve been better if they told me right there and then..
delicatebeat> Shemps you'd be subjective because it's your "baby"
delicatebeat> Same as with our attitudes
MsEconomist> i dont need people to be polite per se, i want them to be honest w/ me..
delicatebeat>> MsEconomist: They haven't got the nerve or the time
delicatebeat> Or prolly the concern
delicatebeat>> Not the same case with me
MsEconomist> because ive been very honest..
delicatebeat>> Kasi i have the time and the concern
MsEconomist> yeah, and thanks for pointing that out.
delicatebeat>> :D
MsEconomist> i never realized that they're that burdened by my presence..
MsEconomist> and i feel bad tat i have a negative effect on them.
delicatebeat> Not really burdened
delicatebeat>> Take the case of some person
delicatebeat> You do know what flaming is, don't you/
delicatebeat>> ?
MsEconomist> flaming?
MsEconomist> uhmm, i didnt quite get that..
delicatebeat> Flaming
delicatebeat> It's publicly dissing a person
MsEconomist> ohhh..
delicatebeat> Usually in forums and boards
delicatebeat> And e-mail
delicatebeat> And also applicable to chat
MsEconomist> it's kinda problematic for me, because i never had any intention to publicly diss anyone,, did it actually look like that when i comment on some stuff?
delicatebeat>> Well sometimes
delicatebeat>> Kaso i was too busy to play arbiter
MsEconomist> oh well, yeah i guess i should be more conscientious.. honestly, i never intended any of my replies to be offensive that's why i was dumbfounded last nyt.

I got disconnected, but it was a relief to actually talk to him again. At lest I know that he meant no harm. Though I’m still unhappy with the fact that he chose to publicly humiliate me first, I just thought that maybe I wouldn’t have paid attention if he didn’t do that. I’m ok now, ready to face the world again and wink at it. Another crisis has been resolved, I wonder what’ll be next…

Shadows

I’m in a dimly lit room, staring at the shadows that mock me. When innocence and foolishness collide into a conspiracy, loneliness exists, even in the company of friends. Camaraderie discreetly alienates and any "What if?" leaves you devastatingly disillusioned. When you are in a dimly lit room, don't be afraid to stare back at the shadows that mock you. Stare back, let these shadows crack. Be the light and command them not to come back.

Ang Laki Kasi ng Boobs Mo…

“The grass is always greener on the other side…” Totoo nga naman. Habang ang mga hindi masyadong “gifted” na mga kababaihan ay nagdadasal para biglang magsitubuan ang kanilang mga dibdib at habang ang karamihan ay gumagastos ng malaki para lang magpadagdag, ito ako at napapaisip sa kung ano ba ang magandang naidulot sa akin ng aking mga malulusog at mabibilog na hinaharap.

Mababaw na kung mababaw, pero aminin man ng iba o hindi, ang pagiging “gifted” o voluptuous ay may mga downsides. Hindi ko naman sinasabi na ayoko sa “kanila” (tinuturing ko sila na mga kapatid ko..) pero nagiging malaki rin silang pabigat sa aking pangaraw-araw na buhay, literal man o hindi. Ito ang ilan sa aking mga reklamo…

Kapag malaki ang boobs mo…

1. Nagiging malaswa ang kahit anong isuot mo, mapa-simpleng t-shirt man ito o peasant blouse. Talagang nakakadismaya ito sapagkat ang simplent spaghetti strap shirt na maganda namang tignan sa kapatid mo ay nagmimistulang kasuotan na naghahatid kasalanan kapag ikaw na ang may suot. In other words, isa kang malaking temptasyon.

2. Madalas sa hindi, naa-attract mo ang mga lalaking ayaw mo naman maattract, namely mga jeepney drivers, barker, konduktor, tambay sa kanto, manyakis na mga lalaki sa Bar etc. At ang totoo nito ay imbes na maging flattered ka ay nalo-low self esteem ka dahil feeling mo ay ang cheap mo na.

3. May mga pangarap na hindi mo na pwedeng matupad tulad ng pagiging isang mahusay na Ballerina, figure skater o gymnast o maging miyembro ng PEP Squad, unless puro split lang ang gagawin mo at hindi ko kailangan magtatalon. Dahil kung hindi, malamang ay tagtag na tagtag ang pakiramdam pagkatapos ng mga activity sa sports na nabanggit.

4. Hindi mo pwedeng bilhin ang mga magagandang bra na nakikita mo sa Genevieve Gozum sapagkat 1/3 lng ng boobs mo ang kasya dito at malamang sa hindi ay maghe-hello siya pag naging magalaw ka.

5. Mas malaki ang chance na maging kuba ka dahil sa bigat ng iyong dinadala.

6. Iniisip ng ibang tao na kaya ka niligawan ng kasama mong lalaki ay dahil natutuwa siya sa iyong “gift” o kaya naman ay iniisip ng mga hindi masyadong nakakakilala sa’yo na kaya mas maraming attracted sa’yo ay hindi dahil sa personality mo kundi sa boobs mo. (gaya nga ng sinabi ni Joyce Jimenez sa Narinig mo nb ang L8st,”My brain is bigger than my boobs”.. in other words, henyo ako.. harharhar!)

7. Madalas kang maging center of attraction lalo na kung nagkakakuwentuhan at malamang sa hindi ay nagiging katatawanan pa ang iyong mga mammary glands.

8. Hindi ka maaring matulog ng nakadapa unless naghahanap ka ng breast cancer. DI ka rin pede matulog sa klase sapagkat ang iyong boobs ay sasabit sa desk ng chair mo.

9. Awkward ang pakiramdam kahit na simpleng hug lang ang ibigay mo, lalo na kung sa opposite sex.

10. Last but not the least, lagi kang tatanungin ng kapwa mo babae kung totoo ba ang boobs mo at kung ano ang kinakain mo nung “growing up” years mo at lumaki yan ng ganyan… (mahilig ako sa patatas.. ewan ko lang kung naging factor un..)

Marami pa sana ako sasabihin pero ito na lang muna. Sa kabila ng lahat ng mga reklamo ko, masasabi kong masuwerte parin ako, at kung mabibigyan ako ng pagakataon na pumili between having big breasts and not, I’ll still choose to have it. Aba, kung flat-chested ako, then it would be a different story altogether…

Random Thoughts ng Pagpapanggap…

Carl’s Jr. SM Megamall 4:30 pm : I fear for you… Paulit-ulit na sinasabi sakin yan ng kaibigan ko tuwing magkasama kami. Tama naman siya, kahit ako natatakot ako para sa sarili ko, kasi gaya ng dati pumapasok nanaman ako sa isang sitwasyon na malamang sa hindi, ako nanaman ang talo. Pucha naman kasi, kung bakit sa dinami-rami ng pwedeng mahalin, bakit siya pa… Bakit ang “best friend” ko pa.

Pagmumuni-muni sa Kuwarto ko, 11 pm : Aminin na natin, hindi naman ako lang ang may dilemang ganito. Sa pananaw ko nga, ang dapat sisihin sa problema ko ay ang nagsabi na “Friendship is the foundation of Love.” Alam ko marami makakarelate kasi nga naman ang pagpapanggap madalas nangyayari sa mga magkakaibigan daw(?) na hindi na mapaghiwalay.

Ganito ang sitwasyon. Magkakilala na kami kinder 1 pa lang, sa totoo lang para siyang rabbit. Ang laki kaya ng ngipin nya, kaya ang tukso sa kanya Bugs Bunny e. Hindi kami close nun elementary pa kami, pero siya ang kauna-unahang lalaki na niyakap ko sa harap ng maraming tao. Kami kasi magkapartner sa isang skit naming noong grade five. Sa pagkakatanda ko, crush nya un isa naming friend, mala-diyosa un talagang lahat nagkakandarapa sa kanya. Hindi naman ako affected kasi may crush din naman akong iba nun no. Nung highschool, nagsimula kami mag-bonding, pero may girlfriend sya nun. Sabay pa nga kami nag-UPCAT, sabi pa nya ang dali lang daw, pero wag ka, ako ang pumasa at siya hindi. Hahaha.. pero di yun ang isyu, Nag-break sila nun gf nya, at talaga naming nagalit ako dun sa babae dahil isa syang salawahan pero cmpre, bilang kaibigan lang un. Tapos nun debut ko, kami nanaman ang magkasama namigay ng imbitasyon, akala nga nung iba kami na, pero gaya nga ng dati, paulit-ulit ko cnasabi na magkaibigan lang kami. Nun mismong araw ng debut ko, after ng party, magkadikit nanaman kami. Nagsisiksikan sa isang upuan at magkayakap, pero akap kaibigan lang un. Pagkatapos ng debut ko, madalas na siya tumawag, nanood kami ng sine, kumain sa labas pero bilang mag-best friends. Tapos, bigla siya nawala.

Bakit ako naging affected eh bestfriend ko lang sya? Kasi nga, di ko na namalayan, nain-love na pala ako sa kanya. Kung gaano kami ka-close nun buong summer, ganun naman kami ka-cold nun nagkaron ng pasok. Ginawa ko ang lahat para maka-move on, para ipakita sa sarili ko na magkaibigan lang talaga kami. Pagkatapos ng isang taon, summer nanaman. Sinabi ko na sa sarili ko na di ko na papayagan na masaktan nanaman ako...

Pagmomotmot sa Oz Café kasama ang barkada 4:30 pm: I fear for myself... Tumawag siya, I had to sound cheerful, kasi ayoko naman mapahiya. Kinukuwento niya na nasaktan nanaman siya, na may minahal siya kaya siya nawala. Tapos tinatanong niya kung bakit raw parang wala ako sa mood makipag-usap. Ano gagawin ko? E habang nagpapanggap ako na masaya ang tono ng boses ko, tumutulo naman ang luha ko, kasi kahit isang buong taon ko pinaghandaan ang muli naming pag-uusap, isang salita lang nya handa nanaman ako masaktan ulit.

Sa MRT, nakikinig sa Radio ng 6510: Di na nga natuto... Tama, bagay nga sakin yan. Kung bakit naman kasi walang course para patigasin ang puso. Kung ako na Lang Sana… Tama nanaman. Kasi hindi na sya nadala sa kaka-date ng iba, tapos pag nasaktan tsaka lang ako naaalala. Pucha talaga.

Sa harap ng PC ko : Marami talagang mga mapagpanggap sa mundo eh. Hindi ko alam kung may patutunguhan pa itong pagkakaibigan namin. Gusto ko na sana sabihin sa kanya, pero cmpre natatakot ako. E kung bigla nya ko pagtawanan? Sige, magpapanggap na lang ako. Di bale na maubos luha ko kakaiyak, kung hindi man maging kami balang-araw, wala na ko pakialam. Kailangan ko na matulog, manood pa kami ng sine ng bestfriend ko bukas...

One Summer Nightmare

“Wala ako money eh, katawan ko na lang gusto mo?” That was Carlo’s reply when I asked him of what he’d give me for my birthday. Yeah right, seeing his naked body would be more of a torture for me instead of a birthday gift. The thought of him in full nudity makes me sick to my stomach. I couldn’t help but laugh while I was lying on my bed, listening to Daniel Beddingfield’s If You’re Not the One that summer evening. The whole text conversation started when he sent me the message, “Stay as sweet as you are..” our of nowhere.

“Katawan mo? Di kaya parang abunado pa ko nyan? I texted back. Thinking that it would end the whole horny mood. I knew something was up, but I was basically in denial because Carlo was my classmate from Kinder 1 to 4th year high school and well, we belong to the same barkada.

“Oo nga pala, masarap ka. You know what Nice, I wanna be totally honest with you ‘coz you’re my friend. I would love to have sex with you.”

Where the f*ck did that come from? Sex? With me? What was he thinking? “Lasing ka ba? I refuse to continue this conversation dude, what did I do to make you say that? I’m a very open-minded person, but damn, you know very well that I don’t have plans of having sex in the near future. You should know that, we’ve been friends since forever!” I was shaking and I almost dropped my cellphone while trying to come up with a logical reason on why he had the nerves to say that.

“Sige, pero if you change your mind nandito lang ako. Sana you won’t feel awkward pag nagkita tayo, nothing has changed naman. I’m sorry, kasi simula ng na-devigrinize ako I can’t help it e. I can’t promise this won’t happen again, because.. Everytime I masturbate, I think of you.”

That was it! I closed my phone and refused to see what crap he would send me. I refuse to be sexually harassed through SMS by a sorry a$s who turned into some sex maniac just because some girl finally slept with him. I can’t believe he’s the same Carlo who was the Choir master and the friend that I had. Whether he was drunk or serious, I don’t give a damn. If he wants to have sex, he won’t get it from me. I didn’t tell my friends anything ‘bout this li’l encounter we had, I still care for him. It just made me realize how people can drastically change, all it takes is a little time, or maybe a little SEX.

Talk Trash

Life’s full of shit, yet I’m happy. No, this isn’t ‘bout me whining about how unfair life is. It’s also not about me trying to figure out a way on how to find Mr. Right. This is just about shit, pure and natural shit.

Sometimes, I find myself totally exhausted after one damn day of doing crap and talking trash. Yes, I’m still the goody-two-shoes girl that everyone has grown to admire and love. In fact, I’m still the same old boring me trying to find my way in this highway full of pathetic losers imitating everyone and performing in this one helluva movie. I refuse to be a part of this fairytale, I refuse to give in, I refuse to bow in such nonsense crap. I AM ME, no pretentions and no limitatations. I know my responsibilities, I know my priorities. But once in a while, I find myself doing stupid and out-of-this-world things.

My life has been monotonous, stuck in this monochromatic television where other people have the power to change channels. My life is another program in this world full of assholes and bitches that are so damn hard to please. Now, I crawl in one corner, looking for the bitchy side of me. Getting in touch with my “evil side” is quite enlightening. Yes, I do date, A LOT. But what I cant understand is the fact that people won’t understand me. Believe this, I am not a SLUT. Not now, not ever. I would never sleep around even if it’s what the world dictates. I love myself and I love my life. I don’t kiss guys, I don’t get fucked up. And I think it’s cool.

That’s what makes me different. I’m a virgin bitch in this world of horny, fucking assholes who just can’t wait but feel the deepest side of my flesh. I don’t wanna join the bandwagon of whores and sluts. Kiss my ass!!! I am a woman. I am a bitch. I can be one helluva lover, I can even make you itch. But then again in the end this is still me. The simple girl, talking trash and stuck in crazy me.

My Bestfriend Theory


Monsod’s Bestfriend theory states that, at one point in time, the bestfriends will have to go through a stage where they will fall for the other. if they're lucky, they'll go through it together but according to statistics it’s most probable that they’ll not fall at the same time. if they do fall in love in synchronicity, that's when the platonic relationship becomes a love story, but if one falls without great timing, it's a possible prelude to the end of a friendship..the ending lies on how they handle the situation, whether they'll just let it go, address it or wait ‘til the other also falls and they cross the line from being friends to lovers..


We’ve all been hearing all these “falling in love with the bestfriend” stories. From it being a success, a complete disaster or a one-sided melancholy. We have seen movies with the same premise, from the heart-wrenching “My Bestfriend’s Wedding” to Sharon and Aga’s “Kung ako na Lang Sana”. It can’t be an isolated case right? The Falling-in-love-with-the-bestfriend Phenomenon reached a universal state and everybody’s experiencing it, of course except those who don’t have a bestfriend, silly. I can blame it on whoever started the adage, Friendship is the foundation of love. Screw him/her, whoever he is. I don’t think friendship is the best groundwork of love, it’s an illusion, it’s a fallacy, a hasty generalization. Bestfriends fall in love for convenience, for lack of options or for mere boredom and exhaustion from the lifetime quest for the “LOVE OF HIS/HER LIFE”. It’s not about “Kung ako na lang sana” but it’s “Sige na nga, ikaw na lang.”. Got that?

Ok, a lot of people’ll probably disagree with me, of course nobody wants to be disenchanted. How more perfect can a love story be if it all started from being just friends? Then one sunny day, they just look at each other on a different way, one begins noticing how cute the smile of the bestfriend is, the other notices how they totally understand each other without uttering a single word. Then they both go home with a smile on their faces, lie on their beds, think of how dense they both are for not “paying attention” and for not realizing that “what they’ve been looking for is just right in front of them” (imagine the song For the First Time is playing in the background). The next day, they’ll both feel awkward, the girl begins to dress more “consciously”, the guy becomes more of a gentleman ( as an attempt to conceal all the farts and snores). Then after a few weeks of trying to mask what they think they feel, they decide to have a heart to heart talk about stuff. After the tête-à-tête, they end up cuddling in a tight embrace with tears of joy and contentment that they finally figured it out. Ohh, that’s sick.

I’d rather look at it this way. One sunny afternoon, they were doing their stuff, conversing about their ex’s and how people can’t seem to identify with them. While conversing, they realize that they’re tired.. they look at each other, trying to persuade themselves (of course by themselves, not totally discussing it) that maybe, there’s a chance that they’ll end up together. You know, just to stop the futile chase. They try to rationalize their illusions by looking for each other’s “good points”. When they go home, they’re both smiling because they feel stupid for giving malice to a perfectly platonic relationship. They lie on their beds, imagining each other’s faces just to give assurance that the other bestfriend is not that bad. They end up dreaming of each other due to excessive thinking. They feel guilty for whatever happened in the dream (it wasn’t that wholesome, I guess).. they feel awkward, and it will be aggravated by their friends’ teasing. Then they start to acknowledge the problem, they try to talk it out. Then they are both too scared to end their being BESTFRIENDS so they decide to take it a step further by being lovers, besides they both have been hypnotized by the “fairytale” they created. There’s just no one else to keep, same story as the meantime girl or guy. End of narrative.

At one point in my story, the other might try to divert his/her lust for the bestfriend by dating other guys/girls. Then that’s when things get fucked up. Or should I say it’s when order is once again achieved, and the bestfriends resume their “platonic relationship” in misery. Until they are able to find the better replacement. Then they continue the infinite battle. My bestfriend THEORY happens in a cycle. Oh shit, yeah, it never ends, it has no resolution. I think I’m gonna be sick.

I Touch Myself

This song has been making me smile for weeks now, i don't know why.. hahaha..

I Touch Myself
the Divinyls


I love myself I want you to love me
When I feel down I want you above me
I search myself I want you to find me
I forget myself I want you to remind me

I don't want anybody else
When I think about you I touch myself
I don't want anybody else
I touch myself

You close your eyes and see me before you
Think you would die if i were to ignore you
A fool could see just how much you adore me
Get down on your knees and do anything for me

I don't want anybody else
When I think about you I touch myself
I don't want anybody else

I'm the one who makes you come running
I keep you coming all the time
When I'm around you're always begging
I want to make you mine

I love myself I want you to love me
When I feel down I want you above me
I search myself I want you to find me
I forget myself I want you to remind me

I don't want anybody else
When I think about you I touch myself
I don't want anybody else

I don't want anybody else
When I think about you I touch myself
I don't want anybody else

I don't want anybody else
When I think about you I touch myself (fading...)

Aftermath of the Proposal

Inexpressible love – to know that one doesn't write for the other, to know that these things I'm going to write will never cause me to be loved by the one I love, to know that writing compensates for nothing. – R. Barthes

Yesterday, I did something Im proud of but will eventually make me the most miserable woman on earth. I gave my letter of proposal to the man Ive been loving for quite sometime now and 24 hours after, I didnt get any reaction from him. Id like to think, that like me, he's also disoriented and that he's rethinking about what he's gonna do bout it, but I have a greater feeling that he'll just let me go and make me live my life without him in the picture. A part of me is saying that I did the right thing, of course it's rational, at least now I can move on and I can stop romanticizing every single memory that we have together yet, a greater part of me thinks that if only I didn't give it to him, things would still be normal and that I will still be able to be as close to him as I want to without him thinking that I’m flirting with him.

(After two weeks)

I don’t regret doing it, but as much as I want to say that I’m ready for whatever the consequences of my decision are, I can never be too ready… now, every second feels like a pin pricks my raw skin and makes me bleed. Every minute is like a lifetime of misery, fear and uncertainty. Every hour burns me like an overwhelming flame of suffering. I am dying.. he is killing me not softly but slowly…

. I still can’t believe I gathered the courage to make my friend give it to him and confess what I truly feel. I must admit though, I expected something wonderful out of it, I expected him to accept it as the “matured man” whom I thought he was. When I wrote the letter, I was full of hope that at least he would appreciate the fact that someone’s vocally admiring him and loving him despite of everything. I was so engrossed with the idea that he’ll find it exceptionally sweet and will eventually find it in his heart to try to get to know me more so we’ll both find out if there’s the littlest of hope that we can make it as a couple, or even as companions. Well, I gave him too much credit. His reaction was just so devastating for me that right now, I’m not only mending a broken heart but also a broken ego. I pictured the scenarios long before the letter got into his hands. I even listed in my mind the things which possibly will happen after that fateful day.

1. He will be greatly flattered, will text me as soon as he finished reading it and say thank you. The next day, he’ll surprise me with a bouquet of fresh flowers and invite me to a dinner date with him. We’ll talk about our memories, and how he finally gathered the courage to admit to himself that he’s in fact also in great attraction to me. we’ll make the decision to try it out as a couple and we’ll end the night with a passionate kiss. (This is the overly optimistic, too-good-to-be-true ending)

2. He will call me on the telephone to tell me that he didn’t realize that it’s what I feel for him, will feel flattered about it. The next day we’ll talk, he’ll drop the bomb, that he doesn’t see himself in a relationship with me (for whatever reason), I’ll cry but not in pure sadness but also with happiness because I got the closure I wanted. We’ll still be friends, we’ll be closer than before and I’ll be back in the dating scene with another exceptional experience added to my future autobiography.

3. I will not be hearing from him a couple of days after, but after a week (maximum) he’ll ask me if we can talk. He’ll confess that he still can’t believe I did such a thing and will tell me that it was too much for him to handle. (which is an implicit way of telling me he got turned off) then he’ll say that right now he is undecided of how he wants to end this story and he’ll be asking me for sometime to think. That we need time away from each other (as if not talking to me for a week want enough). Of course I’ll give it to him, we’ll still be friends. While waiting, I’ll be meeting new men and in the process get over him (because if he really likes me, no matter how conservative he is, his reaction will be different) then we’ll bump into each other, he’ll see me with another man, we’ll smile at each other, give each other that knowing smile which says we both understood that when we had the last conversation, it was over and that he didn’t want to hurt me too much and reject me directly because even if he doesn’t love me, he cares for me as a friend.

I was open to the idea of rejection, in fact it was my “reality scenario” but like what we always say, one can never be too ready for the harsh gifts of life. Long after he received my letter, he still doesn’t talk to me. He avoids me like a lethal virus and now I feel like my being attracted to anyone will be such a disgrace for the man. I had too much faith in the friendship which I thought he at least gives importance to. I had too much faith in his maturity and his judgment. It’s true, a woman in love never sees faults in her significant other but finds reasons for these imperfections. A woman in love never admits that their differences will greatly affect their harmonious relationship. Yes, I am mending not only a broken heart but also a broken ego. From my confidence level almost reaching 100%, it dropped to almost nothing, if he can’t fall for me, who would?? now, everything I believed in is being tested by how things are going. It hurts more than I can put and express into words. My tears are not even enough to measure how much pain and agony it’s now causing me. I am a strong woman, I know I’ll get through this, but like every failure I’ve had in my life, I know that I will never ever forget. I will never move on totally and with this experience will emerge a new insecurity, a new uncertainty which will make my life’s baggage heavier.

I fear for myself, I fear for the day that I might lose the faith I have for the power of LOVE. I know that something just went wrong with the singer and not the song, it’s about the lover not the love, but still, it’s the operative word right? If unconditional love can’t do it, then what can? I don’t know if this is my karma, for dating a lot of men in the past, for dumping a couple of men, for being a player or for being the “great one”. It can’t be like that, I wasn’t that heartless before to deserve such pain. If only he’ll give me the chance to at least talk to him and to ask him why… I have rehearsed, over and over again, in front of the mirror on how I would react to the scenarios I listed above, but now, if ever we get the chance to talk, I know I’ll cry. I will hate myself for crying in front of him because I don’t want him to see the weak side of me. I don’t want him to remember me as the girl who broke down and cried. My first line would be, “I expected more maturity from you… you have no right to avoid me like I’m such a pathetic, desperate loser..” but I know that at the back of my mind, the only thing I would really wanna do is to kiss him and make him understand how right it feels for us to be together. Yeah, and that too will be a bigger mistake because he most probably won’t kiss me back and he definitely won’t change his mind. It will just make me feel more of a loser and it will be harder for me to let him go because aside from the love that I feel, the feel of his lips against mine will be haunting me through all of my sleepless nights. Then I will be fantasizing of the day when I can look at him in the eye and get revenge from the look of regret in him for losing me and letting me pass him by. But that’s fiction.

In reality, I’m miserable, more miserable than I’d like everyone to think. He may look miserable in my friends’ eyes but my misery will be beyond what can be seen and perceived. My misery is undetected and more destructive. My misery is also my redemption. Until the day I find numbness from someone else’s misery, I will be miserable and I will be pretending….

My Epitaph

My epitaph will be something like these two i wrote..


Life's a Bitch.
She was a Bitch.
Therefore..
She was LIFE.

---

Life is predictably unpredictable,
randomly stable,
fairly unfair...
She lived with it, even regressed it.

---

Temporary Madness..

Sensuality connected our being
From afar, you have caressed me,
touched me, kissed me and raped me.
Through your eyes, I have teased you,
dared you, made you crave for more.
I licked my lips and you caught your breath.
You closed your eyes and I moaned.
we started walking,
towards opposite directions.

Wasted

Tonight, I'll be drunk, you'll be drunk,
We'll both be drunk..
Tonight, I'll hold you in a blissful stare
which can launch the most orgasmic feeling.
We shall break away from our rational selves
and lock our lips in a breath-taking kiss.
You will be brave enough to feel my longing,
fulfill it and surpass all the fear and uncertainty.
They'll watch us, in awe and in aching anticipation.
They will close their eyes and imagine.
For tonight,we're both drunk
and
tomorrow..
we're STRANGERS,
mere strangers who were
D
R
U
N
K
...

The “Nursery” Rhyme

Don’t you dare tease me, you don’t know what you’re getting into.
I may be an angel but I know I make you itch too.

Don’t pout your lips and never hold my hands.
There’s too much sexual tension I sure might start to run.

Don’t wink at me nor pinch my nose
I swear I can smell trouble wherever this thing goes.

Don’t be too touchy and hug me in the end
We might find each other yummy but I remember you call me friend.

This may sound wholesome, a nursery rhyme indeed.
But if we don’t take things slow, we might end up with a kid..

OUR "not-so-simple" Story

You will read this story again. It’s not a choice given to you, it’s a challenge you have to face. Be judgmental, ask questions, make conclusions. You are the reader, I am the writer. You own my words now and all I can do is wait.
------

At nine o’clock in the morning, while Britney’s half-singing half- squeaking her latest song ,Toxic in the background, Atoy is in his room, seriously contemplating on what to wear the next day. Tomorrow’s his first day as an official intern at the Makati Business Club and he can’t wait to strut it out. He then realizes that some last minute shopping has to be done to boost his self esteem. The obsessive-compulsive in him runs through a list of possible malls he can go to, “Glorietta, Powerplant, Podium, Galleria… hmm, Rustan’s kaya, definitely not Megamall, the place doesn’t feel comfy and classy enough.” While in deep thinking, his polyphonic tone of Beyonce’s Baby Boy begins playing, he reaches for his Nokia 3650 on his study table and starts to read his friend’s text message.

“Atoy, u hav 2b in mega ‘round 2pm,,d movie Anthony n i’l b wtchn wil prbably end ‘round dt tym, u hv 2 save me if he bores me to death,, pls,pls sweetie, plus, I do miss u. mwah,mwah. Ur d swtest thng,luv ya…ÜÜÜ.”

Bitch, he rolls his eyes after reading the message, I told her to stop meeting up with all these men if she can’t handle it herself. She didn’t even bother to ask if I was ok with it. The nerve of this girl, if she isn’t my friend, I would have subjected her to serious spanking. She is one of the reasons why I stopped being a bisexual and chose to be a complete homosexual. He smiles sheepishly knowing that no matter how unbelievably bitchy his friend is, he will still meet up with her at Megamall. He looks forward to seeing her and better yet to bashing the place again . Megamall, ready or not, your greatest critic will grace you again with his royal presence. While checking out the time in his Gucci wristwatch he got up and headed for the shower.

At 1:55 pm, Atoy arrives at the Megamall and struggles not to lose his temper while he waits for his turn to park his Toyota Vios at the mall’s open parking. Norah Jones’ soothing voice as she sings Come Away With Me doesn’t help much to ease his growing disgust. When it’s his time to park after 15 minutes of waiting in line, he still can’t find an unoccupied parking space. This is rubbish, why let all these cars enter when in fact they know that there isn’t enough space to accommodate them? And what’s with all these rerouting schemes inside the open parking which made the traffic even worse than a heavy traffic situation in EDSA? They charge me for this and I get exhausted even before I am able to go inside the mall simply because their parking space is insufficient, I really do love Megamall! When he is about to give up, a couple emerges and signals that their Mercedez Benz is right in front of his car. Great, ‘coz I don’t have any plan to prolong my agony While adjusting his i2i New York pair of shades, Atoy waves back and ironically, looks forward to going inside the mall.

He finishes his parking stint around 2:20pm.. At the mall entrance, Atoy once again falls in line for the routine inspection conducted by the security guards. Its purpose is to allegedly ensure the safety of all the shoppers. Yeah right, this is a very efficient way to detect possible criminals and terrorists. Atoy opens his Marithe Francois Girbaud clutch bag for inspection, raises his hands to give the guard access to his body. This is more of an erotic ritual than an assurance that we’re all safe. Of course criminals and terrorists won’t hide whatever it is that they must hide in obvious places. Even if they do, touching a person’s side and occasionally, his back doesn’t make sense, it will not detect anything. The guard utters an incoherent thank you after what Atoy believes are sweet caresses and Atoy smirks in return. While smoothing out his polo from Top Shop and his khaki pants from Dockers, he felt his penis react not due to lust but because he feels like peeing, he then tries to battle it out to go through an infinite number of people and push carts. While doing so, he realizes that though it’s normal for Megamall to be filled with people, there must be something special going on that day, people are literally swarming. Who would believe that the Filipinos are poverty-stricken when they’re all in the mall shopping their hearts out? But then again, they maybe taking advantage of the free aircon. It’s summer, staying in their houses is more of a torture.

While inching his way to the escalator and preventing the people from stepping on his Bristol Shoes in what seems like eternity, his attention gets caught by a certain banner. SM Three-day sale… Now, I am ready to kill that bitch. Who in her normal mind will schedule a date in Megamall on one of the three days of the megasale? I swear sometimes she can be annoyingly clueless, or should I say dumb? He shakes his head in desperation and breathes slowly in an attempt to stabilize himself. Relax. He pays attention to the enduring attempt of his pee to come out of his favorite part of the body. Seeing the washroom sign is like a battle won, he walks briskly towards it only to be stopped by a sign which says Sorry for the inconvenience, please use the comfort room at the third floor. Awestruck, he purposely pushes the sign out of its place because there’s nothing else he can do. With another attempt to control his pee, his Nokia 3650 vibrated and he swears that the sensation it gives him doesn’t help at all. It’s his friend, the reason of his misery, the unsuspecting villain of his mall-bashing story, the clueless bitch who’s probably making out with her date somewhere. Her text message makes him even more fuming.

“Ei boytoy, wer u? I knw I tld u 2 b hir @ 2pm bt im stil inside d cnema w/ Anthony . we’r knd of enjyin each othr’s company so cn u jst stroll ‘round 1st? im rily sory. It’s jst dt he’s rily cool, we’r wtchn The School of Rock n d movie’s just hilarious. My d8’s a good kisser, n did I tel u he’s got blue eyes? I knw ur hapy 4me,il c u l8r sweetie. Lotsa luv ;-)”

Stroll around first? Is she crazy or plain stupid? How am is supposed to stroll around when all these people are giving me the elbow, pushing me ‘round and literally bumping into me every so often? Atoy remembers his need to pee and continued the journey to his much-awaited destination, the washroom. Great, just great. My pee’s for the management who closes their washrooms just in time for a three-day sale. Cheers! After what seems like a blissful moment, he gets another text message from she-who-deserves-to-be-punished .

“ d d8’s almost over, last nlng, we’re goin 2 Timezone to play Daytona. Atoy,ur nt md at me ryt? F u wnt u cn jst meet us der. Cnt w8 2 c u again, and cnt w8 2 mke kwnto of d things we did. Hope ur enjyin ur stroll @d mall. Mwah. :-*”

Atoy wipes the perspiration on his forehead with his Bench hanky and texts her back, “Mad at you? Nah, it’s an understatement. I’m more like furious. But the good friend that I am refuses to give in to my present emotion. Ok, this guy must be really worth it or I’ll definitely hurt you both physically and emotionally, big time. :-P No, I’m not enjoying my stroll at your favorite mall and yeah I miss you too.” He sends his text message after checking his spelling and grammar, he refuses to use his phone’s dictionary. Text lingo makes Filipinos dumb, communication is a good thing but if done in bad taste, it’s annoying. He still doesn’t understand why his friend is in love with Megamall. In SM Megamall, there’s disorder and a bad case of Filipino culture. Of course, his friend disagrees and he more often than not will argue with her until they end up with the resolution that it’s all a matter of personal preference. That’s a good way to put it, relativity is a point widely-used by debaters, you can never argue without a standard. He still believes that comfort is only felt where there is order, aesthetics, well-mannered people wearing and using branded items.

While walking, or more appropriately, while being dragged by the crowd to the escalator, he finally sees his friend and her man. He looks at her and she secretly smiles back. She is wearing the dress we bought at Morgan de Toi, the sandals we eyed in Doyee Tumpalan’s exclusive line of footwear and the set of white gold jewelry her father gave her. Atoy knows that she doesn’t want her date to find out she planned the whole bumping into each other situation. He lets them pass him by, establishing eye contact the whole time with his friend, giving her the half-smile, raised eyebrow, you-are-such-a-flirt look. She giggles while clinging to her date’s arm whom by the way Atoy finds charming and oozing with sex appeal. Bruha, it’s their first date and they’re all touchy and clingy. He must really be a good kisser and conversationalist or she will not be holding her like a possessive bitch. He follows them to Timezone and watches them from afar. Blue eyes, medium built with muscles at the right places, Moreno, tall. He looks like a guy out of GQ magazine. Yummy.

“Atoy, ohmigosh, I can’t believe you’re also here,” She gives Atoy a smack. “This is my friend Anthony, Anthony this is my close friend Atoy. Who are you with?” She smiles innocently, perfectly acting out the surprised friend part.

“ I’m not with anyone, I was just strol---ling and appreciating how diverse the people are in Megamall. Hi there Anthony, it’s nice to meet you. Are you her boyfriend? You bitch, you never told me you’re with someone new now.” Now they’re both in the action. He hears Anthony saying he’s pleased to meet him and that he’s not YET her boyfriend, then he asks him if he’s always in Megamall. Atoy smiles, “Yeah, Megamall’s one of my favorite malls in the metro, it’s quite an interesting place. I get to observe people and understand them in my own little way. Right girl?” He taps his friend’s shoulder and gives her a you-better-end-this-conversation look.

“Right, so Atoy, why don’t you join us? We’ve got a lot of catching up to do bitch! I’m sure Anthony won’t mind, right sweetie?” Like a professional date guru, she holds her date’s hand and gives him a sugary sweet smile which makes Atoy squirm. The poor guy nods without knowing what he’s getting himself into.

“Aww, I would love to, I’m finished appreciating the beauty of Megamall, I might as well join you guys so I can start appreciating other things.” He gives his friend a familiar wink. The wink signals the start of a grueling interrogation which involves Atoy’s new object of labeling, Anthony.
-------------------
We’re all living a branded life like Atoy. From wearing branded clothes to assuming personalities to please the people around us. We label people according to what we perceive them to be. We judge people through our own standards and more often than not, we are unwilling to compromise.

We are like Atoy’s friend who charms her way through different situations. We all love the feeling of being superior, of being in total control while holding other people in complete surrender.

We are similar to Anthony, the clueless, optimistic, gullible man. We continue to see the world as a sugar-coated candy. But when is it time to finally wake up?

We are the seemingly unimportant men and women whom Atoy bumped into in Megamall. These men who unknowingly influences other men’s way of thinking, destination and even the journey itself.

This story is about you, about us, about every man’s life. I’m sure you’ll figure this out and find new interpretations after reading the story again. Go find yourself in the story, go invent and rediscover new meanings. Besides, I’m a writer, I can’t do all the explaining and interpretation for you. It’s forbidden.

Am I a Whiner or a Writer?

For hours, I stared at the emptiness of my room’s ceiling while trying to make pertinent thoughts and words flow like stream water running. I was on the verge of considering my colloquial style as my greatest difficulty in writing. It was what my friends / critics have pointed out on numerous occasions that now, I feel that it has hindered me from producing good articles. I breezed through some of my essays, short stories and pseudo-poems (pseudo for I find my poems silly and totally unacceptable even by the contemporary standards, they are mere blah-blahs). It was all in the hope of finding inspiration from previous works. In no time, I figured out what my greatest difficulty is.

My writing has always been, and I guess, will always be dependent upon my mood. But here’s the catch, I only write when there’s something to complain about. That makes me more of a whiner. I am a self indulgent writer. That for me is a very big problem, especially after I read what Margo Jefferson has to say about essays.

“I love essays ... but I do want to feel they’re part of a larger whole. Not just an indication of the writer’s sensibility… but as proof of the writer’s sustained concentration.”

Cristina Pantoja Hidalgo interpreted it as a warning against writing for self indulgence. I feel that I am one eligible candidate for being guilty of such pleasure.

I have written a lot of works which will verify my being a self indulgent whiner err, writer. “Ang Laki Kasi ng Boobs Ko” was about how I’m inconvenienced by my big breasts, “Di ka Masyado Kagandahan” was about how I hate it when good-looking women can’t accept the fact that normal-looking women like me can date drop-dead gorgeous guys, “The Failure of An Achiever” talked about how I complained about being an achiever in the eyes of the people around me. These are things which are normally considered as blessings by other people. I, on the other hand, write essays about these topics while whining nonstop. I never intend to just whine while writing, it just happens. Like it’s some inevitable event that I have to go through.

Just like any budding writer, I want my works to be of relevance to other people. The question remains, how am I going to achieve that? It’s hard when the things I write about only expose my own imperfection, my own insecurities, my own dilemma. I can’t go on discussing my states of depression, how I hate it when the guys I date are all not into commitment, or how I despise being stuck with horny men. How do I address this difficulty when I find pleasure in self indulgence? When in fact, I consider my writing as a form of outlet, a form of therapy?

The resolution to my dilemma lies in how I whine. It was Gutkind who asked the question, “Aside from the people directly involved in the story, who cares?” I must make my readers care without giving them the idea that I’m just a whiner in disguise. I must convince them that the things I write matter to them without sounding too desperate or eager to please. I must be able to write about topics which interest them and which also bring a point. May it be a point which will convince them or make them disagree, I must make my readers relate to the stories I tell, the dilemmas I whine about and the insights I am able to share. Writing is a form of “MUSTerbation”. So what am I? I’m a whining writer who finds pleasure not only in self indulgence but also in my readers’ stories of how I have touched them in ways I can never imagine.

IRONY

We're living our separate lives TOGETHER..
We look into each other's eyes
through a mirror of lies and deceit..

We find security and assurance in our hearts
filled with doubts, fears and denials...

We are loving each other and
preventing the love all at the same time...

We have won the battle and
labeled ourselves as the LOSERS...

We're living our s e p a r a t e lives together;
and WE is never transitive to
the existence of US nor togetherness..

Learning

Five Things I Learned About Life:

Life will never be fair, you just have to maximize whatever you have.
Happiness is found in contentment.
Change is inevitable.
You are what you envision yourself to be.
Fate is a prelude to a decision.

Sea of Emotions

we're drifting apart like two opposing currents
carrying our own lives towards the bottom where
the corals are soft enough to provide shelter for
our helpless hearts. i lost my memories of how i
used to love being lost in your hollow stare and
instead i remember how you avoid me like im a
lethal virus which threatens to inhabit your
tanned physique. from the violent current to the
green field turning into a dull brown as the once
full of life facade has turned into a nightmare.
for a second, i have cornered you only to
discover that i have cornered myself in the end
and chained my lips to a bowl of tears where a
fish weaps and the coral dances with the rhythm
of the current. this is a dance and i'm lying,
floating, blinded.. bleeding...

The Elevator Groupie

We are all made to believe that we should be headed in the same direction, inside a seemingly restrictive box that gives us free will a...