Fall's Alarm

a.k.a. Hindsight 20/20
a.k.a. Charge it to Experience
a.k.a. Subject Matter Expert Advice

1. Bago ka mag-fall, dapat konting abiso sa inaasahan mo na sasalo sa'yo. Baka gusto ka naman saluhin, hindi lang siya na-inform.

2. At kung meron ka nang naabisuhan na sumalo, huwag ka na mag-notify ng iba. Kasi yung dalawa na sinabihan mong sumalo sa'yo malamang-lamang magkakabanggaan lang habang pabagsak ka at ang ending, babagsak ka mag-isa.

3. Huwag kang pa-fall.

Una, baka risk-taker siya, biglang tumalon nang hindi ka pa handang sumalo (assuming na may intensyon kang sumalo).

Pangalawa, kung wala ka palang intensyon, tantanan mo siya. Mahabag ka.

Pangatlo, kung last minute kang nagdesisyon na sumalo, mag-sorry ka. Chances are na-realize na niyang mali ang bagsak niya.

Pang-apat, hindi ito basketball, hindi naga-apply ang fakes. Hindi pwedeng ipapahiwatig mo na magd-drive ka, magkasabay kayong aariba tapos biglang aatras ka pala habang siya lumundag na.

4. Ikaw na pa-fall, kung na-misinterpret ka (or so you claim) huwag mong sasabihin na hindi mo sinadya. Ok, baka hindi mo talaga sinadya.  Huwag mo nang i-attempt na maintindihan niya. Nahulog na nga yung tao ipagduduldulan mo pa. Sige na. Friendly ka na. Good job. Wooohoo. Hangout hangout. Yes. PBB Teens.

5. Ikaw namang pala-fall, matuto kang mag-fall with caution. Minsan, akala mo may sasalo sa baba kaya mega lundag ka. Eh wala. All systems go ka nga pero radio silence naman siya. Matutong alamin ang terrain, maglagay ng safety net kung posible o kaya ay magsuot ng parachute para matanggap ang truth.

6. At pinakaimportante, tanggapin ang resulta. Dalawa lang yan, sinalo ka ba o hindi? Kung sinalo ka, tuloy ang storya.

Kung pinabayaan kang mahulog mag-isa, tumayo ka nang mag-isa.

A Cluttered Mind's Reflections on D. handler's Adverbs

Attraction

“Love is hourly, too. There are stories about people who have loved someone forever after laying eyes on them for a few minutes and then nevermore, but these stories have not happened to anyone we know.” 

The magic of loving someone forever after one moment? I think it happens everyday. These stories never get told because they’re embarrassing. It’s like submitting to the idea that love, really, is illogical and uncontrollable. And that, my friends, is the plot of catastrophe. Love is a decision, right? A commitment that you get into when you’re ready, and sure and unafraid anymore? Right?

Seriously, haven’t you had that one day when a stranger catches your eye for merely walking right in front of you and you silently tell yourself, “He could be the one.”? Haven’t you had that weird moment when someone you've been spending time with, a friend, literally transforms right before your eyes and at that weirdest of moments, you acknowledge that you are, indeed, in love? Isn't it a common thing to be smoking with someone while you secretly wish for the universe to conspire and make that unintelligible shape that the smoke from your cigarette and his combine into the mushiest heart-shaped form?

The truth is, love happens - everyday, every breathing second, every regular minute – whether we acknowledge it is a different story.

Falling “Deeper” in Love

“No, when you love someone you spend hours and hours with them, and even the mightiest forces in the netherworld could not say whether the hours you spend increase your love or if you simply spend more hours with someone as your love increases.”

Oh, the mystery that is loving because you’re needing or needing because you’re loving. Does love really increase? Or does it seem to increase by the level of dependence that you develop for the other person? This is exactly how over thinking things can ruin the greatest of love stories.  Because if we find the answer to the question, what does it really result to?

If the answer is that love is directly proportional to the time you spend with the other person, then time and proximity become significant factors in the relationship. But isn't love supposed to be a thing in itself? A feeling, a commitment, a decision that conquers all? How much faith must one put in love?  When does one draw the line between loving unconditionally and conditionally?

On the other hand, if love remains constant but the need to be near your partner increases with time, aren't we depicting a picture of love as selfish and discontented? Doesn't it go against the premise that love makes you a better person? Isn't a better person someone that is more capable of a more mature and selfless love?  

Finding the answer yields to doubt either way. To be honest, I think falling deeper in love makes you feel a lot of new things that make it hard for you to cope. If you have been dependent all your life, you need to rise above the pressure of doing things on your own to ensure that your partner can grow, too. If you have been independent all your life, you need to surrender some freedom to be part of a couple that grows together in a relationship.

So, this is my answer: You can ask all sorts of questions about love but the main question is, “Do you still want to be loving the other person despite all the possible logical answers?”

I sure hope the answer is a yes or a no – because being a maybe says a lot about you than about your relationship. 

Regret

“And when the love is over, when the diner of love seems closed from the outside, you want all those hours back, along with anything you left at the lover’s house and maybe a couple of things which aren’t technically yours on the grounds that you wasted a portion of your life and those hours have all gone southside.”

Let me just say that when “love” does not work out, I almost always feel so cheated. Not the third-party kind but the “how could you give your love to someone else and share your dreams with me” kind. It’s the curse of the blessed extroverted introvert. People have become so comfortable in sharing their dreams, thoughts, secrets and innermost desires to me that I have wrongly imagined these confessions to be promises of building a future together. God knows I become so emotionally, intellectually and physically invested that when it doesn't work out, I feel like I have given up so much.

But that’s the thing – all these “investments” that I think I have contributed to the non-relationship only happened inside my head. From the outsider’s point of view, I was just being me – a really good friend slash emotionally-detached listener who always says the right things.

Ok, I got lost in my thought.

The bottom line is this, most of the time, the things that you give in a (non)relationship have been freely, voluntarily and lucidly given by you and have not been explicitly asked by the one that you love. Fine, discreetly asked and expected by the partner but YOU made the decision to give them because at that exact moment that you were giving up your time, hell, your life… you felt that what the other was giving you was worth it, or so much more than what you were giving up. It is always a calculated risk based on the hope of mutualism. That empty feeling after things fell apart is not regret – it’s loss. It’s not wanting to turn back time and make different decisions but wanting to profit from a sunk cost[1].
  

Moving Forward

“And so you sit like a spilled drink, those missing hours in you like an ache, and you hear stories that aren’t true and won’t bring anyone back. Things happen and you never get over them…”

The other night, I was having quite an interesting discussion with a friend / officemate over beer (for her) and iced tea (for me) and I remember her saying, “I choose moving forward over moving on because when you move on, it seems like you are trying to forget everything, including the pain and I don’t believe in that – but when you move forward, it’s coming to terms with pain and deciding that life goes on, and that you just have to live with that pain because it has become a part of you.” I’ve said it before and I will say it again, everyone must accept that there is honor in pain. In a former blog entry, I said, “… you realize that pain, really, is just a wonderful front act. You get hurt, once in a while, with some periods more painful than the others.”

Move forward because your main act is happiness. Move forward because the stage is wide and everyone is waiting for you to perform the greatest act of your life – to love and to be loved in return.

You’re ready.

---

[1] In economics and business decision-making, a sunk cost is a retrospective (past) cost that has already been incurred and cannot be recovered. 

The Better Half of 2014

As we say goodbye to 2014's first half, let us all take a moment and remember all the risks that were taken, the moments that were golden and the people who were there to catch us when we thought we've fallen and become fallen.

 Para sa lahat ng na- #seenzone, #friendzone, twilight zone at nam-mroblema sa #tzone, para sa lahat ng sumugal at nagmabagal, para sa lahat ng nagmahal, minahal, at gumastos ng mahal, para sa lahat ng umasa, nagnasa at nagpakasasa...

 Hindi pa tapos ang laban. Ang kalahati ay katunog ng kalapati... At mababa man at mataas, kaya mong lumipad.

 #ThoughtBubbling#IntrovertMindExtrovertHeart #BetterHalf2014

The Pain in Expectations

Boracay, May 2013

It starts with a promise - with images of silly games and childish banters that evolve into quiet nights and comfortable silence. It's a sugar-coated trap that initially makes you believe and inevitably leaves you wondering.

What's wrong? Didn't you once say that there is beauty in wondering? That a certain sense of fulfillment springs when, in your solitude, you are able to make the puzzles fit? The mistake is in taking that leap, that hop, that tiny single step from fantasizing to the tragedy that is wishful entitlement.

Don't you remember? There is a fine line between imagination and expectation. The thing with this pain is that it slowly inhabits your heart, with stealth and deception, until it lethally bleeds.

The Imagined

"It felt so real.", you ponder. 

Your feeling? Oh, it is real. Sometimes your mind can trick you into believing that you’ve already given everything and done anything to show how much you like a person only to realize that your exhaustion comes not from doing but from mere thinking. 

That after experiencing this imagined but elaborate pseudo-reality where you have allowed yourself to finally free-fall, you open your eyes and remember that you're still alone... or that he was never there. 

It's time to wake up. Enough is enough.

The Honor in Pain

image from ThingsWeForget

“I wake up, feeling nothing. At one point, I was looking forward to seeing him with another woman so I can feel again, but when I did, that thing that I was scared of happened. I felt nothing.” (7 September 2011)


Last night, after a wonderfully challenging Quiz Night in Capricciosa, Greenbelt 3, three of my friends and I opted to end the night with a round of alcohol. Yes, we do one rounds, surprisingly and we are capable of doing a post game analysis of a Quiz Night pretty well, too. Naturally, after what seemed like a never ending round of jokes oozing with sarcasm and a plan to organize THE party of the century, we got into a discussion of our mutual status of WALANG WALA (totally nothing). It all started with a realization of my and another friend’s inability to write again. If you know me, you will understand the frustration that I am feeling for being unable to write anything. I am pretty passionate about capturing raw emotions and writing about them in my blog. I feel that through that exercise, I am able to treasure extraordinary memories so I can look back someday with a contented look in my eyes.

Something must be wrong. A Eunice that does not feel is not the real Eunice. I am able to extract feelings by merely looking at a stupid chair, how can I not feel anything about something?

I have been wondering for the past months about what state I am currently in. I’ve been running around this city and a few cities outside, doing everything and nothing. I go home late, feeling happy about what I have accomplished and drifting to sleep with a smile on my face. Yet, when I wake up, I feel that nagging feeling of emptiness. It’s like I am complete but someone or something has taken away a part of me that I can never get back. Then I get dressed and that fleeting feeling of emptiness disappears, magically and alarmingly.

Then, Kris Aquino dragged me to hell, err reality. While I was preparing to go to work this morning, I was half watching, half deciding what to wear, when Melissa Ricks began to talk about her breakup with her long term non-boyfriend who recently announced that the breakup was mutual only to be refuted by Melissa’s silence when asked to confirm that declaration. Kris said, and I quote, “Boy always tells me that you have to honor your pain.”

CRAP. You have to honor your pain. And just like that, everything became clear. It actually is true. Although the happiness that I feel with the people I spend my time with, I believe, is genuine –and I’d like to think that their happiness is, too… almost all of us are actually in pain. We talk about it, jokingly, sometimes with a hint of wisdom but we never really dwell on them. May it be the pain of not being able to love, to the pain of not being loved back, the pain of doing something that you’d rather not do, the pain of not doing anything, the pain of doing everything and not being recognized for your everything - we all are in different levels and categories of pain.

We are not honoring our pain. We are looking past them, like they are informal settlers being concealed by pretentious colorful walls along a main highway. We know they exist but we’d rather ignore them because honestly, it scares the shit out of us.

I remember writing about living with pain and I said, “One thing I learned about living is that, “Pain is inevitable.” The moment you are able to come to terms with that, you realize that pain, really, is just a wonderful front act. You get hurt, once in a while, with some periods more painful than the others.”

Therefore, I take it back, once in a while, you have to let pain get to you. You have to sometimes honor your pain, dwell on your weakness and allow others to be strong for you, instead. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have anything to look forward to.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again –“Live with pain but don’t live IN it.” Honor your pain so you can honor happiness more. A real victory is not won from beginning to end. A real victory is being hurt, injured, and scarred for most of the battle but emerging as the survivor. A real victory takes away everything from you only to give back everything and so much more.

A real victory honors pain but lives through it so stories may be told and memories may be passed on. A real victory looks at pain through its mocking eyes and says to its face, “I honor you but, bring it on, motherfucker.”

Until Then, Twenty Ten!

So, it’s that time of the year again, when everything is heightened and emotions are exaggerated and what seemed like a clear delineation between what is real and fiction becomes a broken line. It’s time to look back, shake your head in amusement and well, disbelief while counting both your blessings and mistakes.

Say it with me, “It’s been a good year, dammit!”

If people interpret my blogging to be directly proportional to my issues, then my inability to blog about what’s been happening with me as often as I used to may also be interpreted as an indication of how smooth-sailing and stable my life has been this year. In fact, although 2010 had quite a rocky beginning, you know with that “WAITING FOR BAR RESULTS” sign flashing all over the place up until April, it was, hands down, one of the most stable years of my life.

I have quite a number of things to be thankful for, and this blog, above all, is a celebration of people: People who came into my life, people who voluntarily left and those whom, despite seeing what this hullabaloo that is EUNICE is all about, decided, with some humorous twist of fate, to stay. I see myself more like a stopover for those whom I interact with, and the small number of people whom eventually stick it out with me through thick and thin are those whom I am meant to travel with as I crawl and sometimes, sausage roll my way to DESTINY.

But this would not be a Eunice entry without that contemplation on how my life has been scoring in the LOVE DEPARTMENT. I have finally found the perfect sport to describe love, thanks to the Philippine Azkals and well, World Cup (Disclaimer: I still am clueless about the technicalities of football. All I know is that it involves a bunch of hot men, running around and trying to score, for a loooooooooong period of time. SUE ME.) I think, LOVE really is more like football, you work hard in trying to defend your goal, and it takes some time before you can score a point or two, but when you do, everyone who’s been watching you and supporting you from the sidelines celebrate with you. And even if you don’t, you’ll be happy to call it a day, hope for the best and be thankful that you survived the game, with a little muscle pain to remind you of how tough it is to be in THAT field. Most importantly, if you’re lucky, THERE WILL BE HOT SHIRTLESS MEN waiting for you in the locker room. Bright side, people, bright side.

And even if at times, I feel like a loser for basing my mood on how my favorite TV series ended in its last episode, and even if there are quite a number of moments when I still feel like I am lonely and in desperate need of human warmth, generally, 2010 has been a year of celebrations. It didn’t hurt that I have the best group of people one could ever hope for in trying to make it through this battlefield that we call life. And yes, even if my alcohol consumption has been cut into, I’m guessing, half, admittedly, the best moments are not when we sip our ice cold glass of whatever, but when we RAISE OUR GLASSES and acknowledge that what PINK said was true,

So if you're too school for cool,
and you're treated like a fool,
you can choose to let it go
we can always, we can always, 
party on our own.

Until then, Twenty Ten!

The Rambling

Here’s what I need you to do. I need you to get over yourself and stop basking in the glory of being my “the one.” And when I blog about love, please don’t arrogantly presume that it is your love that I speak of.

When people tease me about not being able to move on from this one great love, don’t give me that knowing smile that glorifies your certainty of it being you.

If I say that I don’t like playing games anymore, don’t silently contemplate on what you did to make me think that you’re playing with me and my stupid heart and effin’ with my brain.

And when I say I still love him, never ever walk away. Because even if these things that you are sure of are absolutely true, one thing remains the same… I want to be friends with you. Not to wait for your love nor to make you realize that it is I who is destined to be with you, but to make you understand that in the same way that I consider you to be one of my best friends, I am yours too.

That’s what still matters. That’s what still counts.

Now, what are you still doing in that pretending-to-be-discreet corner, awkwardly looking at me from afar?

PAGHINTO

picture from TUMBLR

Minsan dumadaan ang mga araw na parang ikaw ang dinadaanan nito, na parang habang nakatayo ka lang, ang mundo ay masigasig na pinapakita sa’yo na tuloy tuloy parin ang pag-ikot nito kahit ayaw mo. At kahit ilang beses mong isigaw na gusto mo munang magpahinga, na gusto mo munang maramdaman na kaya mong mag-isa, ang isip at puso mo ay sumisigaw na hindi pwede at hindi mo kaya.

Nginingitian mo sila, ang mga tao na parte na ng nakasanayan mong mundong gumagalaw nang may pag-asa, kakausapin at mamahalin, dahil kung hindi, baka malaman nilang ika'y unti-unting humihina.

Baka maiwan ka at hindi mo na mamalayan na ang hiningi mong panandaliang pag-iisa ay naging patuloy na ang paghalina.

May mga araw na gusto mong maging mahina, na gusto mo maranasan na hayaan ang iba na ikaw ay alalayan at alagaaan nang may kusa.

At sa mga araw na iyon, maiisip mo na pinanganak ka mang mahina, na dinaya mo man ang iba sa pagpapakita na wala kang inaalintana, ang tunay na lakas ay ang pag-amin sa katotohanang hindi mo inakala.

At gustuhin mo man, parang hindi mo na kayang mapaniwala na pagkatapos ng lahat ng sakripisyo at pagpaparaya, sa pag-iyak mo ay may magpapawi pa ng iyong mga lihim na luha.

Pero ano ba ang kinakatakot mo?

Nakaya mo na hanggang dito, walang dahilan para magduda kang matatapos mo hanggang sa dulo.

At kung dinadaanan ka lang ng mga araw, at iniikutan ka lang ng mundo, pwede namang hayaan mo lang muna at sa malayo ay panoorin ito.

Kung kailangan mong tumigil, tumigil ka. Hindi para sumuko kundi para sa susunod na pag-ikot ng mundo, muli ay handa ka nang sumabay nang panaka-naka.

Maging masaya ka, hindi para sa iba kundi para sa puso mong nagsumikap at nagtiis para maging masaya.

Hindi sa lahat ng panahon ikaw ay tinitingala. At lalong hindi habambuhay na mananatili kang nasa baba.

Minsan ikaw ay nasa gitna ka, nagiging matatag, magmamasid at ang tanging pinapanghawakan ay ang iyong paniniwala.

#Photords #introvertmindextrovertheart #LegallyBlunt #Photography #blackandwhitephotography #BlackAndWhite #photooftheday #Poetry #TheStalkerPicsSeries #LegallyBlunt #LegallyGrunt #RealityEverAfter #writersofinstagram #buttonpoetry #listen #findyourvoice #instapoet #shortform #instapoetry

The Aftershock

Just knowing that something has ended is more than enough to make you wake up at the wrong side of your bed and make you feel all the unnecessary pain that wasn’t there when it actually happened. I couldn’t help but think that in all my failed relationships, the common factor was me. It hurts all the more to know that at one point, I was happy and that the happiness I felt ended or is at least not in the same level as it was before. Relationships are always complicated; you feel all these emotions ganging up on you like it’s the last time you can be bullied. I get asked if I am fine and I honestly say that I am. I have no other option but to be fine. It was a decision that had to be made despite all the cons. It was definitely for the best. We should quit while we’re ahead.

So I’m back to zero, back to where I started, with all the optimism that I can muster at this point. After all, we both deserve to be loved the way we imagined it to be, but more importantly, we deserve to be able to give all the love we have to someone who can bring out that drive to love in us. I am thankful, relieved and well, hopeful that in one way or the other we have learned from the experience and we will look back not with regret but with a smile that says, “We didn’t waste each other’s time.” Because while we were together, all the time spent were worth the things that we did and felt.

We will be fine. We have to be. I am... "really."

It Starts Now

So today is another beginning, a part of my string of beginnings. It starts normally but ends extraordinarily. Another “beginning” has ended, a lot of others will definitely surface but I am ready. Today is the day that I once again begin to be free. Today is the day that I will smile knowing that better things are to come. Beautiful things are coming my way, beautiful people are surrounding me. What more can a girl ask for?

It sometimes makes me sad, knowing that everything has expiration dates. Even forever is a prescriptive term right? When you look at people you meet along the way, there are those whom you know can only stay for a while but whom you would want to be there for as long as possible. You hold on to them, literally, with the hope that you can cheat destiny and make it believe that it’s only been seconds since that person has been given to you. But fate has a funny way of making you know that it’s time. You feel it, you try to ignore it and even try to justify it. Fate wins. Destiny wins.

For me, fate is a prelude to a decision… and I have finally decided. If letting go means having that person forever, then let it be. There may be no holding of hands; there may be no looking at each other’s eyes with the promise of forever, but a different promise remains. There is a silent vow that with certainty says, “Although the circumstances have changed, we still have each other’s backs.”

To love is one thing, but to genuinely care is another thing. There are no goodbyes but there are a thousand of hello’s that are needed to be uttered and felt. Love is not a noun, it’s a verb, a verb that not only acts but feels. Thank you. It was not good, it was perfect while it lasted.

---

When things like what happened happen, you couldn’t help but look at things and people differently. It becomes not a matter of choice but a matter of acceptance. You get hurt in the process, especially if you’re someone who’s not a big fan of change. You look back and think about what you could’ve and should’ve done differently not with regret but with the hope that in the end, you will learn something from the experience. When you look back, you see flashbacks, pictures of people who have been kind to you, who have been true friends to you and those who were quick to judge. You are faced with one dilemma, do you carry the pain with you or leave it behind?

Pain is a stubborn thing. It sticks with you during your frailest of moments. It strikes when you expect them to strike but more effectively and more aggressively comes when you’re already on the floor, trampled upon and beaten up. Then comes betrayal. It wouldn’t be called betrayal if it’s not by someone dear to you. Someone whom you have looked at a lot of times in the past with a smile that says ”I am so glad you’re here.” When finally you are made aware of what has been said and done, you do not feel anger or hatred. You just feel disappointed that you trusted blindly and that you loved unconditionally.

But like what I said, it is now a matter of acceptance, of a vow that you will not look the other away again. It is not of losing faith but of finding the courage to keep the faith. To be disappointed is one thing, but to live in a world where you doubt everything is like not living at all. You look around and see all these people who are more than willing to be there for you, no matter what and you begin to be grateful again. It only takes one hug, one pat on the back, one smile to make you believe once more. It only takes a handful of true friends to remind you that you can move on. You can go forward… and that finally you can be healed.

A Fairytale Convert

... because love works, if not for me, at least for other people.

I used to believe in fairytales, in happy endings, evil stepmoms, stepsisses and happily ever after. It wasn't as bad as a lot of cynics would portray. Fairytale-believers are not exactly delusional geeks who run around looking for "the one", or more appropriately said, "the prince." A lot of times, they are just level-headed women waiting to be caught offguard, to be stuck in an "aha" moment. We don't look for magic, we just look for spark, sexual tension, whatever it is that you feel when you are faced with the possibility of riding the prince, este, the horse. [Ngii]

Fairytales are not all sugar and spice and everything nice, sometimes you have to sing, no matter how hopeless the situation is [subukan mo kumanta ng depressed ka sa harap ng maraming tao, tingnan natin kung madali], sometimes you have to talk to animals not because you're crazy but because they are the only ones willing to listen. Sometimes, you have to look at your own mirror and assure yourself, pretend like you are the spirit inside it, and say that you are the fairest of them all.

The Prince Prototype doesnt have the grandest of cars or the most lucrative of jobs, he just has that certain "oomph" that specifically appeals to the Damsel-not-in-distress but is definitely stressed. He could be that guy who smokes with you when you are perfectly fine with smoking alone, that guy who sits right across you while you and your oily face try to survive a night of Constitional Law marathon and smiles at your really grumpy expression. He could be the one who doesn't say hi, doesn't say goodbye but says the right things at the most awkward of moments. He could be that person who holds your hand and helps you go down the stairs like a true blue prince aiding his princess. Or he could be an asshole. Your asshole.

Then the evil stepmoms and stepsisters, they think you're not good enough. But unlike in the classic faiytales, you don't give a damn. Because for you, they don't matter. Ahh, and that sidekick. The fairygodmother, soft spoken friend, talking animal? That's still you, only human.

How does it end? You love. Whatever happens after is just an obiter dictum. In the end, to be able to love is your "moment", it's your first kiss, your first dance, your first makeout session, your first *toot*. That's your happily ever after.

[insert some falsetto-singing moment]

THE END

CLOSURE

Last night, while downing my nth bottle of beer, I got into a conversation with a friend about closure. It's amazing how it actually takes an ending to help people start again. In a perfect world, things are continuous, they don't even have to have chapters, things are haphazardly organized.

It warped me to that time when closure seemed to be very important. Seemed. I've had my share of non-closures. I've had my share of "open-ended-putangina-ano-ba-talaga!?" stories. In the end, i realized that most of the time, the need for closure is an excuse. An excuse from starting to move on, an excuse for not letting go, an excuse for still thinking of what might've been.

We hear it all the time, "We still don't have closure." But if the point of closures is to end things, to let you finally say, "Close? Sure!", then maybe everyone got their closure that moment they felt that it wasn't right.

Maybe closures are not as important as openings. Maybe we're just looking at things the wrong way. That if we just look at the other direction, an open door is just waiting. This open door, unlike the one that we want to be closed but still remains to be a little open, is full of beautiful possibilities.

Maybe all we need is to walk away. Maybe.

Lolo Kit

I haven’t been talking about it, I even went to school the day I found out. People were asking if we expected it, my answer was that well, it crossed our minds, but to say that we expected it, for me, would be an admission that we have given up when in fact, we didn’t. I didn’t. Until the end, I was optimistic about it, thinking that someone so good, well-loved and pure will not be taken away from a world that is desperately in need of someone to whom it can look up to. My Lolo was just that.

If I will be compelled to describe him in one word, I will describe him to be CONTENTED. He wanted things, he appreciated their beauty but he was genuinely happy with what he had. He was that welcoming smile every time we will visit them in Navotas. I had the privilege of living with him a few years when I was still a kid, I must admit that I didn’t have a lot of memories. I can only describe him through what my young mind can remember at that time. The smell of his pillow is still vivid. The smell that was caused by his “pomade” reminds me of that time when I would sleep in lolo’s and lola’s room for siesta. I can vividly remember how he would curse and not mean it, how it was an empty utterance for him that would have to accompany his words to emphasize his point. He was the quiet and reserved one, he wouldn’t talk unless you talk to him first. But when you start talking to him, he’ll be more than glad to entertain you with his own stories. In our visits to Navotas, I would always hear my Lolo talk about the people that he used to help. He did simple things that have big effects on people. I wouldn’t be surprised if people we don’t even know are also grieving for his death.

I had to find out about his death the worst possible way, it was like Lolo didn’t want us to wake up at five in the morning [time of his death]. In the oddest of moments, all of our phones were being charged and were turned off. It was only when it was already nine in the morning that we received the news. I was awakened by my Mom’s scream of grief and disbelief. I rushed to her and I knew. It was a cry that was meant for the saddest of moments. My Mom was repeatedly saying, “Ang Daddy… ang Daddy.” I felt numb, I couldn’t cry because I knew my mom needed me to be strong. While my Dad was hugging her, whispering words of encouragement that I know will never comfort her at that time, my heart was literally breaking. I called my Tito and asked where we should go for the wake. I felt pain, anger and emptiness. I silently prayed and asked God to be with my Mom and Lola. If I am feeling all these things, it will be incomparable to what they would be feeling. When everyone left, and I was alone at home, strength escaped me. I crawled back to bed to cry. I kept saying, “Lolo… lolo” as if it could convince God to give him back to us.

If there is one thing I regret, it will be that I wasn’t able to spend more time with my Lolo in his last days. It seemed like I wasn’t meant to grieve, a lot of things were happening, school started, I have my thesis to take care of, events to attend to and this, arguably, is my busiest year yet. It could be that it was meant to be that way, because if I wasn’t doing a lot of things, I don’t know if I could’ve survived with a lot of time to think and reflect on his death. My Lolo even saved me a lot of times last week. I knew. I couldn’t be more thankful.

Lola Seng told me that Lolo Kit was so proud of me when he was alive. He would always tell people that his apo will become a lawyer soon. It still pains me to think that he wouldn’t be there when I finally become a lawyer. He would’ve been so happy. While I was saying goodbye to him last Sunday, I promised him that I will be the best that I can be for him. I wouldn’t let him down. He can brag about me to Jesus.

I don’t really believe in goodbyes, as cliché sounding as it may sound, I know that my Lolo and I will see each other again. In the meantime, I can close my eyes and remember the smell of his pomada, hear how he would curse to stress a point, see his smile and the way he would lay contently on his tumba-tumba, relive how he would excitedly open the gate for us and ask, “Kamusta?”

Lolo Kit, kami na ang bahala. Relax ka na lang dyan kasama ni God. Di mo na kailangan tumaya sa Lotto, pwede mo na itanong kay God kung ano ang tatamang numero...

PLEASE VOTE FOR MY CBTL ENTRIES

CHAI[n?] TEA[r?] LATTE[r!]

Dress Code

Vote and comment na. Ang di mag-vote at mag-comment mac-curse ang sex life. =D

CHAI[n?] TEA[r?] LATTE[r!]

It was one of those nights. She was alone, thinking of her “half-meants” and “almost love stories.” As she held her cup of tea, she felt it bring warmth to her unusually cold hands. One sip of her Chai Latte and immediately, she knew what she wanted. A flower of hope blossomed from deeply within her.

We

drink

our

coffee

in silence;

not having

to talk, meet

eye to eye

and interact
is sometimes

easier

and

less

complicated.
The unspoken words are chosen to be unspoken

because they are not mere words but emotions

guised in letters. I watch you purposely, carefully
memorizing how you move and not move. Pretending

to not feel my gaze, I assume, is your way of

protecting you and me. No US, no WE,

just you and me... forgotten. It's really just you.

If you let me, I will talk not through my mouth

but through my heart that silently shouts, "Fool!"

over and over. To be a fool is my comfort, pain is my

wall. There are moments when you're there

yet I don't feel you. I'd rather really
that you hurt me and be there than leave and

bring with you my ability
to feel and be felt.

Don't ever mistake me for sadness,

sadness is my friend.

I am not really alone.

I am with myself.

Go straight to my heart.

I have to write a happier verse.

Rhyme with me. We'll sing-song
our way to happiness -- together.

Depressingly Sweet

You can smile all day, laugh all day, dance around all day until that particular moment. That particular instance when you close your eyes right before you sleep... you get reminded of that one thing that makes you open your eyes again. You stare at the ceiling, anticipating the lukewarm build up of emotions within you.

You smile and your lips slightly extend... just in time to catch the tears journeying your cheeks. Then you fall asleep.

Buntong-hininga

I think I still am crushing on you or crushing on the idea of ME and YOU. Yes, I might've gone overboard by asking you to have coffee with me sometime. I might've ruined it by playing the part of an innocent ex-nongirlfriend / flirtmate. I might've destroyed yet another harmonious coexistence. I don't care. Maybe I do. Yeah, I guess I do care.

It's just that I couldn't help it. You're like my security blanket. Everytime I fall into this human warmth drought, I always come back to you, or to what I believe is an attempt to relive what we had. You're like my Mr. Big. Although, all we have are witty exchanges, flirty gestures and a few extra sweetness once in a while. I do not believe in FOREVER with you, I just think what we have is FUN.

I didn't even ask if you're in a relationship. That's how dangerous I am when you're around. I guess you're not my Mr. Big... but you can be my Mc Dreamy. Either way, I know I'm in for a really really really interesting ride.
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image from POSTSECRET

The World Taught Her Masturbation

image from Postsecret

The world taught her masturbation.

It was more than fifteen years ago when the game started. She sat beside her newfound playmate while he started the engine. Her body trembled along with everything that’s vibrating around her. She felt a spider inching its way up between her legs. The unnamed playmate was at the driver seat, and she was kneeling beside him, waiting for her classmates to finally come.

What’s taking them so long? They’ll miss our game. She watched other kids playing games she played before. This was different. She didn’t have to do anything but she always got rewarded. The controlling playmate took her left hand and directed her to caress what seemed like a bulge inside his pants. “Kailangan mo yan himasin, kasi ahas yan at pag di mo hinimas, tutukain ka.” She nodded.

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

Inside her room, the little girl could hardly hear what her mom and dad were discussing. She couldn’t understand why they looked so upset when she finally told them her secret. A secret that only she and her playmate knew. Wag mo sasabihin sa Mommy at Daddy mo, hindi ka na nila papayagan maglaro pag nalaman nila. But she didn’t intend to tell her Mommy; it was like an accident. While her mom was bathing her, she proudly narrated how her playmate would also touch that place between her legs. It was like a series of games that she always won. Her playmate lavished her with toys. “Kaya nga po madalas ako may mga dalang new toys, Mommy e.” The little girl eagerly bragged with eyes expectant of her Mommy’s approval. She could tell how surprised and proud her Mommy was, the little girl felt triumphant for having achieved something this big. For a second, she thought her Mommy was going to cry.

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

The girl never understood why she couldn’t sit on the passenger seat of her School Bus anymore. Why she wasn’t allowed to talk to her favorite playmate. Why one day, the School Bus stopped fetching her and her playmate stopped playing with her.

She didn’t need to play with anyone anymore. From then on, she decided to just play with herself. She was in control.

The world taught her masturbation because for a time, her playmate was her world.

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DISCLAIMER [added the day after this story was posted]: Didnt think 'twas necessary to write one but apparently IT IS needed. This is FICTION. Please stop sending me messages consoling me for being sexually molested. I mean, I appreciate the concern but seriously, I WASN'T HARASSED.