Actually, I have a wound.

Do you need one, too?
Image from here.

I thought it would go away if I ignored it. I tried putting a band aid on it so I won't see it. When it was painful, I looked the other way and tried to focus on other things so I'd forget the pain.

I was wrong.

Wounds don't heal if you ignore them. They'd fester and grow and gnaw at you. And end up worse than before. They don't heal too if you pay too much attention to it though. It takes time and the right amount of effort for it to heal completely.

And that's exactly what I'll do - take my time to heal. Feel a little less guilty for saying how I feel; be okay with the fact that I still feel offended. Most of the time, it feels like I have no right to feel slighted. That I should be okay with how things are - keep an open mind and be understanding of other people. Listen to them pour their hearts out. Share their pain. Offer words of comfort. All the while holding everything in and trying not to explode. It's my fault too. I have never been a "sharer"; I keep things to myself too much. I really, really, really tried my best. But I realized that I need to fix myself first. Maybe even keep a bit of distance for a while if that's what it takes. I was a fool to believe that everything would return to how it was.

I'm sorry.

Anti-Gloom Campaign

And Miley Cyrus's video will always cheer me up- thanks to you ;)

I hate goodbyes ;(

I Dream a Dream

I.

I dreamt of being stranded in an airport.  I was with Ivan, Zan, and Yshio. Too realistic to be a dream, since just last month, we were indeed stranded in Busuanga airport. Maybe my brain is rehashing memories. I have no idea where we were - where we were headed, or what airport it is exactly - all I knew was we were waiting for a flight that would never come. There are details I've forgotten already.

II.

The next night I dreamt of being in an old cafe in Bacolod. Ivy grew on the walls of the cafe and the windows were made of Capiz shells. There was indecipherable music in the background. I was certain we were in Bacolod, even if there were no physical clues as to where we were. I was with Ivan, Zan, and Yshio again. Ivan had a big album with him that he was showing us. It was full of pictures of our years and years of friendship...

III.

Took a nap and dreamt of zigzags and realized we were in Baguio. Only it was just us two. We were being chased. I don't recall what or who was chasing us. Probably zombies (since I've watched World War Z just the night before). I saw rain clouds on the horizon, grey and plump. We slumped on the floor and slept.

Independence Day

My heart skipped a beat at the sight of...the pool. I didn't know it was possible to feel so at home in the water. Before taking up swimming lessons, I was afraid of it. But now, after only one session, there's a certain sense of calm that washes over me (pun unintended) once I'm in the pool. I want to stay in the water for as long as possible, until my skin is gnarled and I'm too tired to even just glide on the surface. Plus, I like the way I look after a good swim - skin golden brown, nose as red as Rudolph's, my hair sticking out every which way. And my eyes - though tinged with red - reflect joy, contentment, and a realization that I want to be here - in the water. I feel so carefree. My heart continues to skip a beat.

We swam for an hour and a half. I know I could use some more practice. Nahihirapan pa din ako sa breathing when doing freestyle. It's all about timing and I have to work on that. Yesterday, the Pius pool was closed so we swam at the YMCA instead. It's harder to breathe there - the water's too thick with chlorine, it tends to burn your throat when you happen to swallow even just a teeny bit.

**

American Psycho update: I'm almost done, probably down to the last 30 pages of the book. I couldn't contain the events to myself any longer that I tried to entice my brother to listen to me rant about this madman's misadventures. Well, my brother just shook his head, waved me away, and continued watching the Heat-Spurs rerun on TV. Oh well. 

I wonder how Mr. Ellis wrote the book. Did he do a lot of research on serial killers - real life and fictional ones? Ted Bundy? Hannibal? Did he had nightmares after writing this particular book? It's so graphic I shut my eyes every time Bateman strikes. Great writing: I believe every single thing Ellis wrote, even if I know that the chance of him writing this from personal experience is close to nil.

Patrick Bateman makes Hannibal look like an amateur. But at least, Hannibal's "classy". But Bateman....he's out of his fucking mind. I want to place this book next to my DI Rebus series, half hoping that John Rebus springs to life, enters the American Psycho world, and nails the bastard. That'd be nice.

***

Midnight gave birth yesterday - four kittens, two pure black and two black ones spotted with white.

****

I wanted to kiss you on the cheek when we said goodbye but I guess, I was shy. Awkward. One of these days, I'll finally succeed in doing it and then it...really...is...over. Done. Just like when Popoy kissed Basha on the cheek in One More Chance post break up, the first time they saw each other after a year. Sooner or later, I'll be able to do it. Just you wait.

There goes the light, it just went out.



How do I feel? Like crap. Like all my energy just went down the drain. How can a simple picture make me feel so bad? Maybe it was the look in their eyes. They were happy, they were together, and they smiled like they were happy to be together.

I saw him the day after the picture was posted. I was in a funk, out of sorts. Catatonic even. I was sluggish, my voice just above a whisper. I made unremarkable comments about the food, about my day. He said, "Parang matamlay ka yata ngayon." I smirked. I wanted to scream. It's because of you, you idiot! I wanted so bad to tell him. Drag him into my disgusting misery. But I can't, I won't.

We're friends. First and foremost, we're friends. Before I fell in love with him, we were friends first. And friends want their friends to be happy. Whatever feelings I have should be placed in the back burner. Besides, we've already talked about it a couple of times and things never work out. It's just not meant to be. And I want him to be happy. I think he already is.

Good for him. Damn good for him.

I love you, Sabado.

Liar Liar

"The only way you can write the truth is to assume that what you set down will never be read. Not by any other person, and not even by yourself at some later date. Otherwise you begin excusing yourself. You must see the writing as emerging like a long scroll of ink from the index finger of your right hand; you must see your left hand erasing it." - Margaret Atwood


I shouldn't be posting this but what the hell.

I've been scared long enough. So SCREW it.

Last Sunday, I realized that my biggest regret in this crazy-little-thing-called-love is...

Letting you go 12 years ago.

There. I feel better now. That's the truth. And if anyone asks me again, that's what I'm going to say. If YOU ask me again, I will look you in the eye and tell you the truth.

Count your blessings: September in Review

Mom turned 48 years old . Hooray! :D


Blow the candle!

Ivan turned 25 years old. :D

Cheers to more years!

My first time to set foot in Mindanao. First time to eat a sea urchin and I found out it was delicious, too.

Cruised throught the City of Golden Friendship with my bestfriends :)

Was awestruck by the beauty of Katibawasan Falls in Camiguin

Survived the longest zipline in Asia at Dahilayan adventure park

Survived the flashflood while rafting down the Cagayan River

Hmmm, what else?

• Watched the Phantom of the Opera for the first time: one thing that got crossed out my bucket list :D
• Simply spending time with family and friends - goofing around and acting like idiots everytime we see each other
• Dad preparing food for me everyday <3>
• Apologizing to someone, being granted forgiveness, and knowing that you are at peace with the person you look up to as your big brother. It really warms my heart.  :)

There. To tell the truth, September was a pretty rough month for me. There are things, persons even, that I had to let go of, either because of my own choice or because of choices made by other people for me. It's hard writing this post. It's hard to feel cheery at all. However, at the end of the day, there is still sooo much to be thankful for, so many things to be strong for. I don't want to be preachy and I can't speak for everyone else. But I know that what matters now is how we move forward. How we will stay strong - for ourselves and for the people around us. I want to move forward and believe that everything happens for a reason, that there is a higher power at work somewhere and everything will just fall into their right places, that a setback can actually be just another blessing in disguise.

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What was it like to become deaf? She thought about it often. What if she can’t hear hurtful words thrown her way? She can see the offensive person’s lips moving; forming shapes but no sound, no pain, no anger can be heard. Would it be a sure way of avoiding grief? Sometimes, just hearing the voice of the person you despise can shatter your perfect day. It would be wonderful if there was just a mute button somewhere that she can press so as not to hear his voice.

She may not know everything there is to life but this much she knows: friends understand you, without you having to explain. All she was asking for was for him to understand why she had to back out. Friends do not judge. They do not label - well, except for playful labels that friends use to tease each other with. Friends do not make mountains out of molehills - because again, they understand or if they don't, then they TRY.

If only there was a way to block his voice out. If only there was a way not to feel hurt. If only it was easy to cut a person out of your life.

At times like these, she thinks about those who are there for her, who love her despite of all her inconsistencies; people who tell her: "It's alright, you didn't make good on your promise but we still love you." People who are realer than their egos.

I will never have a shortage of brothers.

I already miss them, even though they just bullied me most of the time last Saturday. :)



The three musketeers :)

I hope we'll stay the same even as the years go by. SENTI LANG? Malamang separation anxiety. Hahaha. Ang hirap talaga 'pag manic Mondays, nagiging schizo/emo ang mga tao. The weather's not helping either. :D

Hope you guys have a nice Monday :)

Art Appreciation 101

Me, Jonna, and Shara



It was Shara's idea to interpret jewelry designs found on Pinterest in an attempt to break the monotony of everyday work.This exercise provides comic relief as well. From eccentric rings and comic facial expressions to house architecture, we have now moved on to interpret abstract paintings. It's interesting since Jonna attended painting classes and she was able to educate us on how to make out patterns/meanings in abstract works of art. Our interpretations have improved; we now know that we need to step back and squint, if necessary, to look at the bigger picture, instead of focusing on the nitty-gritty details which, sometimes, hinder authentic understanding. You need to step back and look at the bigger picture. True in art, true in life. Sometimes, all you need is a change of perspective.

Happy Monday everyone! :)

Do One thing Everyday that Scares you: Pt. 2

Day 2: Admit your insecurities to someone

Thankful that that someone always listens to my issues. Listens patiently and objectively.

Image from here.