doubts

my heart feels that there is something wrong with how things are but i cannot say which exactly.
since the new relationship has started, this is the first time i have felt like this. i have always been sure. now though, i feel like everything was brought about by impulsivity and childishness.

i think he is only with me because of the company. i'm not sure if i should just accept it for what it is. i would have, so easily, but things have changed. we have gone deeper. we have proclaimed feelings and sworn expectations, exchanged words you can't just take back. we're at the point of make-or-break.

tell me now, love. is it worth it?

some nights are for doubting

Is it ever going to work?
Are you going to hurt me? Can you tell me now?
I'm already in too deep.
Because days come when you feel like you can but end up wishing you didn't.

let the kemerat decide

so it's summer and the moon is full
intoxication
driving around the orbit of this universe
thinking of the parallels
and if we are happy there
straight and fast
is the way out of this bus stop
somehow
after all we've seen
the music we took to our dreams
the images we lived by
we are not brave enough
and thinking about how bright it could be
how beautiful
everything more than the rainbow over the top of a mountain
hazed by the dew
why don't you dive in
straight and fast

passive-aggressive things / pride

I was wrong, I know. I should have told him that I was wrong.
Now I'm too tired.

I should put a stop this and learn how to be alone once and for all. I only think it's helping me because it inspires me to do things and be afraid of disappointing someone. I need someone to impress because I don't give a damn what I (or others) would think, I only care about what someone special to me would think.

It's sad. I have a sad life. A sad existence. Accept it.

You know what's a really fun activity? Writing alone.

I am woman. I don't need anyone.
Men are terrified of me, just as they should be
I own both heaven and hell; saints and sinners at my command
I say what I want, do as I please; I don't answer to demands

like a moth to a flame

It's 7pm. In twelve hours, it will be my two younger brothers' graduation ceremonies. I should be going to my parents' house so I can be there tomorrow but obviously, I'm here, typing this.

I've always wanted to write, I just never learned how. Or maybe, it's not really the act of writing, but the self-expression that attracted me to it and keeps attracting me back to it. Two weeks without writing for work has made me fall back in love with the beauty of free-flowing thoughts and feelings turned to words.

I know that to be able to write better I should read more. It is not very easy though, given my current state. It's all chaos in here. My thoughts and feelings are all over the place and I have no way to contain them nor do I know how to express them creatively. So I resort to what I know, venting through journal pieces with only myself as an audience.

I pity myself sometimes, not having a passion for anything. I am too content, too happy when I'm not crazy that I forget that being passionate is what life is for. Crazy creates passion and I should not restrict it. If I want to stop being crazy I might as well start having a full-time job; be a normal human being for the rest of my life. But I always choose to digress, and with it comes the trouble. I fail at being normal time and again, miserably.

So I fall back to this, to what I am at the moment; the real me. I shouldn't have to stop knowing myself, just to be pleasant to other people. I know I can be destructive when I don't watch it but my best writing pieces have come from crazy times. I also know that writing was not what I chose to do. I chose to be a manager, a logistics person, not a maker, not a creative, so naturally, I had to keep my head levelled and sane.

Is that what I really want though? I know I can be good if I put my head in it. So let's be good. Let's write. Let's keep doing what we've always wanted to do. It hurst both in the head and in the heart but it's better than not fulfilling what I have been put in this beautiful world to do. Yeah, write. Keep writing. Even if it hurts. Even if it means losing everything. LET IT BURN.

hey now

I know I have to get my shit together. Get more projects or get a new job.
I've been wanting to do more writing lately. I'm just not confident that I'm good enough so I keep shoving the thought away but it's the only thing I keep going back to.

cheap metaphors
over-thought weather conditions
romanticized concrete buildings
make-believe grit
exaggerated sunshines
imaginary yellows and pinks
maybe i'd like to live for these things

i will be alright

i like the sun

its striking heat

light

because it does not remind me of you

or it does

but it doesn't hurt as much

as the moon

in broad daylight

i feel nostalgic in a good sense

in an i'm glad it happened but i'm also okay to let go sense

i like it when i can't write poetically

because it means i'm not letting the feelings control me

it was fun is all that i have to say about it

Tell All

So here is what happened:

I went out with my ex and some friends one night. I kissed my ex's friend/bandmate. Just a bit. Not a total make out. I don't know why I did it. Maybe I thought I'd just try. Primarily because i was being crazy at the time.

The next day, my boyfriend broke up with me, which I didn't have any problem following through. I've been thinking of calling it off in, maybe, months.

I invited my ex's friend/bandmate, an almost-stranger, to my place the next day. I just really wanted to watch a movie. I had no intentions of sleeping with him but maybe I thought it would be unfair if we didn't have sex since I asked him to go all the way. And maybe it was also because he was really nice. I'm not sure anymore. Throughout the night, I started to notice how cool, nice, different he is... and my attraction for him grew. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that he was a virgin, and 9 years younger.

After he left, I went out with some friends. I got upset and walked out of the bar we were drinking in. This ex-fling of mine followed me and took me to my apartment. I really thought nothing would happen. He was about to sleep when I started smoking weed. He asked me for some. That's when it started.

So there was knocking on the door. I got nervous. I had a hunch. I could feel it in my guts. True enough, it's my recent ex right outside the door.

It was crazy. Pretty violent. A giant mess of a turd.

Two days later was our last show. My ex-fling left the after-party with another girl.

I got wasted and asked almost-stranger to come over, he has just arrived from an out-of-town gig.

I think we had sex. Maybe we did. That was Sunday night.

He stayed for brunch the next day then left.

Tuesday, my housemate and I went to the laundromat. Then guy bestfriend, housemate, and I had dinner out. Ex-fling came and we all went out for drinks. We continued drinking at home. They slept over and left early evening the next day.

Almost-stranger came over again Wednesday night. Day before an event (work). I was starting to get attached to him, I think. I haven't had any sleep and I was struggling with work. Around midnight, no sleep yet and all, my sister called. She's at the police station with her boyfriend. They got arrested. So naturally I had to go to them and get them out of there.

After that, I went straight to work. It was hell. It was very hard. And in the afternoon, almost-stranger called, asking if the night my recent ex-boyfriend came over, I was in bed with another guy. I said yes. God, I thought I couldn't feel any worse but I did. I felt my whole world just crumble. I liked this almost-stranger. I really did.

I smoked a cigarette during work. Something I don't usually do.

After work, I went to my friend's place. We call it the M Place. We usually hang out there to get wasted. I was supposed to meet with almost-stranger to talk but he bailed.

Almost-stranger went to my house the next day. Of course we had sex. I asked him why he got upset, he said, "I forgot what this was." He also said I'm too crazy. After the sex, "Maybe we shouldn't get too close." He said, "yeah," and left.

That made me sad. I really, really liked him.

My crazy ex had been bugging me non-stop after that, telling me to stop seeing almost-stranger.

He was prom date for someone on Saturday. Ex-fling slept over (for a bit). I had an event Sunday. He came over noon-time on Monday. He told me that he has to take a break seeing me. Then we had lunch; he paid.

That afternoon, guy bestfriend and I drank at my house with another guy friend. Then we went out to drink some more and smoke.

The same night I fell off a fence. Did I do it unintentionally on purpose? I knew I was going to fall. Maybe I wanted to get hurt. It was just all too much.

The next day, girl bestfriend and crazy ex visited me at home. Crazy ex had pizza delivered.

The next day, Wednesday, guy bestfriend, crazy ex, and almost-stranger visited. At night, my sister and her boyfriend came over. Crazy ex go upset that when I tried being sweet with almost-stranger. He left. The rest of us had dinner out. Then almost-stranger left. Then 2 guy friends arrived. Then everybody else left.

2 guy friends and I went to our house to meet about an upcoming pro bono project. Almost-stranger came over. Crazy ex is mad. I was afraid that I had just ruined a kid's life. But apparently, no, I hadn't.

Thursday, I went to my mentor writer's place to brainstorm. Guy friend went with me but left early. I stopped by a bar where my friends where hanging out because I left my keys and my housemate was in the bar. Same night, I called almost-stranger to tell him this new story for a film pitch. He has to drop his mom off at the airport at 4am so he dropped by my place after. Gave him head.

Friday, I went out to meet feisty girl friend in UP. We smoked a lot then had tea/dinner. Then I asked guy friend R to come over and help me with my synopsis. We went to bar nearby but I didn't drink of course. i tried writing that night.

Friday night/Saturday dawn, almost-stranger arrived from an out-of-town gig. He slept while I tried to write until the next day morning but couldn't because I was chatting with my girl housemate.

My gay housemate arrived from work then a few hours later. Almost-stranger woke up. Former housemate arrived. We all hanged out. Almost-stranger left for band practice.

Rest of us went out that night to eat and drink (not me). I thought I didn't like almost-stranger anymore because he just had 6 lines of coke and he told me that my crazy ex saw me he didn't know I was there. Pretty fucked up.

After going out with my crazy ex/his bandmate, almost-stranger went to the bar where I was. It was so much fun and sweet and I just couldn't help but fall.

He went home with me of course. But I couldn't focus on the sex, I had too much in my mind.

I had to go to my hometown the next day so I knew I wouldn't see him for a while.

But I went back to QC on Tuesday. And we had lunch with housemate and it was fun and I just kept on falling for him even more.

That night, after band practice, he came over. Then we had great fucking sex. He was getting good at it, learning to be more in control.

Then on the same night, he broke my heart.

Dry the Rain

The hardest part? The littlest things. Although I think I have learned to suppress. Not let myself get engulfed by a strand of hair, piece of cigarette, a whisper of my name, again, and again.

Every time I'm in a relationship, I lost a bit of myself that I like. I get out of a relationship wondering how and why I let it happen and try to pick up the pieces from there, thinking maybe I can still put it all back together.

It doesn't help that I meet someone I like and is also someone I would like to be or would like myself to be more of. And this person doesn't like me as much so what does that say about me?

She's Not Okay

The beginning of the year has been crazy. It has only been 3 months and yet, so much has already happened. And yet, I still don't regret anything.

When this accident happenned, there came a point when I did not know if I was going to make it. There was a wave of uncertainty in the world. I thought, any minute I could die. I was not particularly scared. I just would have preferred to live. But I was okay with the thought that nothing comes after death.

Maybe I needed that. So I would stop being scared to move. Accept the finity of life.

Some days I feel like I knew I was going to fall. Some days I think it was just an accident caused by recklessness. Whatever it was, it brought me to this new life.

Self-Confidence

pagod na pagod na ako with all these feels. i can't get myself to write. anxious na naman kasi ako na baka i won't be able to do it right. tapos nakakahiya, baka maka-disappoint lang ako. ano naaaaa

Endings

When something hurts so much, I fall desperate. I want to let you know that I have fallen in love with you. And that feelings like this don't get washed away so easily. Give me time. Time I would rather have with you. For now, I give myself time. To mend myself. To be a better person. Then maybe, maybe you would love me back. Or maybe, I wouldn't love you anymore.

EXPECTATIONS

There are so many things to do but I just want this quick break from it all.

Life is killing me.

Why can't I just be a fucked up 27-year girl who is trying to figure herself out while trying to figure life out while just fucking trying? Why do I have to be THIS and THIS and THIS? Why am I supposed to GROW UP? Why am I supposed to STAY YOUTHFUL? Why am I supposed to do GREAT THINGS? Why am I supposed to always make BEAUTIFUL THINGS? Sometimes I make ugly things too and I love them all the same. Because I made them. Because I'm allowed to make mistakes. Because FAILURE is actually NOT A BAD THING WITHOUT ALL THESE PEOPLE LOOKING AT YOU. What is she going to do next? Oh my God, she did what? She's crazy. She's beautiful. She's smart. Why can't I be OKAY? Why can't I be NICE? I want to be okay and nice. I was okay and nice ten years ago. I want to try new things. But without everyone staring. I want to just keep trying like I have been and not care if the outcome would be good or not. I want to go places. I want to go to New York and walk in old subways, visit vintage record stores, and watch a band in some hole-in-a-wall. I want to go to Tokyo, get lost in the streets, try all the good food and get drunk on sake. I want to go to Whistler, go snowboarding until my body aches, stay in a cozy cottage, make tea, and watch snow fall outside my window. I want to go back home to my family, spend rainy days with them, play more board games, eat more of my mom's cooking. I want to read more books, listen to more music, and write more poems, without any judgment, without caring about similar or different tastes. And if none of these happen, WHO CARES? I'll probably do something else and WHO THE FUCK CARES?

Just let me do things. Please. Let me go my own way.

When you're tired from a full week's work, go home.

The past months have been cruel, ruthless, and I had no choice but to live through it. So when I finally had the chance, I gave myself permission to act immaturely for a while, just to release some pent-up emotions, and therefore, cultivating measly attempts at self-destruction.

Last night, I told myself I'm going to stay away from alcohol for now, not only to give my liver a break but to balance by body chemicals too; I have been having severe mood swings and it would be really unwise to push it. See, I have been trying to be more responsible and to put discipline back in my programming.

So I turned down a couple of invites last night hoping to spend a quiet night at home: play a few rounds of Hearthstone, watch a movie, write a little, fall asleep, wake up early to jog. And so at 12mn--right after work--I went straight home, content. I was proud of myself.

But family pressure is more powerful than the peers. Cousins, aunts, and uncles calling you at 1AM is always serious business. You know what's going down as they pass the phone from one drunken family member to the next. You feel powerless and only manage to to squeak out a pitiful "no, I cannot come" causing them to raise hell as you try to calm them down and mumble bits of pathetic explanations. And then you know the ending. You should never--YOU JUST NEVER--say no.

So I booked a GrabCar from QC to Makati in the middle of the night, still tired from a full week's work, shaking my head at the absurdity of it all.

I arrived in twenty minutes as if the driver knew my life depended on how fast I could get there. Everyone cheered as I entered, and God, how I missed this; the few people who have seen you cry your lungs out, throw fits, bitch around, destroy the house, make wrong decisions, disappoint everyone around you, and grow up to be the real piece of greatness that you are now.

They scold me for attempting to say no as we recalled our childhood, swimming at icky fish ponds, scraping every part of our body during adventures, summer vacations in Pangasinan, firt-times and last-times. Then we talked about growing up, some things fucking up, how life isn't all dandy, not being where we imagined ourselves to be, not seeing each other as often, having kids--the pros and cons of it all, being each other's ninongs and ninangs, when's the next inuman, and just never saying no.

So here I am lying in bed, waking up too late for a jog, curled up with a familiar case of a hangover, thinking, hey, I have the best family ever. I may have been having shitty days and it may have been unwise to be drinking alcohol again, but I knew why I had to come; when shit goes down, all I really have to do is give them a call in the middle of the night and they'd be there, handing me cheap brandy on the rocks.