Lamoxtra 973.18

Nakatulala ako sa langit. Gabi na’t madilim. Naririnig ko paminsan ang mga lamok na lumalapit sa aking mga tainga, ngunit pilit kong hinahayaan. Subukan nilang pumasok at papalakpakan ko sila hanggang sa mga katawan nila’y rumupok, masira’t maligo sa sarili nilang mga dugo. Hindi naman siguro masyadong morbid bilang mga lamok lamang sila. Mga lamok na may sariling pananaw sa buhay, may sariling batas, at may sariling paraan kung paano mabuhay.

Isipin mo, matagal na din pala akong nakatingala, at paunti-unti nang sumasakit ang aking mga leeg. Wala akong makita, ni piraso ng bituin, o kahit man lang kapiranggot na anyo mula sa mga ulap… nang maisip ko din. Nasaan ang buwan? Bakit mailap sa akin ang mga bagay na gusto kong makita? Nasaan ang mga tuldok ng liwanag? Ano nga ba ang ginagawa ko dito sa labas? Nakatingin na ang mga tao sa akin, mga taong may iba-ibang lakad at hangarin. Yung iba’y para makauwi sa kanilang mga tirahan, kumain dahil kailangan na nilang maghapunan, o magpa-load o bumili ng Sarsi, habang ako’y nakatingala lamang. Nakatingala sa mga bagay na walang kapararakan, at walang patutunguhan. Nakatingala sa mga bagay na hindi ko pa alam kung ano ang kahihinatnan sa huli, sa mga bagay na nais kong makita, ngunit kahit anong pilit ko’y wala.

Nasaan na nga ba ang mga lamok? Pati ba sila’y mailap na rin? O baka sa kanilang mga pananaw, batas, at paraan, ay unti unti na nila akong pinapalakpakan.

On Writing

It’s very easy for me to come up with stuff, like I could just go on and on about an abstract topic, and inject some metaphors in there, maybe use some words I’ve been excited to use for a very long time just because it sounds cool, or just because it sounds highly intelligent, but I want to stop writing essays or thoughts about something since it’s not very productive in my opinion.

But the hard part is this. I can’t seem to write a short story because I don’t have guidelines or… something. Something that would enable me to write. Like a site that can conjure something up in my brain, or a blog, or just plain old, “Start with this… then do this… then build up on this… and end with this.” sort of stuff.

As much as I love to write essays and abstracts on topics I’m very interested in, or even something I only had a vague concept of, I’m not a very organized writer. I sometimes tend to cut out on punctuation marks, rearrange my sentences, or delete a whole paragraph easily. I’m not entirely sure how to design my thoughts since I spontaneously write and just go on infinitely until I find the perfect conclusions. I don’t know if it’s just me or if it’s a problem with everyone else, that’s why I want to try to write in a more disciplined format so it would enable me to brush up on my writing skills since I also have a lot of visions in my mind, but just can’t seem to write them off. I would always end up being too stressed about the chaos of writing too much and then eventually end up spoiling the whole material, then finally scrapping off the material in its entirety, not bothering to even think about returning to it anymore.

It sucks, but I really want to start writing. Any tips?

My room is making me fly, but not quite.

My room is making me fly, but not quite.

Lay Down In Swimming Pools

It was just late morning, the sun was not yet at its height. The fur bedding added too much warmth over my plain white shirt.

"Wake up, you need to wear trunks." My mom was waking me up.

It was not very hard to rise anyway. The sweat, the brightness of summer seeping through the windows. It baffles me so much why the windows bring too much light but not cool air, at least. Today was Maundy Thursday and it still brings me to laughter every time I think about a very lame joke about the day being both Maunday and Thursday.

I glance at the hands. It’s 11:40 AM. Not a very good time to start a day in the scorching heat. Temperature’s at about 30 degrees Celsius, not a sky full of clouds, I thought. People starting to pack the streets, Visita Iglesia just finished. I used to walk through 14 churches some years past, but I never prayed like how I should have. It was more of a fun walk and a slight tour for me, rather than a pilgrim. I wore flip flops while devotees walked barefoot on burning, coal-hot sometimes muddy or sharp ground. Everyone’s usually in their plain denims and white shirts printed with Jesus Christ’s image in monotone.

"You haven’t packed your bags yet! You’ll be leaving at half-past twelve!"
"Yes."

I am the kind of person who can be about a hundred percent conscious, instantly just after waking up. Other people would seem to be out of their mood, would rather not talk, or would just make a face like the whole world’s asking them to solve a math problem. I am the exact opposite. I can listen to the loudest music possible, or even check my Facebook without the chains from last night’s sleep. But not today. Maybe because of the heat, I am just sitting on my bed, piercing a hole in the ground with my stare not thinking about anything. Aha! Maybe I want to see who the devotees were today.

In my messed up sleepwear, I got out of bed, mussed my hair a little and went out. Everyone who walked, I know them by name. No one greets me, or nod. Give them a break. I thought. They were tired and they’re more than excited to eat their lunches, more than my excitement to take a bath.

Bath! I thought again. Why will I be going to the hotel today? I remember. There would be a water interruption and I’m going to be so doomed. But then, I also have a strong feeling like there’s still going to be running water from the tap, because I am usually lucky at things I’m not proud of getting lucky at, like having the first seats on the bus, or successfully opening a pack of M&M’s with mostly blue ones. I never won any raffle draws, or correctly picked the last number for the school’s group presentation, but I always get the most awesome book titles in second-hand stores or book sales, and just like today, yes, water on the tap’s pretty much unlimited.

Off to the bath I go. The water is awesome. It feels good to have cold water running down from your head to your feet. I would sometimes sing a little Lana del Rey song, or Beyoncé, mostly her ad libs on concerts and live performances. It makes me scrub myself a little more longer than when I’m doing my business solemnly. I think of the bath as a ritual and it feels too short and insincere without uttering lines from Beyoncé’s songs. I sometimes find harmony and contentment in things when I do it my own way. It’s my little idea of finding something special and extraordinary from things uneventful like washing dishes or sitting on a chair. I could go on and on all day about the weird stuff I inject in life, but right now I’m taking a bath. I have no exciting thoughts about the hotel. About what to eat there, or if I should swim, or just sleep, or if I could meet people. Then I thought I could read by the swimming pools. I should bring George R.R. Martin’s ‘A Clash of Kings’ with me.

The moment I got out of the bath, the temperature’s back, and like droplets on your skin magically turn from just water from the showers to sweat. I pat myself dry and put on my shorts that I just took off from the night before, like I’m not going anywhere. I don’t have to go to the hotel really, there’s water anyway. I don’t think I’ll be going anywhere at this rate.

I opened my laptop, checked some notifications, and listened to Sugababes. I stumbled upon a song called Lay Down In Swimming Pools. Sugababes as Siobhan, Mutya and Keisha debuted in 1998 and released their first album two years later. After the success of their debut single, and the course of their promotions for the album, Siobhan left, and Heidi took her place. The second line up’s a bit better for me than the first one since they released more successful singles and they sounded real better. Then after some years, Mutya left, and her spot were taken by Amelle. The line up started to change the group’s whole appeal. Now, Keisha’s the only original member left, and because of lineup changes, they had minimal success with their materials. As expected, Keisha was then eventually sacked off of the group, then replaced by Jade. It’s as if the original members had to graduate some time and be replaced by someone else. In a span of about ten years or more, the three original members got back together and formed a group called Mutya Keisha Siobhan and released a song that can be considered a flop. I searched for their name, and found out that they also released another song. The title was not very appealing and I already made prejudgments about the song. Who would listen to a song titled Lay Down In Swimming Pools? Well, I did.

I never paid attention to the lyrics of the song, but the first line, I wanna stay… proved to be too much powerful. I ended up staying and ditched the hotel thing. The summer heat begs me to lay down in swimming pools, or read a book somewhere near its vicinity, or drink cold and fancy coffee in the cafe, but then I didn’t. I laid down in my bed instead of swimming pools, and fell asleep after listening to the song for about seven times in a row.

Because I think my room looks awesome, but then sometimes, I think it’s not.

Because I seriously don’t know what to put in this blog anymore, and it’s a bit awkward posting something because it might not match up with the upped contents, but it’s still your blog anyways so people shouldn’t give a damn. And then you’re thinking all of it only by yourself, like everything’s just in your head, but you’re still confused if you should post something or not. I mean… it’s been a long time, and posting something’s a bit out of place, or, weird. Or…

But deleting this blog is never an option.

Finally, my Murakami collection’s complete!

Finally, my Murakami collection’s complete!

Friendships are not flowers

There are only a few things that can make me cry real bad. A perfect heartbreaking story from a book or a movie, judgments from the people unexpected, and worst, the feeling of being rejected and underappreciated.

I am half strong of a person. I also cower, I cry and most importantly, I get affected. Whether it be little things, or not so little ones, I get hurt easily.

There were people from my past that I’m certain, they’ve hurt me, or I’ve hurt them in my own way. I experienced being hurt in different intensities, and I don’t care about how hard the direct impact was. I care more about how much it affected me, or how much I try to struggle to forget, or how much it tortures me for a long period of time.

I can still recount every people I tried to ignore from the moment they’ve hurt me, and those were the people I’m certain I’m never gonna talk with them again, not even in my entire future. You may think it’s sad and filled with grudge, but as much as I can tell by the way I can carry it, it’s as easy as unlearning and forgetting someone, like you didn’t even know them ever. Like you don’t even know they existed, or just about ignoring the fact that this certain person came across your life, but you’d rather think they didn’t even cross your path. Those were the people who belong to that kind who inflicted maybe too much or not too much pain, but for some reason, made you turn your back away from them, never trying to rekindle relationships again.

Then there are also people that no matter how grave their fault was, no matter how much they tortured and hurt you, you can forgive them and accept what they did in just a finger snap, or in just about three days. Those are the people who may or may not need to say their apologies, but even if they don’t, eventually their hearts will talk to you in an intimate manner, and right away, you can easily understand that they were just being human, and mistakes happen sometimes, and they are forgivable.

And lastly, there are people who may not be hurting you directly, but they ignore you, set you aside, or act like you don’t even exist, or that you’re just a simple tool. Something that can be used whenever they feel like it, or whenever they’re bored, or whenever they get tired of other things. And for me, those people are the ones who hurt me the most, more than people who tried to cause me pain directly. More than people who stepped over me, or pulled me from below. Those are the people you considered close to, but they didn’t, or maybe did… in the past. Those are the people who can talk with you for hours… in the past. Those people who can go naked in front of you without judgments… in the past. And in an instant, they’re gone. Away. Idle at some place, or maybe having a blast because of your non-presence.

Relationships grow over time, but relationships are not like flowers. Though relationships bloom beautifully, like how flowers do it, in reality, flowers only show you how beautiful they are, how fragrant their smell is, but you’re the only one responsible for their growth. Not water them enough, they’ll dry up. Not help them receive their dose of sunlight, they’ll turn yellow. Not talk with them, they won’t stay strong and bloom grandly.

Unlike relationships, flowers are a bit one sided. Not that they have a choice to help you or anything, but flowers can’t be as beautiful without someone who exerted an effort. With relationships though, one-sided effort may be deemed useless, and you can’t technically call it a ‘relation’ship. You should’ve grown a flower instead. With relationships, people talk with each other, take good care of one another, but then it doesn’t really happen every time. Sometimes, you’re just doing everything alone.

Friendships end when one grows apart from the other. Not really grow apart together at the same time, because usually, one may feel more caring about the other, while the other one may not feel the exact same way. The former may always tend to miss, reminisce and feel nostalgic about things, while the latter may just prefer to go his own way and just live on his present, without getting interacted and affected by what happened in the past.

At some point in time, maybe people may just choose to go on their own lives without your consent or knowledge. Not everyone can be friends forever, even if you took vows and hundreds of pinkie promises. Maybe people can forget easily knowing that they can find better replacements. Maybe people can just disregard others’ feelings since they really can’t step on someone’s shoes and they don’t know how hard it is for the other person to feel left out. Maybe people just don’t know how to say goodbye, and turning around gradually may be the best way to mark their farewells.

For the sake of each other, perhaps, the only good way is to just help them do their farewell, and while they’re quietly leaving you alone walking in your own path, you instead do the honor in turning left or right, finding a quicker way to progress and move forward to where you’re going, without waiting for that person you’re not even sure of, if they’ll ever walk with you again. It’s just a simple gesture, for that person to be free from the guilt, the regrets, and for yourself, knowing that if you don’t quicken up your footsteps, you’ll just end up waiting, and hurting, when you can actually overtake, and wave goodbye to that person with your own hands.

That’s what I’ll be doing from now on. I don’t need people who don’t need me. I need to be strong for myself and for others who might deem me as important as how I feel for them. There’s never a long period for anyone to look for new horizons or fix dysfunctional things. Everything that’s been served in the table, everything in front of us, that’s what matters most.

Day 1 | 131120

LAST YEAR:

Woke up at 7, and watched Breaking Dawn again from my crappy downloaded file. The day was uneventful though. More more tweets with people I love, and downloaded I Am… World Tour, and waited for my birthday.

THIS YEAR:

Woke up somehow late, and went on with my morning. Read a lot of chapters on Catching Fire and went off to work. I’m still not feeling very active and talkative, like I only said very few stuff the whole day. Then get out early and went to Bonifacio High Street and drown myself in books.

I’ve read few chapters from Marquez’ novel, and then met Ross nuna which made my night super super special.

And then went home, reading more. And then Alyssa came and talked for a few about Starbucks planner, life and all.

Day 2 | 131119

LAST YEAR:

Had lasagna and pizza for breakfast. The day was not eventful. Just downloaded FLAC files of Regina, Beyoncé, etc. Was spazzing the whole day about Breaking Dawn part 2, so I downloaded the cam version.

THIS YEAR:

Started reading Catching Fire early in the morning, and though I’m running late, I never missed reading inside the train and while walking to the office.

Work had been stressful and I hated it most when someone provokes you by purpose, and then pat you on the back afterwards, saying not to be so much affected about it. But I blew it. I’m really offended, and I didn’t feel so good. I spent about four hours, quiet, just working alone with my iPod and a silenced earphone for my own isolation. I just wanna scream and run, and I actually scream at people around so I decided to just stay quiet.

Good thing I have classes so I can leave early.

I then went to class, and went to Toast Box afterwards to sip a hot Teh. And then went home while reading.

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Themed by: Hunson