A Poem for J, 08/25/15.

I'm hard to be with,

I'm cheesy and blue,

But I'd like to climb mountains

and eat pierogis with you.

All flowers in time bend towards the sun

All Flowers In Time Bend Towards The Sun; Jeff Buckley and Elizabeth Fraser.

It's been awhile since I last wrote in this blog, and it also seems as if a lifetime of events has happened since then. I think that from now on, when I write, I will preface each entry with a song that means a lot to me at the moment. Apparently, Jeff and Liz collaborated because they were infatuated with each others' voices. Isn't that sweet? I also really love this verse:

"All flowers in time bend towards the sun / I know you say that there's no one for you, / but here is one."

I remember September of 2014 being especially difficult and dark. It's nice to know that from where I stand, it's much lighter, and for this I'm thankful. May to July of this year were especially unforgiving, and on July 23rd I had a terrible panic attack that resulted in my parents sending me off to a Christian retreat in Batangas. At the time I was still struggling with money (one of my key insecurities at this age, actually), as well as a whole host of other things about adult life that I'd previously been trying to run away from. 

The people behind the retreat are dear friends, and so they sponsored my stay. Evangelical Christians can be a little bit overzealous whenever a secular person toys with the thought of using religion as a coping mechanism. That being said, I feel that my going to the retreat was actually meant to happen. After that retreat, that amount of time allowed me to screw my head back on properly; to reflect and pray about the things that caused me fear in the first place.

After that, a lot of things certainly changed. I'm not sure if it was due to me changing my mindset (as my older sister often likes to tell me to do when I am depressed), or if it was divine timing. Maybe a little bit of both.

One of my core beliefs in life is that everything is cyclical. Whenever you're at your worst, know that better things are yet to come. 

At one point, I was very much depressed about being single (in addition to 'grownup problems'), and this is because I felt that no one liked me in this country. Most of the men I considered worthy enough to date me were based abroad. As a result, I developed a coping mechanism that I wish I had when I was younger, and that was to be keenly aware about my boundaries and standards, as well as unfairly branded Pinoy boys unworthy to date me. If a man stayed on my mind past a month, it meant that there was something special about him. Funnily enough, when I stopped dragging relationships on longer than they should, that was when people started coming into my life. 

They're Called Heliconias,
090815.

In late August, I began talking to someone who I always admired from afar, and we spent Sunday together at his farm in Cavite. We continue to talk until today.

 I can tell that he is a gentle soul and I am quite fond of him. Being around him calms me down, and I don't have to swallow 2 Valiums/be stoned out of my mind/chain smoke out of nervousness around him. It's a novel and refreshing feeling. He is a take-charge kind of man, the kind that looks after everyone. He is also Pinoy, which makes me laugh because after chasing mediocre white men for awhile, I went back to loving boys with brown skin (which has always been my preference, anyway).

 I wonder how my relationship with this man will progress in the future, and where  the two of us will be the next time I decide to open this blog again.

That aside, things are much better now than they were earlier this year and things just seem to be getting better every day. For that, I'm really grateful.

I need coffee

I have always loved with wild abandon. Whether person or passion, the truth is that I have a tendency to dive right in and give everything I’ve got. I can already hear the people, the men especially, shouting warnings to their kin. “Oh, look! Here comes the Crazy Woman! Better run away or she’ll fall in love with you!” Sometimes I wonder if my propensity for deep love, and the fact that people know it, is what drives them away in fear. This used to bother me, before I was comfortable by myself.

Unfortunately, society is not made to accommodate wild lovers like me. They encourage us to tame that animal instinct, to place a heavy yoke around Heart’s neck and put it in a cage, to let Logic reign supreme. We are taught to fear our feelings instead of to sit with them and befriend them. That to be open about feelings is an act of bravery, or even foolishness. “Feelings are the enemy! Let’s build more walls to keep them out! Fuck feelings!” All Emotionally Open People, here’s the memo. Comply or run the risk of complete and public humiliation. Cordially yours, Messrs. Logical, Rational, Pragmatic, Practical Thinkers.

I’m cupping my hands over my ears, I don’t like this memo. So here’s what I’m gonna do: I’m just going to go up and kiss Logical, Rational, Pragmatic and Practical on the mouth, see how they like it. See if they ever even saw it coming. I assure you, they didn’t.

Today's headline reads: WILD WOMAN SWOOPS IN, THINKERS HAVE LOST THEIR MINDS!

Currently: Logical is pacing back and forth, creating grooves in the carpet where he steps, replaying the scenario again and again. Rational is freaking out because his favourite sack of marbles appear to have been misplaced (I pocketed them while I was squeezing his buttocks and biting his lower lip). Pragmatic is picking the skin off his fingers, it’s a nervous tic he’s carried since he was six. Practical has taken to Facebook, stalking photos and posts for clues.

At the end of the day, I’m still alone, but a little bit more pleased with myself than I should be.

WIP, 04142015.

The past year and a half, I've spent
building walls.

My hands are calloused and rough
from all the weight
of the tools I've acquired
to keep intruders out.

These walls, they're taller
than the pedestals I made
for my past lovers.
I'm not sure how I feel about this.

What a princess I would make,
a sight for sore eyes, dirty and determined
to build her castle by herself.
"Nope, no damsel in distress am I! No sir!"

The entire kingdom can hear me yelling.
"Nope! I don't need a man! I'm happy on my own!"
I wonder if they know
that I'm lying half the time.

In my haste, I've forgotten to make windows.
There's no light, but I guess
I confess:
I miss the sun.

anecdotes about random men, 04122015.

you are tall. taller than most of your peers by at least a head. you are lean. lean enough to look streamlined in your black slacks, matching belt and leather shoes and oxford shirt. all flat lines and angles. this indicates that you pay attention to how you dress; i love a man who knows what looks good on his body. i do not ever remember having noticed you before, but i definitely notice you now. i have known of you for more than a decade, your name thrown around carelessly among so many others that you all blend into one entity, as is typical when you are friends with an entire class from ateneo high school. or maybe my memory is failing me as i advance in age.

it occurs to me that you are touchy-feely around the girlfriends of your friends. it also occurs to me that i wish it was my shoulders that your arms would swoop over and grab, if only to drunkenly escort me to the bar. we are both single, after all.

i notice that you are a shitty dancer, but you love doing it alone. that is probably the only thing we have in common; letting our freak flags fly with wild abandon on the dance floor. i love when i ask you a question, your default answer is to close your eyes and smirk, and shrug your shoulders. you also do not notice that i am aggressively flirting with you, it almost feels like a slight. god, that's infuriating. truth is, i love a man who can infuriate me. it makes me want him more.

you are brimming with confidence, and that is a double-edged sword. i noticed it when you bought us all drinks when we decided to continue the party elsewhere. what with your newly-minted lawyer's salary, of course you can afford to spend that much on booze to impress your lady friends! of course you can! not that i'm complaining, no, because i never turn away free booze. i also noticed that when you smile for photos, you show all your teeth - i'm reminded of the faces apes make when they are threatened. you are probably the only person i know whose beauty is diminished when you smile. as i got to know you when you brought me home, there was more of you not to like. "women are commodities, just like men are commodities," you declared in the car, a little too over-confidently as we neared my house. i got out of the car, making an empty promise to hang out with you again - we are neighbors, after all - although i know deep in my heart of hearts we probably won't.

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

you are short. shorter than me by an inch. by virtue of this alone, i would never have noticed you, because i have imposed a superficial height limit upon the men i date (5'9 minimum, in case you wanted to know). i am beginning to understand why people think i am intimidating at first when i do not notice them.

unlike most filipinos, you have lidded eyes. not as heavily-lidded as mine, but noticeable enough to make you appear sleepy and disaffected - very much in line with the hipster image you so strongly try to cultivate. it is those eyes that i had the pleasure of looking into several times, and not by accident. i was testing the waters of propriety at that point, staring at you staring at me as you played a song i love on guitar, while i sang. our feet were touching as we faced each other, an indication i permitted you into my personal space. everyone around us was busy getting hammered; noticing us was the last of their priorities at that point. i think, during one of those many staredowns, that i accidentally glimpsed your soul, or that perhaps, you allowed me to.

"let's smoke in my tent," you offered, after we both agreed that the mogadon we crushed and snorted seemed to have little effect on us. i only recall the minty feeling it left on my nostrils. it was then i drew the conclusion that you had a high tolerance for drugs and alcohol. it's something i consider when i date men, because my own tolerance for substances is still very high, one of the remnants of a difficult and reckless youth i still keep with me to this day. nothing happened in the tent that night, but that's just as well, because we were left with nothing to talk about, or feel guilty for.

the next time i saw you, you sat next to me and regaled me with stories you thought would impress me, and i'll admit, i was impressed. whenever younger men try to win me over with how much they know, i find it cute. cute in the way that a puppy ingratiates itself to its master, the complete opposite of 'manly.' the attentiveness you gave me that day had to count for something, and i'll admit, you made me smile the kind of smile that i reserve for when i'm trying to keep my feelings a secret, but fail miserably at doing. unfortunately, after a few rounds of cheap rum, you were drunk, beset by the asian flush and could not walk straight. at that point, i had had more liquor than you and i was lucid enough to notice that you had wrapped your arm around my waist. it was later on that i found out you had a girlfriend, and i think that that knowledge should have been divulged as early as the first conversation.

All I can say is, poor girl.

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

You don't live here. We only converse once a year, at max. We've been Internet friends since 2009 - I say Internet friends because we have never met in real life. At this day and age, these kinds of friendships are becoming more of the norm. You know my sister personally, and was her friend when we lived in the same country. However, I truly do not know why you decided to add me on FB in the first place. Maybe it's because you thought I was pretty, despite the obvious age gap between the two of us. You were only a toddler when Kurt Cobain passed away. I was older by a significant amount, just beginning to fall in love with The Beatles (a sign that my lifelong ambition to be cool and different started very early in life). You haven't been back to the country in six years. Let me tell you, much has happened in that span of time.

You leave little novellas on posts I make that seem to touch your soul. Other than that, you are a man who reserves his words. From what I gather, you are an artist yourself - you have a way with words and great taste, certainly. I also gather that you were born into money. Had you stayed in this country, you would be no different from other little lordlings your age - spending all their money on substances, material possessions and other useless things. Your taste in women would probably have been different, as well. Independent living abroad might have been the best thing to have ever happened to you, at the expense of being in limbo about your home, your roots, and your identity, you crazy, mixed-up, third culture kid, you.

You told me once during one of our conversations that you thought I was incredibly attractive. I was taken aback because you barely know me, aside from what I show of myself on the Internet, but flattered and grateful. Grateful because, despite the fact that I find it difficult to date men that don't ask me to change who I am, there is someone that accepts me fully. This willingness, this earnestness you laid before me was what woke me up to you, and now, I can barely think of anyone else.

Maybe my disbelief stems from low self-esteem. But mostly from the fact that you are spewing overtures from continents and time zones away. Is it the gift (or curse) of distance that awards you with such bravery? The unlikelihood of an awkward encounter between us at a bar on a Saturday night? Is it the thrill? The anticipation of unwrapping me like a gift, someday? The lack of intersecting social groups? You made empty plans to come home in December, as that will be the time you are going to be in Asia. You spend your holidays in Hong Kong. I say 'empty plans' because there are no dates set in stone. Truth is, I want you to be in the same city as me. We already know what will happen upon meeting, and I truly believe that the men who have the most pull on me have touched my soul in some way, and you certainly have touched mine. 

I want so badly to believe that your intentions for me are pure, because out of all the men I have come to know, you come the closest to the possibility of love. However, we do not live in the same country. That is reason enough for me not to believe you.

fuck this

i really, really REALLY want a job
and i've been trying really hard

i want security already.

new year, new set of hurdles to overcome

a guy friend and i are talking, and he showed me his wordpress from two years ago - naulul ako ng slight na dalawang taon na pala ang nakalipas mula 2013.

all i can say is that i'm really glad not to be the same person i was in 2013, that's for fucking sure. sure, i was experiencing a whole different set of problems back then that seemed insurmountable at the time, but don't all problems seem that way when we go through them?

i realize that the last time i updated this blog was during the two worst months of 2014. looking back, i can scarcely believe i made it through september and october (and november, come to think of it) alive. relief only came in december, where some really rad things happened and restored my sanity and carried over into the new year. it's only now that i feel like things are crashing down.

and it's that crashing feeling that brings me back to what i said about problems feeling insurmountable just as we go through tthem. you just really have to wade through the muck of them, get through them as gracefully as you possibly can.

also, i am leaving for malaysian borneo in 8 days (unless cebu pacific decides to pull a fast one and cancel our flight on the eve of the impending papal visit, where a no-fly mandate will be in place on the day after and the day before we fly back in). thing is, i no longer feel the same way about the man that i'm exploring this new country with. i stopped feeling a certain way for him and only really talk to him now out of necessity, because it's going to be lame if i go traveling with someone i dislike.

i discovered allen stone this morning, and this song has been on rotation the entire day. i think the song is trying to tell me something.

guess i'd better get some sleep, i've kind of been running myself ragged the entire day worrying about things that are beyond my control.

I took a plane over the stars,
It didn't get me very far,
'Cause all my problems, they follow me,
I flew to the moon, but it wasn't far enough away from you,
'Cause all our problems, they follow me, yeah, hey, yeah,

And every night, I close my eyes,
And all my troubles fade,
and every morning when I rise,
I'm just sleeping in this bed I made.