Re-mastering Heartache.

Moving on has always been a not-an-overnighter-phase kind of a thing.

I remembered that I hated older people who say "You're still young, we can't explain this fully now but we bet you'll be understanding this as soon as you grow up." Now I'm asking myself, when is that going to happen? "Growing up" has been painfully gradual, and gradually painful all at the same time.

Emotions have always been the weakest point of anybody who has a heart. Humans, according to extraterrestrials on movies, are weak because of it. It has never been featured as anyone's strength, but I seriously think it's both. Love is one hell of a tree trunk with a LOT of branches. Trust, passion, understanding, patience and anything virtuous you could think about. Until, we drown on it, and cross the boundary drawn as a very thin line to patheticville leading to psycholand. Getting back to normaltown isn't as easy as we imagine it to be. But at least, we know, somehow, we could get back to being normal.

It is a vicious cycle as we grow up. It just takes some pondering and waking up, in order for us to notice that the mistakes we make are patterned, if not, made up (that's if, you have some serious issues. Glad that we have doctors for it these days). Or we could pretend that we do not magnify little things because everybody nowadays has trust issues.

Getting hurt by it, is almost the same as going to a battlefield. We dodge bullets, if not, bombs. Some people give up, trying to settle because of the scare, or not taking the risk for safety reasons, some people fight until they got blown up, and some people go home, looking as new as how they came at first, hiding the scars, getting ready for the next battle. I say those are really brave people, if not, really dumb.

So during our rest days from codependency, do we really emphasize the fact that there are a lot of fishes in the sea? Because technically, lets say if we are really fishing, do we become idealistic about the fish we are anticipating to grab our bait? or should I say, we just, you know, settle for a big trout? (If you weren't expecting a trout as I may say). Because in the seas, we strongly feel giddy about getting a fish we actually never expect. In real life, we reject the fish. The fish that we want could be a liar, an asshole, and insensitively inconsiderate. But why do we subconsciously want that? Hence paragraph 4.

I will be getting a year older 4 days from now. I can't say I have grown up. I am still sitting on a plastic horse, going up and down, as mundane as it could get. That I may look like I do not care, but it still gets me. Hurting, I mean, but not on an emo basis. Just hurting. Like what you feel when you have a 3-day gash, plastered. May not hurt but you don't want to have it touched. I am fine though, thanks, in case you're asking. I know, that some are not.

Getting older does not mean you'll get numb. It just means you will know how to ease the pain.

Sucks.

Oh and P.S., it doesn't matter who did what, and who did who, the hurter and the hurtee actually feel pain even if they are not on the same level. Dwelling like a victim is actually less painful than bearing the guilt of the hurtee. It just takes YOU not to be one.

And P.S.S., I just made myself as an example. Generally, I am happy and contented. It just so happened that there are a lot of people experiencing the complexities of life nowadays. I give my cutout wishing star to you.

December Blues

Its the month where I used to see Mama, cleaning up the christmas tree so we could have it standing at the corner near the TV set. Its the month where I used to hear my Papa pressure my mom on buying gifts for their inaanaks and for us. Its the month where I used to hear questions from my ex-soon-to-be-life-partner what I wanted for my birthday. Its the month where I used to hear my friend plan a celebration for it. Videoke rentals, alcohol or food. Its the month where I hear christmas songs a lot and sing along with it.

I used to love the rush, the weather and the people who give their best effort to keep the spirit alive.

So I had this question, what happened to christmas? Or what happened to December? Because I know what happened to the people around me.

I dont wanna be a total crybaby about it, because I have really great friends and I have the sometime-sane partner, dont get me wrong my December will still be awesome. Im just not used to the fact of not having the same previous Decembers. I miss them, yeah.

But the most imprortant part about is, appreciating the real reason behind the season. OMG ARE YOU TOTALLY THINKING THAT I AM GOING TO SAY JESUS? No no, although it's by default that he is the reason this season exists. Its his birthday too you know. I am talking about the people who loved us for the whole year, despite of the lapses, the mistakes, and our other evil personality/ies. The people who stood by us, making us see ourselves whole this month. Unscathed, if not, unbroken.

Or maybe im just really getting old. That I already forgot the feeling of having the element of surprise. The first-time jitters. I overanalyze the taste of puto-bumbongs or bibingkas. I overthink of what gift to give. What clothes to wear. And the lingering WTF about the weirdest weather ever.

But I cant deny that, yeah, im having a different christmas this year. The kind where I will be battling myself if I should even greet them merrily.

Well I guess santa could skip giving me a gift this year. Im not in the mood to be nice. :)

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The Devastation.

I actually wondered when it's gonna stop. I mean, every time I go home, every time I had fun, it seemed like an addiction of running back towards the thought of you.

Every single time that I think of you, I think of all the memories we had together. I can still hear you laugh, the feel of your touch, the way you smell, and the sight of you whenever I wake up. But now I also think of how we hurt each other, of how we used to feel like a victim. I have thought of how I managed to survive myself so I could fit in your world. On how I tried accepting who I was. On how I tried to be accepted by everyone.

But that was years ago. 6 years ago. I knew myself a li'l. Because all the while, I thought you were just behind me, supporting my baby steps. Funnily, you weren't.

I had opened my heart and my soul. Communication is the key, so I've said. You've never listened. You never cared.

Now here you are, parading like we never existed. Like we never knew each other. That I just have to keep my pride and convince myself that I'm tired of chasing you and making you understand that hey, we have to be okay.

But now I'm not sure. Because I'm only concerned of the time that you might need me, and I'm not there anymore to care.

Yesterday was the day we give each other letters, or texts. Or a li'l something that would make each other smile. But from now on, today is the day when I ended my devastation.

Sorry. I have to get over you.


P.S.

You know I'm happy to be with someone. I could be happy for you too. But you never gave me the chance to feel that for you.

End the lying. It became your last stick of cigarette that never burnt out.

Isa.

Hindi ko alam kung ang alinsangan ng gabi ang dahilan kung bakit hindi pa rin ako makatulog. Binigyan na nga ako ng duktor ng gamot na pwedeng makapagpakalma sakin pero walang talab. Hanggang sa dumating ako sa sukdulang dapat pala ako matuwa kahit paano dahil ginusto ko to lahat.

Nung unang rinig ko na may sakit ako sa puso na dahilan ng pagkamatay ng tatay ko, nalungkot ako. Parang ang aga yata. Iniisip ko, "ah, wag seryosohin kasi may panahon pa."

Hanggang sa naalala ko ang lahat ng mga taong dapat sumasalo sakin sa ganitong panahon. Hindi ko maintindihan kung bakit pakiramdam ko pa rin, wala na talagang makakapagpabago sa kung ano ang matagal ng tumatakbo sa isip ko.

That whenever you experience joy, or satisfaction, that is just temporary. Dahil sa ilang minutong salita, lalabas ang tunay na anyo ng daan kung saan ka tumatakbo.

Naalala ko si Nino. Tatlo kaming sabay-sabay lumaki. Si Clark, si Nino, at ako. Nung nagkahiwahiwalay kami nung mga 14 ako, nabalitaan ko na lang after 6 years na namatay sha sa sakit sa puso.

Si Archie at Jeje. Ang mga "backer" ko na mahilig mang-harang para lang makipagkuwentuhan. Nasunog sa Ozone nung gabing inaaya nila ako pero hindi ako sumama. Dahil sinumbong ako ng Ninang ko na tumatakas para i-celebrate yung birthday nila.

Si Clark, binaril ng hindi kilalang lalaki, dahil yata sa babaeng may gusto sa kanya pero tinanggihan nya. Nagkataong may kuneksyon ata yung babae sa malaking isda.

Si Wine. Mula pagkabata, magkaibigan na kami. Hanggang sa nagkaroon ng away na lumaki na lang, dahilan kung bakit hindi na kami nag-usap ng anim na taon. Kung kelan nalimutan na ang galit, at pinaghandaan ang muling pagkikita, hindi ko naman inakalang magkikita kami sa ospital kung saan anim na tubo ang nakakabit sa kanya. Na pinilit nyang iabot ang kamay nya sakin at sabihing "I Miss You." Na nasayang ang anim na taon kung saan pwede pang nabawasan ang dahilan kung bakit sha nagkakanser. Stress, o kung anu ano pa. Pero walang bisyo yon.

Doon na ata ako sumuko. Yun na yata ang huling iyak ko na pakiramdam ko, inggit. Dahil sa ilang beses kong sinubukang mauna, hindi ko yata kayang ako ang gagawa ng paraan. Hanggang sa sinabi ng duktor sakin. Na masyado pa akong bata para magkasakit ngayon. Na hindi ko alam kung ano ang dapat kong maramdaman.

Ang galing ng tao. Marami sa atin ang nagnanais maging imortal. Naalala ko lang ang mga kwentong hinahanap nila yung panghabambuhay na kabataan. O magpapakagat sa bampira para mabuhay habangbuhay. How can anyone love life? How can anyone try to look for love if it's the main reason why it breaks our hearts? How can anyone live trying to find the reason, arguing about religion, standing tall for principles, fighting for rights, if most of our lives, we tend to have our hearts broken for a million times, and yet pretend to be stronger.

How can anyone believe that we are made for one person? If that person does not stand the chance to love forever? If love is a decision, then what about pain?

Dahil sabihin ko mang marami pa akong panahon, paano pag sinayang lang ng iba? Paano kung gustuhin kong sulit ang ikli ng mga araw, paano kung walang kuwenta sa kanila?

Hindi ko talaga mundo to e. Pasensya na. Pero sa mga susunod ko pang araw, kaya ko pang magpanggap na masaya.

All I Ever Wanted...

... is someone that will never lose a second, to just make a promise that I could be the only one. Someone who couldn't live without me. No buts. No doubts.

I Disappear.

I didnt have the typical weekend everybody is ideally having. I definitely conclude that once you turn old, everything is set in place. Except having the choice to unwind, or just stare at the ceiling waiting for your friends to send you a text, or a facebook notification perhaps.

Sometimes everything becomes too hard to bear. It even goes beyond the unexpected. Like friends being too over-familiar, getting too tired of the same drama when you were a decade younger. Or "loving" the same person despite of dealbreakers you just try to ignore, or explain rationally to yourself.

While doing the laundry at around 9pm, my sister left the dvd on, watching David Copperfield's 15 years of Magic. I just stared at the TV seeing him disappear, go through walls, lose the statue of liberty and produce snow out of his bare hands. I wondered, life must be too easy for him.

I would try to lose the promises intended to be broken. The lies everybody kept on doing. The expectations everyone sets. I will produce happy pills with my bare hands to change my mood. For my own mind to just stop thinking. For my heart to just stop hurting. For every organ that churns everytime my whole body freezes up when I got no one to talk about those fucked up broken promises and truth that I should just accept without feeling anything. I would go through walls and disappear, to just avoid the people who never tried understanding what I really want. What I really need. Because everybody thinks they know better. I cant blame them because we teach people how to treat us. I just never expected I taught almost everyone be toxic and just be plain inconsiderate about what others might feel.

I am the class clown. I am the funny guy. I am the crazy one. That's why I think that I unintentionally made everyone think that I don't need a tap on my back. Or just a plain listening skill. No, everyone thinks its just shit.

I try to be happy. I even tried those new age beliefs about positivity and visualization. Was I not trying hard enough?

I have been building my dreams with cards. Can everyone please hold their fucking breath for a minute and let me stare at it after putting the last card? Or better yet, get out of my fucking life. Go find somebody else's life to ruin.

Or just enjoy what I've built. And appreciate that it's not just crap, it's my work. Have you ever thought I might've building it my whole life?