Tumbler

Back in college, I broke up with someone because she demeaned Starbucks. Well, not directly, but rather, Starbucks' price marks. She hated the fact that I go to Starbucks at least twice a day (it was planner season); thus suffer the bad effects of too much caffeine like a palpitating heart, difficulty in sleeping (to no sleep at all), and frequent heart burns.

All those reasons fuelled just how much she hated the part where a visit at Starbucks is P200, at minimum. In hindsight, I didn’t realize that she was coming from that place where she was a college student but working as the breadwinner of her family. I was too fucked over the idea that she (jokingly?) required sex at least three times a day—which I said I couldn’t.

So I broke up with her because, judge me all you want, but to me it was and still is as sound as the break of dawn… I said, Starbucks meant more to me. I said something to the flavour of, I’ve been with Starbucks for years and it has comforted me through countless number of bad days—though at an expense—but still, there for me; while she, was a newcomer. That considering, Starbucks is a more valued friendship-relationship that if I were going to choose, since she was completely making me quit the coffee habit, if I were going to choose, I’d choose Starbucks because it is a more loyal friend. (Later on, the girl did end up ‘cheating’ with someone else, thus the soundness of me choosing Starbucks over her, brava.)

I don’t remember how she took it, badly I would assume. I don’t even know who else knew about it, it was, I’d love to think, a private breakup; but if people knew about it, I know judgments were passed. Despite so, I still think choosing Starbucks was the good choice (if it isn’t the right one), because years over and Starbucks is still there—a home for P200 at minimum.

Today, I am mad over my head because the beautiful tea tumbler that I bought for myself as a birthday gift to me (yes, I gift myself with mundane things), was lost last night. That tumbler was the most beautiful thing because it had star-like cut holes as an orifice and it was a clear glass with multitudes of greens as leaves for design. It was perfect because during my last birthday, I took steps to be Wiccan and more in-touch with my earthy zone. That was my tea tumbler, because I drink from tea leaves (sans tea bags) and the star-cut lid was the perfect filter. It was perfect because I bought that to console myself of the bomb that exploded from the core of our house. It was just a tumbler for the outside world, but motherfuck, it was my sanity set to plastic jug. (I found a photo online)

And it got lost. It got lost last night. Judge me all you want, but sometimes we rest ourselves to the most mundane objects (because people can’t be trusted really), so objects develop souls, and these souls attach themselves too tightly on our hands that when we lose grip, the hands just feel so weightless. I feel hollowed.

Reasons and Excuses

Between thought and action is reason. When we lose it, forget it, or worse completely neglect its value, we become animals imprisoned by our own self-serving missions rooted on an irrational culture set to stone by protruded impulse.

Few days ago I left my email open on Y's laptop. She accidentally opened it and saw an ex's name. This prompted her to read the exchange, or at least open what it started with. It was an email I sent with a poem in it. A poem I wrote in trance while my life is in transit, so to speak. The issue for Y was: why did I send the poem.

The answers to me were simple but the anger, frustration and distrust that clouded her mind were too thick, her grace was taken away. The little bit of it, if I may say.

I sent the poem because I wanted to send the message. Sometimes, when what you want to express is too personal, digging for words become tedious and even antiseptic. That's where resorting to pictures or symbols or prose or colors come in. I found my medium in poetry and decided to pounce on it. I wanted her to know, just know, or at least grant her a better chance of knowing what little I can deliver. I've been in the position of being left blind-sided and it was never fun and safe to sit with shadows. It shouldn't matter says Y. But I've no bad blood with A despite what happened so it mattered to me that I can do something like leave a trail to MY reason so she can someday, when she wants to, know the thought and understand the action. Y can't get that. She didn't have any reasons to be graceful.

So she did something, an uproar that I can't tolerate blindly, and that uprooted some of the things we nurtured the past few months. I felt/feel an anger and disgrace, shame and sheer disappointment over the person she decided to become. Denial, repulsion, hatred set in and I struggle to meet with acceptance and heart.

There is the monster that slept. There is her monster.

But the villain in me taps my shoulder, whispers understanding and empathy. And maybe there is reason why I'm willing to swallow. The action may not be thought through but the reason is shining over an airless box. For all its worth, Y exploded right before my eyes. Graceful or not, I'm at a point where I'd prefer that than someone who will speak of me heartlessly then pretend to be the soul to which my weakness can recline with.

So the poem was set free, free enough to be whatever it wishes to be. I'm happy with the butter that was churned, there could be better but that better world is no longer for the same spirit that ignited the first lines of my poem. The changes are still happening, forming worlds cornered by numbered streets, and these changes are mine, mine alone. Mine to decide with whom I would share it. Mine to build, hide, protect and cover with sealed lips, cryptic words and beating pauses. That although A didn't understand what I was saying, the message was sent. I blame my failed style in depicting my feelings with words, sure, but I also blame "the reason" why she was unable to capture the song between the lines. The reason is change. 

Change has taken over everything.

Desert Storm

My mom mouthed "thank you" as I handed her over some money. I'm not made for all this maturity-responsibility shit because I've always seen myself growing up, hippie style. Before I butchered my hair as I have had my heart gang-raped, I had long semi-virgin (allow me) hair, down to my waist, with curls (and horrid tangles) casting pretty shadows on pretty shadows. I've always been the type who would wear a flower crown--still am, always will be.

Earlier today I walked from our office to this chipipay salon nearby for an out-of-nowhere mani-pedi. It was high noon. I loved the walk.

The warmth of the sun touching my skin felt like much-awaited kisses from flaming lips (of tongues on fire). There's something outlandishly lovely about soaking up the sun. I would if I could be a solar battery, be a solar battery.

Last night I was feeling blue because I was worried for our employee. Given the circumstances, I feel more concerned about her losing her job. I'm still utterly saddened by it.

Last night I saw our four puppies crawl and try to stand on their paws. One of the four, the darkest bundle of dark coat, was able to stand upright. It was magical, to see such little creature find his first drop of strength to carry himself. He also tried to shit upright that very night, although that second feat was a bit of a failure because his shit was probably too hot to handle.

Life is shit. I feel shit. But it's my shoot tomorrow so I might as well suck it up because if I don't, how the fuck will things get better. I mean, even if I can't imagine any good thing to milk just to make me feel a hint better, I am still enforcing a leave of absolution. I want to get to that point where the heaviest of sins would be absolved in my mind, so the rest of me will follow. I hate to admit, really, but I can't afford to flail.

There are things that are best left unsaid. Then things best left mouthed and read.

Conventions and confectioners

My world spun or spiraled, whichever available, yesterday. The day started with a confused bang, then there was coffee, large Fries and a tedious walk under the morning sun. These were then followed by a stolen rest, a stolen time, a stolen glance and a heart stolen by default. It was a conspiracy to deal with the turn of events, but it was also a magical spectacle to have seen it close with a reunion, a gathering if I may, of souls lost in misery and conjunctions, simultaneously.

I was with my tomboy friends last night. It was an impromptu tomboy convention, I can leisurely recall. It was a promise kept and a promise made. It was a promising acquaintance and a knot made to never ever falter against the changing names of gift cards in scrapbooks, well-hidden and structured by dreams.

People may find it hard to believe, but I join the renegade feeling of "feeling friendless". I'm a very out there person, and friendship is something I am open to granting upon first second of intertwining souls; but at the end of the day, I have only a few number of people I can truly, whole-heartedly, confidently and without hesitation, call as my friends. I like it that way.

So last night I was with my friends, two of which were friends since the beginning of time, one of which was a friend made when the beginning of the now spun close. Before that, however, I was with a dear friend who unknowingly achieves the personification of my unseen moonrise. Admittedly, she is unprecedented. I can't put my finger on how she acts towards me, neither can I put my finger on who she is; but I find myself in a comforting tunnel, a faltering abyss of mixed silence and whispers, I don't need to know.

Late in the night, as my unforgiving wooziness got the best of me (thank you BioFlu for allowing me to wake up the next day a bit saner than expected), I concluded that break-ups aren't the reason why relationships end. Relationships end because they stop happening. Relationships stop happening because people cease trying. Sometimes, the causes would be circumstantial, sometimes emotional. Sometimes, the causes would be rational (if you're lucky), but often, the causes would be unspeakable (quite literally). So amidst my running (pun) nose, I decided not to believe in break-ups, as heavily as I decided not to believe in a Catholic God (until they recognize homosexuality as an equal act of love, they can keep their crosses to themselves).

I tried breaking up with her, again, and she won't let me. I don't understand how far she's willing to go every time I am willing to go--so illegal things happened, and once again we're back on square one.

I'd rather believe in fairies. I do.

5 LDR lessons

"The room suddenly spinning, she walks up at you and asks how you are. So you can smell her perfume, you see her lying naked in her arms."

A few days ago, I have been invited to join this exclusive contest that tackles the sad reality of some, missing out due to distance. I would be blogging about it on my "professional" blog than here, if it wouldn't hurt anyone to have me talk about missing out on life due to distance. I was in a long distance relationship for almost four years. Those four years were hard--but also very easy, come to think of it. Days passed faster, months meant nothing, each minute only mattered when our timelines met. Those four years were valuable, though agreed, there's a unique blend of sadness that flows through the veins of a long distance relationship. There's the anxiety of not knowing, of patiently waiting and of losing one another through the inevitable way life can take away things. Don't get me wrong, I still think long distance relationship's possible, I knew we would've made it if we didn't lose a lot along the way, but it's hard. It's hard to miss out.

So let me give a few thoughts on how to make long distance relationship work. Warning, this is not a success story. This is coming from someone, who learned.

1. Keep lines open.
The harder time is against you, the more those lines should be open. We're lucky we have technology. Imagine how difficult it was ages back when people can only rely on telegrams and snail mail to connect with a loved one living afar. Take advantage of the comforts made available by this modern world. You don't have to talk 24/7, please get some sleep and give each other "psychological space", but bridge that atmosphere with quality conversations so the "geographic space" between you will not grow into an abyss. It's easy to lose things in translation, so be open. Be interested, genuinely. Every little thing you share as a couple would be foundation to what you can share when finally, you beat that distance down to the ground.

2. Celebrate occasions.
I know this may sound funny because you're apart, but the times either of you stayed up late just to greet the other a Happy Valentine counts. See the blessing being apart grants. At least you get extended holidays (her and your timeline means at least 48 hours of Christmas). Greet her. The holidays are painful when you can't spend them with your special someone, with every couple rubbing their togetherness on you even! So greet her. For the mushiness, for the romantic notions and for the comfort it would bring. Never forget the occasions. The things that you can afford to not miss out, take them. They matter.

3. Don't live vicariously through each other. Be your own person.
Make use of the time you don't get to spend together as a time you can dedicate to your own becoming. It's so easy to be so attached to technology, but don't smother each other with attention at the expense of your personal growth. Consider the long distance period as gestation time. It's time for you to grow and nurture that life you will someday share with each other. If you trust in the strength of your relationship, you should trust that living a life individually is not tantamount to foregoing life in a relationship. Growth and space, these are things that long distance couples can very much enjoy while the situation is still less than ideal. Become, then share. It will help each of you gain the respect of the other in the long run.

4. Be optimistic.
We girls are great in being anxious. We girls are amazing at over-analyzing things and even self-deprecation, don't you think? Relax. See the good things in every situation, and people, especially your partner. Dark thoughts are strong and can eat up every hint of light in a situation, it's your duty to keep at least a flicker alive. Don't be too afraid and never forget what lit that little flicker up in the first place. When you always keep in mind what made you risk it all and be in a long distance relationship in the first place, you're bound to surpass every dark corner.

5. Keep your promises.
Trust is the number one thing that makes a long distance relationship capable. Keep your promises, even the little ones, because the little shards of broken promises you collect, they pierce deeply.

So anyway, today wasn't supposed to be the launch of my I Love 5 section but heck. Songs inspire.

Today I felt a good kind of missing, something people who are or have been in a long distance relationship must be familiar with, I assume. It's the type of missing you can feel warm and fuzzy and thankful for. It's the type of missing that serves as a reminder, refresher and even as a re ignition of every promise and every plan you made with your partner, even when she's far.

"You just have to see her, you just have to see her, you just have to see her, you know that she'll break you in two."

Confession, I guess I love ghosts, and You?

When everything is about me.

Today I will make you shift your head to the right, direction.

I guess February is about winning and losing. About the handsome price we pay when we want something, and then some more. Of course life is about some things, some ones, and maybe a lot of some where's if we grant it some of our time. Perhaps February is about the ransom we're forced to relinquish, like a dowry or someone else's money.

For all its worth, February was cold and swiftly turned into a promise of hope, a walking muscle shirt, an idea hiding under moving paper cups, a confirmation of some sort, and then some other worlds too unreal to explain.

"My feelings are my reality"

"But that's not always correct".

"Doesn't change the fact that I feel them."

Last second randomness:
I like being in the middle to meddle and wiggle my silly ass off. What do YOU like?

Jealousy is a lesser evil.

"Are you the jealous type?"

"No."

I'm not a very jealous person. I feel, like I have exhausted majority of my jealous genes when I was a kid--over the most shallow things, like a classmate with a new doll or the one with the highest score in class. But I'm a very demanding person. My pride, though I know when to put it to rest, is very aggressive and fierce. I demand attention, affection, dedication and exclusivity. I don't share--not dessert, not my girl.

So when jealousy flickers in the background, it usually touches my billowing skirts. Then there's fire. An insulting burn that will not go away. I may even dare say, I have been insulted well enough to light up for two people.

So earlier this morning I found out that the Y continued talking/texting/flirting/tweeting the girl she kissed while we were "dating" (in her defense she said she was so drunk and so high--and yes, she lived in a world where drugs was apparently a valid excuse, which of course I worked iron hand on to correct, duh--the other defense was "we're not formally together" so she didn't think it was an issue, but if this was presented in court, then 'your honor, may I say, that the kiss happened the very night she had my initials tattooed on her skin, so if we would validate the "we're not formally together" excuse, your honor, may I request that whatever weight or meaning and value that tattoo earned, be retracted. Thank you.')

I got infuriated. The issue with that girl, who has no playlist, library or even word bank to be proud of, is older than our relationship, was rectified from the very beginning--or so I thought. So I am insulted, disgusted, not jealous cause clearly, can I please be jealous over someone more deserving of my anguish? I'm angered and distrustful.

So this is my Valentine's letter for Y. More than anything, I truly value, my peace of mind.

Dear women, I know that you're worth all the confusion, but recognize, I'm worth the security.

It's not that we're broken up but we're broken. It's not like we live together but we always separate. It's not like we're flailing but it's downhill. It's not like we're hopeless but we fail often. I want someone who wants me so much that's all there is. I don't want to settle for less so let's not be friends, not exes, not estranged, not whatever. I just want us to be good people towards each other. I can't be in this relationship right now, right.now. I want a better love where I can always just be the better person. I'm not removing myself from the picture because I think I'm a problem or because there's a problem. I'm calling it quits because I'm spent. Let's be lovers or friends or names on each other's list. I don't mind. I just want to focus what's left of my self respect to being a good person for me, you, and the people I hate. I always think it's better to kill with kindness. I'm done. You don't have to answer. I didn't ask for anything, which is a mistake I tag myself with. I'm recognizing how the mistakes we've been doing all lead to this close. I hate you. I hate Florence. I hate hate. I'm sorry it's this big. It grew and grew and I didn't ask for you to kill it when I noticed how you weren't being sensitive-anything to save us from this release. I'm sorry for that. On Friday, I want us to meet with clean plates if you still want to meet. I just want to forget, take what I can keep and start anew. I just want to move on from this incredulous turn away. Thank you for writing my name as 8th. I like that infinite number. Symbolically, it's very apt even. Two loops, one sacred point.

Are you the jealous type?

I love laughing.

Good morning!!!!!!!!

Yes, you can read that as outrageously perked up as it seems to be. I am painfully a morning, afternoon, evening, midnight person--although when it comes to the witching hours of 1 to 3PM, I have to admit to some fatal drowsiness.

The other day I posted "Sleep when you're dead" because I was sleepy as fuck, the clearest way of putting things down. Today, oh, on this beautiful Tuesday morning, I rise and proclaim that fuck yeah, I'm still sleepy!

But boy... was Monday beautiful.

Most people hate Mondays for the painful beginning it represents: to some, slavery, to some, a murderous commute.

But boy... was Monday exactly what I had hoped it to be

I didn't set myself up for any great expectation but pleasures aside, I was quite a satisfied woman. Don't you just love it when the Universe listens? The Universe is on my side, I tell you, on.my.side.

I still bark like a greyhound (do they bark? I imagine them as more of the howling-kind). I feel like I'm going to break my eardrums any minute now, but I can't help but feel okay despite not being okay. I wish my cough sets me down to peace soon, I would really love to cease being a walking human virus; but I will try not to wish for so many things right now--especially after having one superficial wish granted with the most eloquent execution that I laughed so hard, it wasn't funny anymore... it was bliss.

I love happy bubbles. Well... not as much as I realized I love invisible fire!

This is why we broke up 2

Today is supposedly the end of the world. If by any chance, it would count for anything, I would like to write on this page, perhaps one last time, should the said Mayan prediction come true.

our soiled sheets carry
the scent of your legs
and my mind,
oh, how it wandered aimlessly

other than silence
we held on a beating
that troubled us,
over the moon and arched backs.

ostensive fingers delight
my confused pharynx
to turn purple butterflies
onyx and dry

I made a list you might feverishly fail to nullify. I used your words to build this towering lie.

"Life is happening."

We all have our shares of once in a lifetime experiences. Yesterday, was one. It was 12.12.12 (December 12, 2012)--I refer to it as destiny day. I made a huge deal out of it. Awesome things happened.

The funny thing about life is, it has its way of taking things back at our most inconvenient time.

1. Stability - you know that feeling when you just got yourself back to your feet and you can finally walk a straight line without wobbling? Have yourself suddenly shoved out of control in between steps. That happened yesterday when A's Christmas gifts arrived. I knew she sent me gifts, and she told me what she sent, but I was floored over how my whole being reacted to receiving the items. The gesture felt more real than ever. I felt her through the bubble wrap. I imagined her carefully securing everything. I imagined her happy to send me hope. I imagined her hurting she couldn't send herself instead. Stability... it's not a very constant thing. We're all built to be tipped off balance even with the slightest breeze so I'm not surprised it was taken away from me. I should have seen it coming. I could go on all day taking the blame.

2. Trust - people we can trust, or at least feel that we can trust, are blessings to me. I value them more than anything because I know how rare it is to feel a certain level of connection with someone--the type that can knock on my closed hatchet of self. Today, trust was taken away from me in the absence of acceptance. I feel judged and hurt. Y laid down a few things she didn't like about our relationship as if it were an enumeration exam. There were even a few more that she refuses to tell me because she hopes I will figure those few things on my own--by being a little bit more sensitive --pt being, I'm insensitive apparently. I've never felt more unwanted in my life. I'm thinking... if you don't want me, why not go? And no, it doesn't feel good to hear an answer that goes "Exactly, I'm staying. Does that not count for anything?" Staying because it's what you want to do and staying because you can tolerate are two sides of the same coin.

3. Respect - it's sad to admit that I feel like I have lost the respect I have for some of the most important people in my life.. likewise, I fear and feel that I had lost their respect for me as well. Respect is something earned and it will always be tragic to lose it. Sad because it's not even due to broken bones and wounded hearts. I've lost the respect for and of the most important people in my life because life is happening and there are mistakes that are too huge of a deal to overlook--and overcome.

Life has its way of reclaiming what it has generously provided. The best thing we can do, as always, is to live in each moment.

One very smart person (S, you) once told me that life is happening. As much as it is simply stating the obvious, I must say, I have never concurred as hard.