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.

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.

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?

An abrupt end

Dear A,
No amount of refresh can show your name. I can't remember how many times I've tried to convince myself, "Don't push it. Let it breathe." I read in an article once, it's not true that you shouldn't go to sleep without patching things up. Some things take overnight to heal; but I can't convince myself to subscribe to the thought. My body aches on these unsettling grounds. I can't go to sleep when things aren't okay. How could you?
Sometimes I talk to myself to answer the question. Maybe you cried yourself to sleep. It's the only possible way.
But I know you're not the crying kind. Sometimes I wonder, have you cried because of me? I have this slightest hint of memory of you crying because of me... but I look at it with the clarity of the future and is it really because of me? Did you cry because you were hurting? Did you cry because you were afraid? Did you cry because you didn't like what's happening?
My mom said, I shouldn't cry so much, that only the weak cry. Tears are signs of weakness. Pain is not equivalent to tears. Losses are not equivalent to tears. Those who are strong are able to hold back the tears and keep their head high. I believe strength is in honesty, my mom believes strength is in not allowing yourself to be broken.
Have you always been strong? Is that why I can't remember you cry? I have so many questions in my head, so many I could make a list. I feel like whipping out a paper so I can have a script. When I meet you for the first time again, I can take it out. All I have to do is read my questions so I won't forget to ask. Our days are numbered. We should make each count.
Some people I got to talk to told me, I

Above is a drafted letter-blog that remained unfinished. Funny how confused and lost I was then. That's all the hurt talking--blabbering even. Months after, here I stand now, still confused over a few things, but with a clear conscience.

Every relationship has a way of ending--as much as it has its own amusing way of beginning in the first place. We can never rule out that possibility of losing somebody, or even just the spark. The best we can do is immerse ourselves in the heat while the fire dances with our hearts.

All we have is the now. What we make of it, makes us.

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.

This is why we broke up 1

Wolves howled from under my shirt
a declaration of the phases of your moon
I found myself lost between my skirt
awaiting a reckless slow burning doom.

I have ten other reasons written on my journal, but today, that shall do. I can't let you burn me out. You wanted, too much.

"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.