erroreena

[erroreena]

On Leave

Aspirations are on leave. The soul is on leave. The writer is on leave. 

I have long forgotten how it feels to be enthusiastic about the biggest playwriting event in the country. It even seemed like the only thing that an aspiring playwright like me is looking forward to. My batchmates are nowhere to be found. Some have pursued another art form --  and that’s okay. 

The high from writing rush is gone. I used to write 3 or four plays in a span of two months. In 2020, the dream was so alive. 

“Revive the fire” -- that was the season’s theme during our reign, and I can’t seem to do it to myself. How can you even resuscitate a dream that has gone dismal. I refuse to convince myself that I am trying to achieve so much progress in various fields at the same time. It’s such a shame that I can’t even pinpoint my ONE THING now that I’ve finished reading the book. 

There is always no follow through. No wonder why I would always go back to square one. It’s really exhausting. My creative muscles aren’t trained enough to be as flexible as possible. I got stuck with my old tricks. I’m not stretching myself enough to learn new things. I guess I’ve lost that sense of wonder.

Fateful surprises

Had I not joined the session yesterday, I would’ve not heard the whisper of hope. I know that I’m not part of new breed of playwrights anymore. For I am old, and I am nearing 30s. When you’re 30, you are old. Perhaps, I would make a play of someone who is afraid of hitting 30. Guess who got off tangent here... One of my mentors in theater has given me an advice that I should push for my script again. I know that my script is still raw, and only if I have sought the critique of the writer’s bloc, I might have a fighting chance. 

Attending a session of WB gave me bouts of anxiety. I guess it’s not just for me. I just don’t find it healthy for me. 

When I think of playwriting, I think of N. 

Is it still worth the shot? Should I revisit my script? 

Have I gained enough maturity to write a stronger material? Is it not out of the vacuum anymore?

[erroreena]

Solar eclipse

Iwinawagayway ni Araw ang kaniyang mga bisig habang inaabangan ang oras ng kaniyang tuluyang pagbangon. Nagliligpit naman ng gamit si Buwan bilang patapos na ang kaniyang oras. 

Sa isang syudad na puno ng building, may isang kwadradong bintana roon kung saan masisilip natin ang isang Lalaki na halos mabura na ang kaniyang mata dahil sa paulit-ulit na pagkusot nito. Nagtimpla siya ng isang tasang kape at sinadyang patunugin ang kutsarita nang magising siya sa ingay nito. Sumilip siya sa bintana. At sa segundong iyon, hindi pa dapat lalabas si Araw, sapagkat naghahanda pa lang siya kagaya ni Lalaki. Nagkatinginan sila. 

Bilang bago si Araw sa responsibilidad nang tagapagsabi na umaga na, nakaramdam siya ng matinding init sa kaniyang loob.

“Tama ba ‘tong nakikita ko? Isang lalaki na sumulyap sa akin?! Sandali! Hindi pa ako handa... Magtatago muna ba ‘ko?”, hirit ni Araw.

Nag-ring ang alarm clock ni Lalaki at pinihit niya ‘to nang manahimik. Sa pangatlong pagkakataon, naunahan niya ‘to. Hirap siyang makatulog kahit na pagod na pagod sa trabaho. Sa buong linggo ng pagtatrabaho, tila hindi dinadapuan ng konsepto ng pahinga ang kaniyang katawan. 

Nagmadali si Araw na lumabas at iangat ang sarili nang makita siya ni Lalaki. Napansin niya ang pagyuko ni Lalaki habang nakatingin sa cellphone. Sinubukan niyang pakinggang ang sinasabi nito. 

“Oh, good morning! How are you?” pabulong na sabi ni Lalaki.

Lalong sumiklab ang bawat bisig ni Araw. Nais na lang niyang yapusin nang mahigpit si Lalaki. 

“Oo, masaya ako. Masaya ako na nagkita tayo sa unang paglabas ko. Masaya ako na kinakausap mo ako. Ikaw, kumusta ka?”

Ibinulsa ni Lalaki ang cellphone at hinila ang kurtina. 

“Hoy! Hindi mo pa ako sinasagot!”, pagmamaktol ni Araw. 

Sinundan ni Araw ng tingin si Lalaki, pero ni hindi niya magawang tingalain si Araw. Dumukot ito ng shades mula sakaniyang bulsa at agad na sinuot. 

Habang inaabangan si Lalaki, sari-sari ang pamumuri ang naririnig ni Araw mula sa mga nilalang sa ibaba. 

“Ang ganda naman ng umagang ito!” Di mabilang na “Good morning” din ang naririnig niya sa kung sinu-sino pero iisa lang ang nais niya. 

Madalas makipag-away si Araw kay Buwan. Minana nila sa kanilang mga ninuno ang oras ng kanilang paglitaw sa mundo kaya ang kasunduang ito ay nakataga na rin sa bato.

“Pambihira ka naman, Araw. Oras ko na. Di ba’t night shift ako. Kaya mamaya ka na,” hinaing ni Buwan.

“Wala akong pakialam sa shift-shift na ‘yan! Kung gusto kong sumikat, sisikat pa rin ako.” sigaw ni Araw. 

Hindi nagsalita si Buwan habang nakikipagtitigan siya kay Araw. Unti-unting naramdaman ni Araw ang hiya. Naalala niya na ang mga tao ay kailangan din ng gabi. Walang lugar ang pagiging makasarili niya. 

Palagi na siyang hinihintay ni Araw. Imbis na siya ang hintayin, ibinibaba niya ang sarili niya, “Eh ano kung ako ang Araw? Kaya ko rin ang ginagawa ng mga nilalang na tulad nila. Naririnig ko pa nga ang biro na ‘willing to wait po!’ Aba’y siyempre, ako rin.”

Inaabangan niya ang pagdating ni Lalaki. Madalas daw itong nakatungo habang nagmamadaling makipagsiksikan sa eskinita at underpass papunta sa opisina. Marahil ay lugmok sa kalungkutan o pagod sa trabaho kaya hindi na siya makitaan ng anumang bahid ng sigla. Kaya buong-buo ang ngiti ni Araw para naman mahawa si Lalaki sa saya niya. Pero sa bawat linggo na lumalabas si Araw ay ni hindi man lang siya pinapansin si Lalaki. Titingala lamang siya kapag napapansin niya ang ambon, ang ulan --- tsaka niya ilalabas ang payong. 

“Magseselos ba ako sa ulan? Sa kaibigan kong maitim na ulap? Bakit hindi niya magawang iangat ang kaniyang ulo upang harapin ako? Maliwanag naman ako ah? Mas gusto ba niya ang dilim?”

Kaydami nang nagtangkang humalina kay Araw. May iba’t ibang harana para sa kaniya. Kakaibang pag-asa raw ang taglay niya sabi ng maraming mga nilalang sa lupa. Palagi na lang biyaya ang tingin sa kaniya. 

“Sana umaraw na para matuyo kaagad ‘tong labada ko”, ani ni Marites. 

“Di bale, bukas ay may bagong araw at makakabawi ako ulit,” sabi ni Ramon. 

“Hangga’t may araw ay may good vibes,” sambit ni Yasmin.  

Kung sinu-sino ang naririnig ni Araw ngunit ang tinig lamang ni Lalaki ang kaniyang hinahanap.

“Sige, kung hindi man magpakita ng anumang senyales ng pagdating, tatanggapin ko na lang.” nangingilid na ang luha ni Araw na agad din namang natutuloy.

“Aba! Anong iniiyak-iyak mo? Alam mo namang triple ang sakit sa iyo kapag iiyak ka. Agad na ngang natutuyo, naiipon pa lalo sa loob,” hirit ni Maitim na Ulap.

“Ginusto ko bang maging ganito? Isang sumpa ang maging Araw!” Tinalikuran ni Araw ang Maitim na Ulap. 

Tinulak ni Araw ang kaniyang kaibigan na si Maitim na Ulap. Nag-udyok ito nang isang katakot-takot na pag-ulan, malakas na pag-ihip ng hangin. 

Natulala ang Araw sa gulong ginawa niya. Agad niyang hinanap si Lalaki. May isang maliit na itim na payong kung saan nagsisiksikan ang dalawang tao. Nakilala niya si Lalaki kahit hindi niya makita ang mukha ito na natatakpan ng payong. Mahigpit ang pagkakahawak niya sa kamay ng isang tao -- tila binabalot ng pangakong hindi ito bibitawan gaano man kalakas ang ulan.  Pinanood niya ang pakikipagsapalaran ni Lalaki sa ulan at paglusong baha na dala ng Maitim na Ulap na binubuhos ang sama ng loob ng kaniyang kaibigang si Araw. 

Nanlamig si Araw at halos maghandusay sa lapag sa panghihina nito. Nang mapansin ng Maitim na Ulap ang pamumutla ng kaniyang kaibigan, inakay niya ito. 

Sabi nila, wala ka raw maikukubli sa araw pero nagawa pa rin ikubli ni Lalaki ang katotohanan sa ‘di malamang paraan. 

Dinamdam ni Araw ito sapagkat ang alam niya at kita niya ang lahat ng nangyayari sa mundo hanggang sa kasuluk-sulukan nito. Siya ang nagbibigay ng liwanag pero habang napupuno ng mga kongkretong matatayog na kahon sa syudad, may mga eksenang, hindi na niya nasasagap. Nahaharangan na ng semento ang kaniyang paningin.

Narinig ng Buwan ang kaguluhan. Nadatnan niyang nakahandusay na si Araw. Nahabag siya sa lagay nito. Hindi dapat malaman ng mga nilalang sa ibaba na nanghihina siya nang dahil sa isang Lalaking nakasilong sa maliit na payong. Anumang pagtatalo nila noon ay naintindihan na niya kung bakit nagpupumilit si Araw na akuin pati ang gabi. “Ang Araw na gusto akuin ang night shift,” buntong hininga ni Buwan. 

“Kailangan ka pa nila. Tumayo ka muna diyan,” engganyo ni Maitim na Ulap. Inabot niya ang kaniyang kamay at muling sumikat si Araw. 

Naghiyawan at nagpalakpakan ang mga tao. Naisalba ng Araw ang mga tao mula sa anumang peligro na dulot nang biglaang pagbuhos ng ulan. Halos lahat nang mga tao ay nakatingala sa langit, at nagsambit ng munting dasal. 

“Salamat naman sa Diyos at umaraw na ulit!” hiyaw ni Marites. 

Sa pagsikat ni Araw, tiniklop na ng lalaki ang payong. Nakatalikod ang kasama niya kaya hindi man lang mamkukhaan ni Araw ito. Kay liwanag niya ngunit hindi man lang niya maaninag ang mukha ng taong kasama ni Lalaki. Wala na sigurong mas bibigat sa kaniyang loob sa puntong iyon. Niyakap nang mahigpit ni Lalaki ang taong ‘yun. Nang iaangat na nito ang ulo niya, umasa si Araw na ito na ang pagkakataong magkatinginan na silang muli. 

“Magpapasalamat ka rin ba gaya nila Marites at kung sino pang nilalang na sabik na sabik sa aking pagdating?”

Sa huli, inangat lang pala niya ang ulo niya upang harapin ang taong iyon at halikan ang labi nito. 

Kasama ni Araw sina Maitim na Ulap at Buwan sa panonood ng eksenang ito. Hindi nila mawari kung paano matutulungan ang kaibigan.

Marahil ito na ang araw na dapat na siyang magpaalam. Handa na siyang pakawalan ang lalaking yun. 

Baka magpapaalam na lang daw siya, maghihintay na lang hanggang sa mag- alas singko. Ngunit muli siyang kumabig, hindi siya lulubog hangga’t hindi buo ang desisyon niya. 

Napansin ni Buwan na pilit na iniaabot ni Araw ang mga sinag nito kay Lalaki, wari’y nagmamakaawang abutin ito sa una at huling pagkakataon. Ngunit di na matiis ni Buwan na makita ang kaniyang kaibigan na muling magpakababa para sa Lalaking ito kaya minabuti niyang pagtakpan ang kahibangang ito. 

“Magpahinga ka muna, ako na lang ngayon. Akin na ‘yan.”

“Ang alin?” pagtataka ni Araw.

“Ang iyong sama ng loob.”

“Ha? Para saan?”

“Wala ng tanong-tanong.”

Bilang tiwala siya sa kaniyang kaibigang Buwan, iniabot ni Araw ang sakit na tanging si Buwan lang ang nakakakita. 

“Pito’t kalahating minuto sa oras ng mga tao pero pitong dekada sa panahon natin.” 

“Sandali... kung pitong dekada sa panahon natin, ibig sabihin lang nun ay kailangan ko nang magpaalam nang tuluyan? Teka! Teka!” pagmamakaawa ni Araw.”

“Wala nang pero, pero...”

At tumigil ang mundo sa mga mata ni Araw. Tumayo si Buwan sa harapan niya upang hindi na niya masulyapan si Lalaki. 

“Tama na ‘yang kahibangan mo, Araw at magpahinga ka na lang.”

Kusa na lang niyang ipinikit ang kaniyang mata. Wala na siyang magawa. Wala na siyang maramdaman.

Narinig niya ang paghangos ni Maitim na Ulap. 

“Mabuti na lang at napakiusapan ko ang kapalit mo, Araw. Pasensya na iha at naistorbo ka namin. Ikaw na ang papalit kay Araw. Pagkat, hindi sa lahat ng pagkakataon ay kaya naming pagtakpan ang kahinaan ng aming kaibigan.” habilin ni Maitim na Ulap. 

Sa muling pagsikat ng bagong araw, sabay na tumingin si Lalaki at ang kaniyang karelasyon. 

“Napakaganda ng araw, pero mas pipiliin pa rin kitang pagmasdan sa bawat araw ng buhay ko.” sabi ni Lalaki.

Pagsambit ng huling salita, sabay na umiling si Maitim na Ulap at Buwan. 

“Tama ang desisyon natin.” pagmamalaki ni Buwan.

Muling umeksena si Maitim na Ulap kaya’t bumuhos ang ulan. Nagtaka si Buwan at sumilip siya ibaba at nanlaki ang mga mata nito at nagbuntung-hininga. Maya-maya lamang ay nagtapat na si Maitim na Ulap.

Alam mo bang wala ng ibang hinintay si Lalaki kundi ang ulan dahil ito ang pagkakataon niya para makipagkita sa kaniyang karelasyon? Sa ilalim ng maliit na payong na yan, ipinagkakasya niya ang kanilang mga katawan para may dahilan siya na makasama ito -- habang nakatalukbong at nakakapagtago. Walang makakakita sa kanila. Alam ni Lalaki na hangga’t sumisikat ang araw ay bukas na bukas din ang mga mata ng mga tao. Mayroong manghuhusga sa kanilang relasyon. 

At sa pagbuhos ng ulan, muling binuksan ni Lalaki ang maliit na payong. Niyakap niya ang kaniyang karelasyon at hindi ininda ang pagkabasa ng kanilang damit. Inipit nila sa gitna ng kanilang mga dibdib ang maiksing tungkod ng payong.

 “Tama ang desisyon natin.” bulong ni Maitim na Ulap. 

Alas-sais na ng gabi at tuluyan ng tumungtong si Buwan sa trono.

[erroreena]

Tear it apart

Are we allowed to shed these tears? Are we grieving? Are we furious? Have we been trying to repress all these emotions?

I can sense a looming meltdown. 

They used to say that I’m a crybaby. I’m like a dysfunctional faucet. The phone numbers on the posts can’t be contacted. They must have figured out that the faucet in my eyes are beyond repair. They’ve purposely cut their telephone lines to avoid customers like me. 

My tears haven’t fallen for quite some time. I didn’t stop them from falling but they refuse to come out from my eyes. I don’t feel that I’m stronger without them. It feels strange to have zero tears despite these moments of weakness. 

When I learned that Custard kept his secret from me -- deliberately or not. I pitied him at first. Perhaps, the circumstances have pushed him to keep it. But god. Is that intentional? I’ve never confronted him whether it was intentional. Maybe he wanted to feed my fantasy, maybe he liked the attention that I’ve been pouring out to him. 

All this time, he had a partner. All this time, I was clueless. All this time, I’ve been a fool to think that he liked me back. This sounds cliche but heavens, I wasn’t spared from this cheap cliche. 

It’s been months since I’ve had my last romantic daydream about him. I promised myself that I have to unload all these feelings -- with evaporated tears-- so I can fully liberate myself. 

I’ve torn myself apart without shedding buckets of tears. I’ve teared up a bit, but the pain remained because I feel like I have no right to grieve. 

Why should I grieve when I was the one who has decided to pursue a colleague/stranger. You barely knew him. Cry in the corner as much as you want. But hey, why are the tears aren’t coming out? 

You’ve denied yourself of the truth that this person can hurt you this much -- no shared moments, little chitchats, meaningless conversations, and minimal interactions. 

I thought that this would take long but it ended up as a page. 

[erroreena]

Angry Reax

TW

It started with a single post. I got triggered by a single post and all my sense of stability were worn off. I woke up late the next day, the rage has surfaced again so I tried to sleep it off. But everytime I’d wake up, I’d feel the rage more and more. It felt so unfair. My tired body has been complaining because I’ve anchored myself to my job because I had  to keep my star status so I can sustain my salary. I deserve every peso that I earn but here’s my brother running away from his responsibilities. He thinks that my parents can always pay for his family’s bills. And there he is, he’s happily spending his days with his partner. He has forgotten that he has a child.

He doesn’t deserve to be called a father nor a provider. 

He’s just another irresponsible sperm carrier. I hope he’d lose all his sperms. 

It was another episode of self-destruction. I wanted to harm myself because I felt like everything is worthless. After all the hours that I’ve spent for corporate slavery, here’s my brother - my irresponsible brother. I’ve wrecked everything I’ve seen that night. I literally threw away the plate, the cap of the container. I’ve also grabbed the scissors to cut the bedsheet and pillowcase.   

I may be rusty at the moment but all I can feel is wrath. 

Anger is the easiest button to press to make me unstable. Life has been okay until my brother came sprouting again like an absolute nuisance. 

Asshole. 

[erroreena]

Market yourself

Being the slowpoke and late-bloomer that I am, I have the scarcity of words for myself. I panic a lot when I need to show up for self-introductions. I had to write several versions of "Who I am?” so that I can pull them up when the need arises.

The most basic questions seem to be complex for me. Either I can express them to a minimum or maximum. I fear that they may never suffice to describe the Reenaness of Reena. 

I still describe myself as a writer even if I struggle each day to hit counts and capture the value proposition. I rest my individuality on this single word. Can I use creative as my preferred adjective? I am worried that I can’t attain the bare minimum standards. 

Learning how to market yourself begins with believing your capabilities. You have to showcase your skillset. You have to persuade them that you can bring value to them. If you’d keep on hosting your pity parties, no one would seek for your services. 

I learned it the hard way. When I was desperate to be employed, I had to bank on my previous experiences and track record. No one can vouch for me so I had to defend myself. It was a tough one. 

Everytime I have to apply for a job, I feel easily exhausted because I’m stretching out myself to prove that I’m worth every dime. That’s how I took my starter kit for this rat race. 

When I asked for our HR’s honest opinion of my CV, she said most of the recruiters could have overlooked mine because I seem to lack the skill of marketing myself. After all, why apply for a marketing job when you can’t market yourself? 

It called for an epiphany. It prompted me to rethink how I do things. I have to evaluate my current assets. I might be in the middle of stagnation.But I won’t let that happen. Just like Clarisse who periodically revamps her website, I have to update my skills and my description too.

In the wise words of our CTO, “learn to market yourself if you want to have an edge among your peers.” 

I won’t let this world undervalue me again. 

[erroreena]

Ang baon niyang llanera

Matapos kumain ng tanghalian, binuksan niya ang ref. Una niyang inusisa ang laman ng freezer kung san tumambad lamang sa sa kaniya ang mga supot ng baboy, isda at manok -- mistulang nakiisa na sila sa hulma ng yelo. 

Kasabay nang pagtiklop ng kaniyang katawan, sumunod ang mga mata na biglang bumaling sa llanera. Inilabas niya agad ito para ilapag sa mesa, tsaka siya kumuha ng bagong hugas na kutsara. At siyempre, bago upakan ‘to, piniktyuran muna niya nang madokumento ang panghimagas na nakabalot sa foil ngayong lunch break. Isinandal niya ang kaniyang cellphone sa pitsel upang mapanood ang mga IG stories na awtomatikong gumagalaw kahit hindi niiya pindutin ang kasunod. Habang abala ang kaniyang mga mata sa pagtitig, tinanggal niya ang nagi-iingay na foil sa bawat pagkislot nito. Sinunggaban na niya ang kutsara at inulubog sa leche flan. 

Sa unang kagat, o kay tamis. Sa kaniyang dila’y tinunaw nang manuot ang tamis na may halong pait? Nasunog ba ang arnibal? Nangibabaw ang pait kaya’t ibinuhos niya ang lahat ng laman ng pitsel sa kaniyang bibig. Tumagas ang tubig sapagkat napakaliit ng kaniyang bibig kumpera sa bibig ng pitsel. Tumaob ang selpon na nawalan ng sandalan. 

Muli niyang tiningnan ang llanera at tinakpan ang foil. Sayang nga naman kung di niya kakainin ang natira. Nakaisang kagat pa lang siya. Siguro’y nanibago lang siya sa lasa. Matagal-tagal na rin siyang di nakatikim nito. Siguro’y di lang perpekto ang pagtimpla at pagkakabuo nito. Pagkain pa rin naman ito na nasa ref para kainin. 

Napagpasiyahan niyang baunin ito sa hapong iyon. Ayos lang naman sa kaniya kung kakainin niya ‘to nang walang lamig. Maglalakad siya papunta sa Rabbit Hole nang makahinga naman siya mula sa magdamagang trabaho. Kahit kaunting pahinga lang, kahit kaunting hinga lang. Naglakad siya nang naglakad. Tirik ang araw pero di niya nadama ang anumang init na dumampi sa kaniyang balat. Nasanay na siguro siya sa ganitong klima sa Pilipinas. Kaytagal din niyang hindi nakalanghap ng malinis na hangin. Nagpatuloy siya sa paglalakad patungo sa kung saanman. Nang nakita niya ang damuhan, naisipan niyang magpiknik -- mag-isa. Inilabas niya ang baon niyang llanera. Muli nilubog ang kutsara at sinubo ang buong ulo nito.  

O kay tamis pa rin. Tinunaw niya ito hanggang sa manuot ang tamis na may halong pait. Pero tila tinanggap ng kaniyang dila ang lasa ng pait at pinili nitong manahimik. Hindi na niya kinwestyon ang lasa nito. 

Tumayo na siya at naglakad habang buhat ang llanera at hawak ang kutsara. Naglakad lang siya -- wala namang hahabol sa kaniyang langgam, wala namang oras na hinahabol. Maglalakad. Uusad? Malay ba niya. 

Bakit nga ba niya binitbit ang llanera? Bakit kailangan baunin ito ngayong alam naman niyang pupunta siya sa Rabbit Hole ngayong araw ng pahinga? Araw pa nga ba ng pahinga? Di ba’t lampas na? Teka. 

Napatigil siya nang muli niyang narinig ang pagkislot ng foil. Anong tunog nga ba ito? Nakakarindi. Tinuklap niya ang buong foil mula sa ibabaw ng llanera. Sinimot niya ang bawat leche flan na dumikit sa bawat singit nito. Mapait-pait. Muling umangal ang kaniyang dila. 

Bakit tila hindi yan ang dilaw ng leche flan? Bakit may brown? Bakit natutuklap? Bakit hindi yari sa aluminum ang llanera? Bakit hindi siya tumitingin habang kinakain ito? 

Wala siyang ideya kung natunton niya ang Rabbit Hole. Wala siyang ideya kung araw pa ba ito ng kaniyang pahinga. Dinala ba niya ang kinakalawang na llanera papunta rito? O ang kinakalawang na llanera ang nagdala sa kaniya?

[erroreena]

Litson Baka

Matapos batiin ng “Good morning” kada umaga, nakakakuha naman ako ng sagot na “gmornin.” Dadalawang salita na nga lang, pinaikli pa. Cool ba pakinggan ‘yun? Ganun ba ang lenggwahe sa mga chat room na nakasanayan niya?

Matapos kumustahin kung ayos lang siya, nastress ba siya sa araw na ‘to, kung bakit siya naka-SL, ina-update naman niya ako kung nasan siya. Siguro dama niyang inaalala ko siya. ‘Di basta ang pag-uusisa ko, may pakialam talaga ako sa kaniya. 

Matapos makahanap ng balita o piktyur na pwedeng naming pag-usapan, agad kong isesend sa kaniya para naman wala akong mintis sa pagpaparamdam. Balita kasi sa ‘kin ay matampuhin siya. Kaya ayokong isipin niya na di siya dumaplis sa isip ko. Oo, sa lahat ng bagay, naaalala ko siya. Minsan, di ko mapigilan ang sarili ko na mag-send nang mag-send hanggang sa mapuno ang chatbox.

Matapos abutin ng ilang oras na pakikipag-usap sa kaniya, ang dami ko nang alam tungkol sa kaniya --- pero anong alam niya sa akin? Bakit di niya binabalik ang mga tanong sa akin? Bakit tila wala siyang gustong kilalaning bahagi ko? Baka masyado lang akong nag-iisip. Baka gusto lang niya na dahan-dahanin ang proseso. 

Matapos i-screenshot ang lahat ng usapan namin, habang aliw na aliw akong isipin ang maliliit na kahulugan ng bawat batuhan ng salita, umaapaw ang kilig --  may gusto kaya siyang sabihin sa akin na nakapaloob sa mga mga munting mensahe? Diretsahin mo na ako, please.

Matapos ang araw-araw na pagcha-chat, baka pwede na kami magtawagan. “Can I call you?” Sabi niya sasabihan niya ako kapag pwede na. Buong gabi akong naghintay. Buong gabi kong hawak ang cellphone ko. Baka kasi bigla siyang tumawag. Alas dyes pasado na. Walang paramdam. 

Matapos magtanong kung pwede ko siya kitain bilang minsan lang ako dumayo sa lugar niya, di ako nakakuha ng matinong sagot. “The subscriber can not be reached.”

Matapos akong mag-aya ng dinner, sinabi niyang may iba raw siyang plano sa gabing ‘yun. Okay lang naman. Naiintindihan ko. Nagke-crave daw kasi siya. Ang agenda pala niya sa gabing iyon ay makahanap ng branch ng Andok’s na nagbebenta ng Litson Baka. Hindi raw kasi yun mabibili sa lahat ng branch. Baka limited edition. Baka bihira ka lang makahanap nun. Baka kaya di pwedeng palampasin. Baka kasi matapos nang ilang beses kong pagbabaka sakali ay wala naman akong halaga sa kaniya.

Baka nga mas matimbang ang Litson Baka kaysa sa ‘kin. Sana’y nabusog siya.

Baka naman, baka naman, baka naman, ba--kla naman?

#BakaNaman o #BekiNaman. 

Eh, kung ganun man, maaintindihan ko naman siya. 

[erroreena]

Out of office reply

In my previous job, we were taught to activate our out of office reply at the end of our shift. A little task that means a lot -- a sense of boundary. 

I have to admit that I’ve always had the tendency to overwork myself for no apparent reason. Either I have self-imposed sky high standards or I procrastinate in the most terrible way possible.

In a nutshell, I’ve been spending most of my days feeling miserable and dreading my working patterns that lead me to ending the work day at past midnight. Heck, I don’t even get an overtime pay for this self-torture. 

I was lying down on my bed when it hit me, “Who am I outside work?” A sleeping, half-dead, floating body? I guess that would be apt. I can barely count on my fingers the tasks that I do that are non-work related. They said that you shouldn’t feel bad for resting, but because everything is lop-sided in my life now, I can barely find the sweet spot for a sense of balance. In Filipino, there’s a statement that they always quip for my current situation: “ Kinain na ng sistema.”

I’m both dismayed and disgusted with what has happened to me. I don’t want to spend another quarter of my life feeling and acting this way. Fortunately, I still have a sense of self-awareness to spot all these bad habits and unhealthy patterns that pull me away from my best version. 

In the first six months of my current job, I still had a sense of boundary, but as my boss praised me to be one of the rising stars in our company, the pressure to to be at my best performance began to sink in -- poisoning my mind to work extra hours so I can still be deemed as a high-performing employee.

Nearly two months ago, I volunteered to submit an article in our office magazine. It’s an employee feature because I wanted to write a piece on how our company pushed me to be at my best and how I transformed to a change-embracing person. But I’ve been deprioritizing it and been missing the deadline -- July 15, August 3, August 15. As I’ve said, I’ve been on a slump. And I’m just starting to pick up my momentum again. 

When I noticed that whenever I write down and post my thoughts here on Tumblr, it rekindles my teenage dreams of being a content writer -- a magazine writer. So, I figured, I should be writing here again. I can expound my thoughts here without any fears. This is where I can literally write HOT. I’ve missed this rush. 

The nature of my work is 50% content producing and understanding technical concepts -- the field of study that isn’t my first love -- so I need to regain my ‘writer mode.’ No, I can’t afford to lose this title. This is where my identity lies. 

Outside work, I’m a writer and artist. 

Outside work, I push myself to develop my skills.

Outside work, I still dream. 

[erroreena]

On my way to the Rabbit Hole

Sun’s out and you close your eyes not to sleep but to linger in fantasy. The sun’s eyes have been glaring at you because you have been sabotaging yourself again, despite last night’s pledge to change. You’re not escaping from the day but you’re running away from the reality that you have to be accountable of your actions. 

A little sense of responsibility shouldn’t hurt, right? But why are you concocting a different narrative in your head?

In your head, the sun rises in the west yet you accept it as your own version of reality. You can rewrite your narrative here because no one can see the hasty erasures borne out of impulse and aggression. You can shake off everything that distracts you from glazing the subject of your fixation. Dipping your fingers to a transparent yet viscous liquid have been keeping you attached to the idea of perfect compatibility -- or a destined romance. 

Deliberately tearing off parts of your past has been your pre-ritual so that you can easily paste these cut-out images and text together. And every superfluous item would be formed as a right fit to a puzzle that only you can see. No, no one can call you out for this act of childish foolishness. 

You list down all the details in your handy-dandy journal, broadcast the latest updates like Showbiz reporter on Facebook live mode and sound like a first-timer because you think that this is the reason why you have struggled for so long. 

The daily visits to his/her profile give you a sense of comfort -- finally, you have recognized your new home.

Is it fulfilling to remember every post -- the pizzas, the lackluster travel selfies, the low resolution photos, the cooking attempts, the book from a local publishing house, and the pedestrian captions?

Is it still a eureka moment whenever you glide to sweeping generalizations about his/her character after reading his/her posts?

The answer is ‘yes,’ and another ‘yes.’ 

That’s the reason why you’ve dropped the keys while threading through this path, right? Why open your eyes when returning would mean that you have to confront every inconvenience? 

Each passing day in this journey has nailed down the termite-bitten wooden scraps for you to continue crawling into this rabbit hole and build your own headquarters. Designed to give you an overflowing supply of dopamine, you have locked the door here. Plus, there is no room for questions and doubts here. Everything feels good. Everything feels real. 

Soothe yourself before you crumble. It’s a pleasure to stay in the rabbit hole.

[erroreena]

The Weight of Backlogs

I’ve been on an ~artistic~ slump for months now. 

Should I blame it to my voluminous corporate workload? 

Should I blame it to my ailing body? 

Should I blame it to my time mismanagement?  

I grieve a little everytime I open my eyes and operate like a robot and corpowhore. I’m getting suffocated with my self-inflicting toxic habits that ruin my pledge to become a passionate artist. From the day that I started this blog, I’ve always tagged myself as a frustrated artist. Have I made any progress? Would my teenage self be proud of me? After years of fighting for my dreams, I’m allowing them to fizzle out again. They seem beyond my reach again.

To reach my maximum functionality at work, I’m supposed to have eight hours of sleep. In the last six months, I’ve sorely failed to reach that number. My circadian rhythm is messed up and my bad habits aren’t helping, of course. I always resort to overworking.

I can’t even reach the bare minimum anymore. I feel disgusted when I have backlogs for journal entries. 

A single box to tick. A single page per day. A single step to keep the writer dream alive. 

I haven’t updated my writing portfolio. It has been underwhelming year for my artistic dreams. Hold on, the year isn’t over yet. Do I still have the time to catch up?

I’ve almost pressed the replay button on my rabbit hole phase for Custard. But then, that stingy feeling, just sent all the red flags for me to drop him again. And I noticed how he is not healthy for me - may it be a subject of fixation or friendship. It’s a sequel that no one asked for. It’s a sequel that reminded me that I don’t want to be used again. 

While pondering on how to pick up my pieces, I realized that typing down my unfiltered thoughts here on Tumblr is one of the best decisions that I’ve done in high school. I may be scrambling for words -- trying to make sense -- but whenever I’m here, I get to write here with the intention to reread it soon.

I rarely reread my journal entries. I just do that activity to exercise my mind in articulating my thoughts and feelings. I know that I’d cringe to read each page. Despite all the cringey feeling, I know that I’ve allowed myself to be vulnerable, authentic and incoherent. Sometimes, we beat ourselves up in composing the most brief and safest statements and texts that we forget how it is to be a writer of emotion. 

I am just another human who tirelessly attempts to survive in this world. I carry the weight of the consequences of being vulnerable whenever I choose to be carried away by my impulses. 

I guess my time’s up again. 

[erroreena]

Tear it apart (part 1 of x)

(This new passion ‘project’ was initially titled us ‘Tear them apart’ but it might sound like a homewrecker’s statement for all the wrong reasons (or is it just me?). So good thing, I decided to change the word. Ah! All it takes is one word to make it sound a million times better.)

As usual, I’m crawling back again to writing and t’s evident how rusty the quality is. Nevertheless, I’m pursuing this project because I love expressing my feelings through words. Yes, I’m going back to my authentic self -- vulnerable and brave.

For months, I was under the illusion that I can finally have someone who would give me the experience of requited love. But boy, I was shattered into pieces. I tried to restore my being as soon as possible. I cried it out while leaning on the cabinet -- because I’m the most dramatic person you’ll ever know.  

The tears aren’t as much compared to my previous heartbreaks because the attachment is not as deep, but the illusion’s there. I still have a broken heart to mend.

I’m starting a multimedia project with texts, something like a zine. I’m going to illustrate the tears that I’m not allowed to shed because I don’t have good reasons. I don’t have the right to cry about it anymore. 

Hey, “tear” in tear it apart doesn’t mean tears, right?? But why..

HAHA. Yes. 

I need to tear apart the paper where I’d be illustrating these tears. 

[erroreena]

I’ve been dead for years. Just let me live for now. 

I always take KALAT into a whole new level

[erroreena]

I can’t smile without my teeth

Nice to meet you! 

Oh. My teeth? They are inherently performers like me. Can you see how they are positioned? 

Their blocking is intended for a speech choir. Some are moving forward, while some are shy enough and they prefer not to be in the first row. Or is it a matter of height? I guess that is something that I should confirm. I think we should have an alignment meeting. 

Yes, I know. They are misaligned. This isn’t an overbite. 

Yes, I know. I need braces to have them fixed. I need a dentist. But it’s not included in my budget at the moment. 

So I guess, I’m left with no choice but to accept it. And the mere fact that I can speak in front of you without overthinking how I look whenever I open my mouth wide enough to enunciate every word, I guess I have long accepted my flawed teeth. 

I can’t smile without my teeth -- my flawed teeth. 

Whenever I have nightmares, I can witness how my teeth are crumbling and crushing into pieces. I can’t take that horrifying experience. I get those nightmares whenever I have self-esteem and self-worth issues. 

Having teeth inside your mouth is a source of confidence. Each tooth serves its purpose by helping you chew and contributing to your gesture of happiness. 

As for me, I don’t naturally smile with my lips closed. There’s always a special participation of my imperfect set of teeth.

Flawed as they may be, they are a part of me that I have learned to acknowledge. 

At the end of the day, I am happy that I can still smile.  

[erroreena]

Fear of Unrequited Affection

To my all non-existent, loyal readers of my blog, you probably know how many times I’ve fallen into the trap of unrequited affection. Hence, I even have a playlist for it. 

I told Panj that I’m going to break patterns this time around. I’m going to make sure that he should be the one pursuing me. Since ’m tired of do all the chasing but I still remain in this sticky situation of fixations. I thought it’s just a momentary fixation but it has become a developing story, similar to breaking news that I see online. It has movement each day so Panj gets to hear all those unnecessary updates. Forgive me, my dearest friend and conscience. 

But when bestfriend told me that he is a kind of person who would need relentless load of questions before I get to know him, that’s when I realized that I’m in for a long haul. I need to have the patience so I had to scrap the expectation where he has to do the first move. 

When bestfriend told him that I’m interested in talking to him and all the tell tale signs that I like him, I felt like running away. Then bestfriend told me that he is planning to talk to me. 

For the sake of my non-existent readers, I’m revealing my pet name for him to better understand this narrative. This pet name came out from a Zoom meeting when I’ve thought of connecting it to his surname. So let us call him Custard. 

Lo and behold, Custard messaged me. Need I forget that Custard was the one who first sent a Good Morning message that prompted all these butterflies in my stomach to go in berserk mode? Yes, that Good morning got me. I felt soft and my heart turned into marshmallows that are ready to become S’mores once the flame of illusion touches me.  

It felt like he was trying to have a conversation with me, but after a while, there was no follow through. I have to be the one to start the ball rolling, again and again. Well, the good thing is he gives lengthy responses.  Yet those responses don’t translate to the assurance that he’s into me. 

It’s too early to draw conclusions but I can’t help but think about it. What if this would lead to another unrequited affection? The mere act of churning all my pride to message him first is an indication of how serious I am in knowing him. Not for the thrill of it anymore but for a long-term ride. To seal the deal, I even have a playlist for him.

Why him? Why choose Custard? 

Custard, bear in mind how much risk I’m taking as I choose to message you and strike a real conversation with you. If you’re getting overwhelmed with me. Please tell me. If you’re not interested, please tell me. Let’s dissolve this illusion altogether. I know that you’re aware of my interest towards you so what are you planning to do with me. Will you just let me stay in the corner as I rot with this attraction for you. 

Over the years of constant rejection, I’ve developed this fear of unrequited affection.  Even if I have been loving myself more than ever, I may still find myself vulnerable once I discover that I’m the only one who is exerting all the efforts and investing all the emotions. 

Custard, I don’t take calculated risks when it comes to affection. Are you willing to invest time in knowing me more? 

Other notes include:

Are you just shy or are you simply uninterested?

Are you complacent because you know that I’m the one who is dying to know you?

[erroreena]

Crush # 17(?)

To be honest, I’m not sure if this is the right number. I have to admit that I’ve lost count even if I’ve listed everyone. I guess some are official, while some are unofficial, because I have established vague parameters and definitions.

Let the second level of blabbering begin. 

I will dissect this again and again until I get to juice out new details.

It was around December when I first noticed him during a faceless Zoom meeting for work (of course!). As usual, I’m just transcribing and taking down everything I can hear from the discussion, and apparently, there’s this guy who stood out. He pointed out every little detail that reflected how meticulous he is with his job. Clear-cut work ethics. I was in awe to hear this faceless guy. Perhaps, the only facial reference that I have of him is his Viber photo that I didn’t care about. But from that moment, he became more distinct for me. He’s that officemate who has something to bring to the table. Full of insights - he had a brain of his own. 

Come January during a presentation, I was controlling the slide sharing and I was shookt when it was moving without me clicking it. He was presenting at that time and I can feel his uneasiness with the slides when it’s obvious that he isn’t done with his part yet. I kept on troubleshooting. It was a mess and I felt so embarrassed. I felt like I ruined his momentum. After the presentation, I immediately apologized to him in the group chat. When I checked the presentation, it had animation effects that weren’t removed. Epic fail. 

After that embarrassing encounter, his name was just passing by in my emails. 

For whatever reason, I brought up to Panj that I’m interested in him but I don’t want to touch the fine details because I might take the next step after this little fascination over him. But being the person that I am, I wasn’t able to control myself. However, I was still self-aware. I know that he isn’t my type. I’m not attracted to people who are non-artists and have narrow eyes. 

Fine, he is not my type but why am I spending time to fish out information about him? 

When I brought up to my friends that I think I’m getting attracted to a man (again), they said that they aren’t surprised anymore. True enough, this isn’t the first time. I often identify as a lesbian, but now I identify as queer. 

If I’m now accepting this feeling and validating this attraction, I also have to know what should I do next. I can’t just let these loose ends linger on my mind. I have to act on it. But of course, I’d always end up stalking the person as a passive response. Classic. 

For the thrill of it. Sometimes, I see it that way. I’m becoming reckless whenever I spill my own secrets to people who can give me information. I had to make sure that he is single and has no kids. So when I got to fish out info from his office bestfriend, I found myself screaming at this most superficial discovery. 

That is just first on my list of non-negotiables so I would know whether I should pursue someone or not. 

I must say that I am proud that I can enumerate my non-negotiables below:

It’s okay if you’re not an artist/writer as long as you can see the value of art so I can tag you along in watching plays and films, visiting cultural sites and museums, and joining art-related activities.

One must be single and has no kids. (Again. For obvious reasons.) 

One must not be a homophobe. 

One must have a similar political stance with me. 

One must understand the value of mental health awareness. 

One must treat me right and respect me for who I am. 

One must be honest, sincere and loyal. Also, I don’t see myself to be dating a polyamorous person. I don’t find it practical and at the same time, it can trigger all my insecurities.

One must be humble. 

One must be mature. 

One must be okay with physical love language. It’s not that I’m clingy but it’s the best way for me to express the warmth and intensity of my emotions. 

Bonus points if one is practical and simple. I don’t like going to dates where I will be pressured to shell out big sums of money. I like saving money. 

For me to know if I should really call him my crush, I should know what kind of person he is. Not just that guy with strong work ethics. Fine, I can hear you. You’re probably judging the first reason why I got attracted to him. I find it hilarious too. But it shows a sneak peek of his character, although that is not the be all and end all of everything. 

I need to have out-of-work conversations with him. I need to know what kind of person he is. 

Because at this point, I’m open to the possibility of dating a man -- something that can lead to a long-term relationship. If he is someone who would qualify to those requirements, then it’s a go. And yes, I have standards because I can’t settle for less. 

[erroreena]

For archival purposes

[erroreena]

Oo na, gusto kong maranasan na ako naman ang ligawan. Ano bang pakiramdam kapag may nagkakagusto sa iyo? Yung tipong naglalaan ng panahon para mas makilala ka pa. Naiinis ako sa sarili ko dahil nagiging alipin na naman ako ng frustration at desperation. Ilang beses na ako nabiktima nito.

Nagkakalat na naman ako. Gusto kong kiligin. Gusto kong maging bata ulit. Sa tingin ko, repressed or delayed desires ito noong teenager ako. Madalas sabihin ang katagang, "bata ka pa at di mo pa naiintindihan yan." Pero ngayong matanda na ako at lubos ko nang naiintindihan ang panliligaw at pagmamahal, ayoko nang sumubok.

Oo na. Sa lalaki na naman. Hay. Di ko na kilala ang sarili ko. Pero di ko alam kung gusto ko ba talaga siya o baka nalilito lang ako. Well, di ko naman siya sobrang gusto. Kaya masama na magpakita ng intensyon kung di ko rin naman kaya panindigan.

Pano kapag nagkagusto siya sa akin tapos ako di naman ako desidido sa gusto ko mangyari? Ang unfair. Makikipaglaro lang ba ako? Unfair yun. Sa tingin ko, hindi siya ganung klaseng tao. Hmm. Di ko pa naman siya lubusang kilala. Pero ayokong ako pa ang makapanakit. Di naman ako ganito noon. Di naman porket nareject na ako nang ilang beses, ibig sabihin may karapatan na akong hindi seryosohin ang nararamdaman ng ibang tao.

Pero nandito na naman tayo sa blog na nakakaalam ng karupukan ko. Hay.