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may 2019 bring you your “i’m doing better than i ever was” moment

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It's Christmas Eve and the year is slowly coming to an end. And judging from the meager amount of posts I've written on this thing this past year, you can only assume that yes there is a pattern-- I somehow keep only coming back when things are bad. And I hate to admit it, but yes things are bad. My last post on this blog was written at a confusing time. I was a fresh graduate in need of a job, who was also missing her life in the city. I am glad to report that I did eventually land an amazing job and for a time, my life was perfect. I didn't want to say it outloud in fear of jinxing it but truly, everything was perfect. And then December came around and everything went downhill from there. I once again lost the love of my life over an argument I didn't even want to have, work became more hectic, and I found myself detaching from everything.

Now it's Christmas Eve and I have lost all hope. Everything was supposed to be different. I have come to terms with the fact that I am not the only person at fault here and that it takes two to make a decision, but ultimately it feels like the choice was made without my consent. I have no right to complain because again, I was the one who picked a fight I didn't want to have. I have been told that there was a build up. And things don't just go that bad right away. I hate myself for it. I truly do. Why do I keep ruining all the good things going on in my life?

At this point I feel stuck. I'm drifting in and out of a reality I don't want to have. Everything is moving forward except for this. And being a person who always chooses time and time again to do something about my life's crises, it's frustrating being pushed into a corner and having to wait for someone else to decide. The mistakes that have yet to be corrected are now laid out in front of us, yet no one is making a move to do anything about it.

Goddamn frustrating.

Pride takes you nowhere, really. Absolutely nowhere. And here we are. Right in the middle of it.

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“I am alright without you but I am not happy. I am well without you but I am empty.”

— Lukas W. // Coffee thoughts #153

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there is no ‘right time’ there is just time and what you choose to do with it 

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These days I just honestly want to go full on hibernation mode. Not because I lack sleep or because I feel like I need it, simply because I want to shut off. I need to shut off. I know it’s only been a month, but I have honestly lost all sense of purpose. My life isn’t here. It’s in Manila and for some reason, the universe just won’t let me get back there already. The mornings and the evenings are the worst. This wave of sadness just hits me and I find myself sitting in one corner of my room crying-- or trying to, at least. If you know me well enough, you probably know that I have a problem with crying and expressing emotions.

I’ve grown tired of telling myself that things will fall into place because I honestly doubt that already. If there’s any falling that’s going to be happening around here, it’s probably me just falling apart again. I feel like I don’t have a hold on my life and it’s just slipping by me and I’m forced to watch. I’ve done everything I can and everyone’s telling me to just wait and see.

But I can’t. I was never a passive person and now I’m being forced to be one. I don’t know how long I can take this, but I’m not kidding when I say that I’m losing it. The sadness isn’t helping. A few weeks ago after having a major argument with my mother, I found myself penning a suicide note. I hate myself whenever I remember.

I need to get my life in order and I’ve been trying the best that I can to do whatever it takes to help myself, but nearly everything is beyond my control. “Wait and see,” they tell me. I can’t. I can’t anymore. Jesus Christ Universe, for once do me a solid and get me out of here already.

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Hey, it’s me again.

If I were to assign a theme to this blog right now, it should be something in between the lines of consistently apologizing because ironically enough, that seems to be the only thing I’m good at doing whenever I’m back here. As always, again I apologize for going off the grid. Like I always say time and time again, a lot has happened in my life these past few months. Maryel and I actually finished our thesis despite all the shitty things we had to go through (our entire class congratulated us after the defense and I goddamn know that was well deserved because of everything we had to endure), Professor Tuble passed on the day of the binding, I exited the Arch of the Centuries (after years of watching seniors do it on their Baccalaureate mass ever since my freshman year), went on numerous adventures with my friends, got back together (officially) with Jann, and basically watched my life fluctuate from really crappy to great to limbo to shit to limbo again. In other words, I’m stuck. The days seem to be dragging on. It has been a month since my graduation and here I am still unemployed and stuck in the province. As that aforementioned summary has tried to show, I am stuck. In limbo.

I grew up Catholic and for the first eight years of my schooling, I attended a Catholic Montessori school. It was there I was taught the foundations of the religion and the concepts of Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory. My other Christian relatives dispute the last one’s existence, but this month has been proof of its existence for me. I know that right now, I’m just probably in that place between where I was and where I’ll be, but that doesn’t feel like a good thing right now. I just feel stuck. And even the Bible doesn’t have a lot of nice things to say about places in between-- if my memory serves me right, I think you have to choose between being one of the righteous and being one of the wicked. The neutral are “thrown up.” I’m basically vomit, if we are to be religious about this entire thing.

I haven’t been writing much as well either and I am starting to hate myself for it. I suppose that’s another reason why I decided to resurrect this thing in the first place. I can’t bring myself to actually write with a pen and paper both because of my laziness and other personal reasons. Anyway, I’m starting to think I’m getting rusty so I may as well get practice. Besides, I need a place to vent. I think I’ve lost hope for myself. And yeah, I know I may want to take that back a few months down the line but seriously. I’m in /that/ place again and I don’t know what to do with myself anymore.

I’ve had a lot to endure during my twenty year stay on this little planet and last year, I saw what I’d like to think is the best version of myself. I need that girl with me right now, but I’m afraid she’s dead. Or missing, if you want to be hopeful. I don’t know. Everything feels like a dead end to me right now. I told myself this the other night, but I think I have to say it outloud: I feel like I’m in the middle of a street with the lane on my right being the fast lane that’s moving forward, while on my left is a lane filled with decline and all the cars moving backwards. The lane I happen to be standing on consists of me and only me. And I’m not moving. I’m just standing there watching everything and everyone pass me by. Some people are failing, others are succeeding. While there’s me unmoving and stationary. 

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It’s been a while since I updated this little thing. And as always, a lot has happened since my last real update. Both good and bad, but hey that’s life for you. I suffered a whole lot of downs last year, the biggest ones being the loss of my grandmother and a breakup from a long term relationship, but the thing though is, last year gave me a lot of lessons. And despite the pain I had to suffer in between, the happiness and strength I gained were all worth it. That sounds so clichéd, but I mean it. I made a poor attempt of restarting a new and better blog by migrating this one to Wordpress but still, life proved to be moving far too fast for me to document everything as I had planned. Hopefully, this year I’ll be able to jumpstart my more adult-y blog and faithfully update that one. Won’t be getting rid of this one though, I’m sentimental like that. But this is all beside the point.

I am down to my final semester in university and I cannot believe that I’ll be graduating in a few months. Because of that, I have recently found myself amidst a growing existential crisis. I have been dreading and overthinking my life after graduation and with my thesis on top of all that, you could only imagine how stressed out I am whenever I lay down and think about all of this. But hey, at least I’m getting out in a few months.

It’s funny how so much has changed between this time last year and right now as I am writing this. Again, applying the lessons I learned from last year, 2017 was poignant and somewhat good in its own little ways. But really, such a stark contrast from now. Those little mantras about how things will get better actually came true. I find myself smiling whenever I think about that. I suppose sometimes you really have to believe in something for it to come true. These days, I find myself envying 2017 me and her unwavering faith in that belief because I could really use it now. A lot of opportunities are being thrown my way and although I have been constantly taking them, I’ve also been doubting myself and questiong my adequacy. I know that’s something I should change about myself, and believe me when I say that I’m trying. I’ve failed here and there, but like I said, I’ve been trying and I’m proud of myself.

I’m proud because despite my lapses, I have seen my progress and it has been great. Last year pushed me into being this better version of myself and although I have yet to fully embrace myself, I like the drive that has now been fueling me. I noticed how I mostly wrote about my adventures and my friends in my entries but rarely about the passions I picked up along the way— I reignited my creativity streak by getting back into design and delving into other writing such as song writing. I’ve also made a lot of progress with my novel and even sent out query letters last January. I’ve also been making little lists like all the new films I have seen and all that. I can’t explain it, but that little old creativity bug I have been missing since I was sixteen somehow found its way back to me.

On the note of adventures, I have had plenty. Since my last entry, I have so far been stranded in my dormitory all day with my roommates due to flooding (if you happen to live with six girls in Manila all the while in college, days like these can prove to be interesting; food scavenging alone is an entertaining sight to see), visited two book sales and binged to my heart’s desire, seen several films I still constantly rave about, walked all the way from Quezon City’s border back to my dormitory in the dead of night, heard so many great OPM acts live, and found my way back home.

Life can be good, life can be bad. But that’s just how it is. Here’s to surviving the bad, and living the good parts to the fullest this 2018.

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my grandma told me something yesterday that pretty much changed my outlook on life. we were having dinner and talking about my future, and how all of my friends seem to be doing so much better than i am, and she looked at me and said “hey, if we all had the same path in life the road would be too crowded” and i haven’t stopped thinking about that since.

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‘Home…’, she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. ‘It’s a funny word, isn’t it? Something so well known to anyone and still so utterly different in its subjective definition.’ ‘What does it mean to you?’, I asked and her gaze wandered off into distance. She did not say a single word for several seconds and when she looked at me again, a frown was wrinkling her forehead. Her lips said ‘I don’t know, what about you?’ but her eyes gave away what she did not want to speak out loud; that her home was on the road, at a different apartment each night, constantly under an ever changing sky. So how would I have been able to tell her that I, undeniably, undoubtedly, had found home in the wrinkles when she laughed and that colour when she blushed?

// excerpt from a book I’ll never write j.d.m. (via poetryandthesea)

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why i dont like the daddy kink tbh

Ya know I really had to give that whole d*ddy dom shit a side eye because I was on POF and this guy messaged me about being into it. He mentioned in the conversation (he meant for this to be a cute funny story, mind you) that while he was at Toys R us shopping for his young niece, he ended up getting an erection in one of the aisles because he heard a young girl telling her mother what toy she wanted. Apparently, he had “trained” his girlfriend to talk like a child and used to by toys for her so the whole atmosphere + kids aroused him. Like I guess constantly associated children/childish things with sex had a Pavlovian response? Honestly??? I think it’s time we discussed how more often than not, some of these “kinks” can and do spill over into real life and it’s dangerous

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Growing up, I was told I was too fat. And then come puberty, I was told I was too skinny. When I finally stepped into high school, I was bullied for that said skinniness and was labeled as the “pretty girl who knew too much.” At fifteen, I was convinced that this boy genuinely loved me only to have my heart broken and disappointed far too many times I could count. High school was a horrible time. Girls around me were mean and spiteful while most of the boys were plain rude. I couldn’t make sense of the whole “high school is the best four years you’ll ever get” agenda because all I wanted to do was get out.

There were, of course, people who helped me get through the day and to this very hour as I type this, are still some of my very best friends. We had great adventures together, random outings spent swimming, cutting classes to rent films, laughing until our stomachs hurt. Those were the days where the bad days seemed worth it to endure seeing as that I’d get good days like that somewhere down the line.

But I will not lie, recognizing that wasn’t easy. Back in high school, people only considered cutting as a form of self harm. They didn’t think of isolation and or letting things deliberately harm you as one of its forms, and for some time, that made me think I was okay. But I wasn’t.

Still, I had to go on and one day, without me even knowing it, it was time to get out. I’d say I missed it because my final year in high school was actually genuinely amazing, but I didn’t. I was finally leaving this sleepy town I never even considered home and from there, I marked the beginning of my real life.

It’s funny because a part of me was probably thinking that that meant life would stop throwing its worst at me. But I was wrong. In fact, it still had numerous shit storms to offer. From giving me the worst day of my life during the beginning of one of my best years, to a horrible 2016 featuring trauma I may have to carry for the rest of my life, to the horrible chapters this year held; life never really runs out of horror stories.

So why am I still here?

To tell you the truth, I don’t know either.

Here’s what I will tell you, though: I am glad I stayed. And I hope that you do too. The storms that I have endured made me into the person I am today. For a time, they turned me cold and imbued inside of me this hatred I would very much like to keep dead, but this year has taught me a whole different side to handling the pain and the horrors that come my way.

Let yourself break, let yourself feel. But like water, keep flowing. And like water, remain soft. 

You are not alone in this. I can assure you that. There are days wherein getting out of bed poses to be the world’s biggest challenge, and days wherein interacting proves to be too much, but we must endure. We owe ourselves that.

The struggle is never beautiful, but I promise you, the stronger and more resilient person you turn into after the battle is a sight worth seeing.

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I had a rough night last night. I did get some silver lining out of it -- laughing with Nica and Laden about a couple memories and f.r.i.e.n.d.s. and then there was Nica texting me if I was okay because everyone was laughing and I was curled up on my bed. Little things.

Anyway, I had a pretty tough night and the bad effects of staying up late are slowly starting to set in. I’ve come to realize that I did go through so many things these past few months and they were horrible things. Horrible things I choose not to talk about much anymore, if anything, I only mostly mention them in passing and last night, they came back to haunt me. I know everyone needs to breakdown every once in a while, but last night was bad and I don’t want to be in this place again anymore but I can still feel last night’s residues. 

My head is slightly pounding as I write this due to lack of sleep combated with excessive crying. Never a good combination. And to add more to that, I need to revise for this big quiz in between work. The universe loves me. Not.

I know that like all other days, this one will only have 24 hours and I’m trying to help myself by thinking of little silver linings but I am so exhausted. All I want to do is curl into a little ball and hide away from the world, but I can’t. The universe demands that I fight even if I have denounced the battle altogether.

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I have lots of friends. Despite that though, I’ve always been wired to fight things on my own until this year happened. I’m on my way to learning the art of letting people truly in and so far, I have been doing good. I’ve been having difficulty letting in those who have left before, but I’m getting there.

Anyway, on the note of friends, I’ve noticed that I keep vaguely alluding being so grateful but I don’t think I’ve ever actually written any concrete adventures we’ve had or little moments. I suppose this post is a compilation of snippets from the top of my head.

Here’s a fresh one -- I couldn’t sleep last night and it was around 12am when my roommates and I heard this noise coming from outside. There were people fighting out on the street. Curious, I got out of bed and went out to the balcony. Our dorm is strategically placed on a street with all of UST’s best bars and sure enough, out there on the street were a group of friends in the middle of a fight. They were throwing bottles and screaming at each other. The apartment right across ours had several balconies and practically half of the place had gone out on their own balconies as well to watch what was ensuing down below. There were even a couple of guys egging them on. It felt like we were in an arena, really. To make things even funnier, before I knew it, three of my roommates materialized next to me and there we were trying to make sense of this mess on our cramped balcony/fire escape. As I have written over time on this little thing, my roommates never fail to brighten up my day. From random conversations at 2am to singing and dancing at the top of our lungs, to random adventures, and a commonality for preferring to eat indoors instead of outdoors, it was like being given sisters upon entering university.

On the note of roommates, one of them (Nica) appalls another of my friends (Shark) and I guess with this post I’ll settle with that story -- Nica and Shark have always butted heads the moment they met.

One night last term, I was all alone and Nica wouldn’t be home until around three more hours. And Shark being the one call away guy he was, got off the bus he was riding and made his way to me. He forced me to eat because I hadn’t all day and rewarded me by letting me have a beer. That night was an embodiment of how my life was some sort of sundance indie film contestant really. We walked around the city streets just trying to alleviate all the sadness and pain I was feeling at the moment. When we were all tired out, we headed back to my dorm and sat out on its steps until Nica came home and the sadness had all subsided because I got too caught up laughing at their animosity towards one another.

Good times.

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a letter i wrote my grandmother the day she died:

“Ba’t mo hahayaan na ganyanin ka niyang tao na yan, ‘yan ba nagpapalamon sa’yo?”

“Sige umiyak ka ngayon pero kung saan ka nadapa, doon ka din tatayo.”

If you’re a friend of mine who’s asked me for advice, I’ve probably given you a pep talk with something in between the lines of the ones above.

Growing up, I had five lolas. And they were all strong and independent women who taught me a good half of all the principles and life hacks I have right now. You could say that our house was (and still is) like some sort of Women’s Union HQ.

The strongest and fiercest of them all was my Lola Nelly and after two decades of having her in my life, one of the days I have been dreading the most for as long as I can remember finally arrived — the day I would have to see a world without her.

My Lola Nelly was a lot of things.

She was a sister, a mother, and a wife, but at the same time, she was her own person. And I think that’s what I admired the most about her. She was married to a well-respected lawyer, but people didn’t just look at her and thought, “Oh that’s Mrs. Barcenas, the attorney’s wife.” She was an elementary school teacher who doubled as a businesswoman and left a mark for herself without any help, and what makes it all the more amazing is that she had nothing to begin with in the first place.

Some days, whenever she’d see me looking sad, Lola would come up to me with a laugh and say “Ako nga nagbenta ng puto diyan sa mga kalye pero tignan mo ako ngayon!” but she never meant or said it in a tone as if my feelings were invalid. Her point was always no matter how bad things may be, life comes around and falls into place. Things get better. But you must learn how to fight back. If you want something, you have to go and make it happen for yourself. No matter the odds, keep going.

I always knew that this day would come but I have come to realize that no matter how much you prepare, you’re never truly ready. I was so excited to come home today, I was going to show her a copy of my first byline on a nationwide publication because Lola was always my biggest supporter. She’d keep copies of my articles from old publications or read my winning essays over and over, she was always proud of me. If there’s anything that pains me the most right now, it’s that she won’t be there when I take the PhilSAT. I knew that her seeing me off to take the Bar was a long shot, so I took comfort in knowing that she’d probably still be here when I take the PhilSAT. That would be enough. But sometimes things don’t work out the way we planned.

Still, I was blessed to have her for nearly two decades. I could go on all night of my favorite memories of her but for this one I guess I’ll settle with that one time I needed to buy some batteries.

I was around five years old and I needed some batteries for this old toy. And since both my mother and my grandmother were businesswomen, I was taught how to save money at an early age so instead of coming up to lola and ask for money, I opted to take some out of my piggy bank. Sadly, this slightly mean lady who manned the store wouldn’t give me the batteries I needed because I lacked one peso (or was it 50 cents? i can’t remember) so I came home empty handed.

Upon seeing that sad look on my face when I got home, Lola asked where the batteries I needed were. I told her what happened and she grinned and out of her old duster’s pocket, she pulled out a thousand peso bill and told me to buy the batteries. I went up to the store, did as I was told, only to aggravate the lady who manned the store.

I was handing her a thousand pesos for something only worth twenty.

I came back home with both the thousand still intact in one hand (the lady told me i could pay next time when i had a smaller bill) and the pack of batteries on the other. I told Lola everything that happened and she laughed and gave me a wink and told me that people were funny sometimes. It wasn’t until I was older had I realized how that was actually proof of how far my Lola had made it for herself. She literally had money just laying around like there in an old duster’s pocket (goals tbh)

It may take some time for me to get used to this but I know I’ll be okay. I know you’re happy where you are. You’re with Lolo, Kuya Gerry, and Kuya Dong now and I know that the days they left were probably the hardest ones you ever had to face. Tell them I miss them (kahit annoying and bully sila sakin). Which ever end of heaven you’re all at right now is probably filled with bickering about politics, talks about law, and business, and inside jokes.

Time to say good night. I love you so much, Lola.

PS

Walang papantay sa adobo, menudo, at asado (lalo na sa asado!!!) mo. Wag ka mag-alala, kakain pa din ako ng malunggay kahit di mo na ako mababantayan.

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Here’s to you, the one that never knew.

When I was younger, I never understood it when people talked about lost loves, loves that could have been but never came to be. I never understood it. Never. Probably because I had always been a firm believer that if two people are meant to be together, then somewhere somehow, they will be together. No matter what the odds. I never understood because I believed that if you want to be with someone, then you’d move mountains to make that happen. You’d do whatever it takes because that’s what love does to a person. They make the impossible somehow possible.

I never understood conflicted emotions either. I always thought that the moment you felt doubt or confusion, then maybe your love towards someone else isn’t real. But I was wrong. With everything.

So here I am writing this letter to you. Here’s to you, to you and me and how we may never be.

I could have loved you. Honestly, there are moments where I think I do but not in the way you covertly want it to be. And it isn’t that way because you never did anything to try and get us there. Maybe that’s partly my fault as well but I’d rather not choose to regret.

We could have been something great, I won’t deny that. But if we truly were for one another, then shouldn’t it have happened already? I guess a part of me still maintains that philosophy I had from innocence.

You were the one who reminded be that I could fly, that I could be anything, and more importantly, I was leaving marks on this world that were distinctly my own. I don’t think I’d ever forget that one afternoon you cried and told me that you hated how the world works sometimes after seeing your mother cry that same afternoon or how you want to be a better friend and brother but always felt like you were falling short.

I don’t ever think I’ll get tired of reminding you of how good you are. The world honestly needs more people like you. You deserve all the love in this earth and I’m sorry that it seems as though I can’t be the one to give you all that. 

I’ve thought of it, I’ll admit that. But it feels like the universe has different plans with us and I’m okay with that. I will always be here as you are for me. Some days, I find myself wondering what ever could have happened if you ever decided to speak out, but I’ve come to realize that wondering what could have been will take me nowhere.

It would be presumptuous to say that we’re in love with one another, but perhaps in an alternative reality, we are. And I’m happy for those versions of us because somehow, they got there. Don’t get me wrong though, I’m happy with this reality too. I’m happy because things always fall strangely into place and us never falling in line with one another just means that things are meant to be the way they are.

I pray that one day, you find the peace and happiness I have now. I hope that it’s everything you had been hoping for and more.

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Yet another day in the office. Just a few more days and I’m free, though. So there’s that for motivation. As of the moment, I am unable to brainstorm for new stories to write today because the senate hearing is distracting me and honestly, it has invoked some things I have been keeping buried. Philippine politics is appalling. I would write a furious blog post about it on my “serious” account, but I couldn’t find it in me. I couldn’t because my uncle was killed almost the same way as this former UPD student and I couldn’t help but tear up when they brought up his case earlier at the Senate.

I may opt to do some school work to kill time until I find inspiration for a new article, but for now I am choosing to blog everything out. Like I said, only a few more hours to go and I can kiss my internship goodbye but this last leg has proven to be exhausting as hell. With my thesis slowly starting to wake up and demand attention and two of my subjects being handled by this one prof who insists on drowning everyone in readings, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to state that I could use around ten years of sleep right now.

I also need to work on this topic proposal for investigative journ class and although the professor was this sort of um... boring professor I had last sem, I’m actually appreciating her current class. Maybe it’s the course itself. But yes, I’m motivated to work harder this time and that is never really a bad thing. Actually, now that I think about it, I may be exhausted a lot these days, but I’m hyped. For everything. I’ve come to love looking forward to little things and celebrating minor victories because really, entertaining negativity does nothing but bring me down.

Maryel is working on our thesis today and although I feel bad that she’s urged me to focus on my internship and that she could handle the demon’s paper this week, I’m grateful I chose her as my partner because well, she’s one of my best friends and I know I can count on her with anything. Besides when this whole internship thing is over, we could finally go on that shoot we’ve been planning for weeks now.

Anyway, I think I should go and at least try and work on that topic proposal I was talking about.

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fall out boy - a little less sixteen candles, a little more touch me