Luck

Tonight. Your night. The best of luck. Goodluck.

GOODLUCK! :)

Unpublished

These photos were for upload a month ago. Then again, some things happened. And so, they remained in my back up drive.

Finally, here they are.

Silence

You are selfish.

You are irrational.

We shouldn't have given much to you.

Speak up! Silence.

Unbelievable! Silence.

Can't you see? My fight is in my silence. I hold the deepest, the harshest, the most unacceptable of my thoughts to myself because I am not strong enough to break that silence - to deliberately pierce through you by my anguished words. I am weak to utter words of disgust, to justify myself and reason with you. I know, all will be just futile. You wouldn't listen anyway.

No matter what you say..I will take them all. I won't argue. You can't force me into saying things. Do you know why? Because, I am holding on to a thread of hope that things will be better if I keep my mouth shut. If I take all the blame, I believe, you might forgive me for whatever reason there is that I should be forgiven for.

You know me, I don't speak when I am so overwhelmed with emotions. So, why bother? You can continuously poke your finger into my forehead and I will just say nothing. Co'z if I do, will you understand me? I don't think so.

Please. I am begging you. Just let me be. This is the way I am. It's not disrespect that I don't answer your scrutinizing questions. I just don't want anything unpleasant slip out of me and aggravate the situation. It's not that I don't hear you. I hear everything. In fact, I remember every single word. They'll forever be nailed on my memory. I just refuse to refute.

Note to My Misery

I’m bored and all I think about is you. I just can’t get you off my mind. And if truth be told, I’m not really sure I want you off it. I am recalling all the times we have spent together, the conflicts, the silent treatments, the angst and all other emotions I have felt in the roller coaster of being us as one in a relationship, our one of a kind of relationship that makes many eyebrows raise.

The times we have spent together are the times I would say happiest and would always want to go back to. As far as I’m concerned, I often have fun when I’m with you. I forget about my troubles. I just want you to be there because your presence makes me feel light. It’s like you are the antidote to all my depression. That’s why you are the first person I call to when I feel like crushed to the ground and crying.

I like it when we act silly and you ride on my nonsensical ideas of fun. I like it when we just sit and talk about endless stuff. I even like it when we walk through the darkness of the evening. It is so soothing for me. It gives me tranquility. And, more than anything, I love it when you share your thoughts. Because, more often than not, you surprise me at how you view things and circumstances. I love the rarity of your ideas and the uniqueness of your perspective. When people ask me to tell them something about you that they wouldn’t know if they’re not closely associated with you, I take pride in those ideas and perspective of yours. I often call you “street-smart” when they ask me to describe you and our conversations. Street-smart because you aren’t the type who reads a lot and still you have this disposition I cannot fully comprehend – in a good way, that is. (So, I guess it’s not just you who’s doing the “sizing-up”.) It is just too bad that these times are not very often.

It’s raining outside. All I can picture is one morning when I’d be sleeping in with you till our eyes give up. It’s going to be one lazy day wherein we won’t take a bath, eat meals in the bed and go on movie marathon. I can see in my mind that on this day, we would also pick out a fight – pillow fight, that is. We’d be messy as can be. We can wrestle, too. And then, I am happy. My day is already bright. How about you? Will this be enough for you? Or will you still go out and find other fun? Because, for me, it is more than enough. I would not want to spend this kind of day in any other way.

The conflicts. I think the presence of these conflicts makes us in a relationship. True, eh? I’ll never get used to the feeling of us fighting. It clouds my judgment. It blinds me. It makes me different. I used to retaliate whenever you do something. But, I got tired of it. It’s still me who gets hurt in the end, anyway. This is where the silent treatment comes in. It’s easier to deal with you when I’m in distance. It’s easier to say yes to everything. I want to avoid arguments. I want to avoid conflicts because they just make my chest heavy. They do me no good. I’m tired of all apologies and promises not kept. I’m tired fighting. I’m tired asking for you. I’m tired being pathetic. I’m tired waiting for your best version. I’m tired patching our differences. I’m tired going the extra mile for you so we could communicate. I’m tired being the man. My pride has to rest, too. It has taken too much blows already.

Right now, my head is teeming with all the conflicts, the shortcomings and all other negativities. Though I have been silent, I am hurt. I am wounded. I am scarred. Everything has piled up and accumulated. And now, all I want is to heal.

You know I don’t want any partition. I want all of you. Or nothing at all.

You know I want you. Only if you want me, too.

You know I’d fight for you. Only, if I am not alone.

You know I’d always be there. Only, if you allow me to.

You know I’d want you to be my future. Only, if only you think about the future.

You know there’s only you in my everything. Who and what’s there besides me?

You just know, right? Knowing is not doing.

On Exes

A friend called me tonight. Worry and concern was evident in her voice as she carefully asked me a series of questions. At first, I was clueless as to where it was heading. Then finally, I unconsciously uttered – Uh-oh. Not again, please.

Persistent exes and the dilemma it brings.

Ex, as the word suggests, means former, what-used-to. It means history. It means over. If you had experienced moving from one apartment or place to another, the lady you used to pay your rent is your ex-landlady. This means you are done with her and you are dealing with a new one. If you had broken a law, charged, convicted and served your time, you are an ex-convict. It means what you were and did is an account of the past. If you used to work as a lawyer and were disbarred because you did something against moral turpitude, then you are an ex-lawyer. This means that you no longer qualify for the profession. However, should a history, a past, a former, an ex becomes persistent, is it still healthy? Is it socially acceptable? To what extent should it be tolerated?

As far as my point of view is concerned, the answer to the questions above is NO.

I do not have anything against exes because I had been one myself. I am an ex-student, an ex-officer, an ex-admirer, an ex-F4 fanatic, an ex-lady-in-waiting (literally), an ex-procrastinator, ex-anime aficionada, ex-debater, ex-teenager… This is where the concept of moving on comes in. I did. It is because the opposite of moving on is getting stuck. It is a sixty year old acting like a kid. It is, in most people’s eyes, unhealthy. It is like a disease. And, the person afflicted with it is most likely demented. As a nurse by profession, I believe health is of utmost importance. Being unable to grow out one stage of your life implies that your health is threatened and compromised.

Exes, being part of the past, deserve the merit of history and recognition. That’s just it – be recognized that one existed once upon a time. To ask for more than that is tantamount to being like Madame Du Bary wanting to become Queen of France, or Calypso wanting to be Penelope, Queen of Ithaca. As one college professor argued, “History does not repeat itself because there is an element of time”. When that time element is lost, it can never be recovered. After all, man is a one-time being. He can never go back to whoever, wherever he was and whatever he had in the past. The least he could have done was to make it worth staying for.

History is, more often than not, written in dusty books which are placed in the forgotten section of a library. It is not published in the morning paper’s front page with photographs taken by the best photojournalists. Old news is old news. It has a place in the newspaper but is certainly not part of current events and the headline news.

Word of advice: Have a sense of self-worth. While persistence may be an admirable trait in some endeavors, it does not necessarily guarantee you of getting back what you were and what you used to have. Sometimes the more you persist means the more you miss.

Reality check: Some things are simply over and it is not coming back. Deal with it. Otherwise, as a song goes, should you keep chasing pavements even if it leads nowhere or would it be a waste even if you knew your place?

PS. I’m not bitter. I’m just sick of it.