Wednesday, December 19, 2012

XOXO, Gossip Girl.



Finally, after five years of running on TV, CW has put an end to one of my favorite TV series, Gossip Girl. Fun fact, GG is the first US TV series that I watched in perfect order. Followed by my all-time favorite, How I Met Your Mother (which is ending this season, too). 

Since 2007, we have witnessed how a mysterious online writer stalked and, in a way, controlled the lives of the modern royalties of Manhattan's Upper East Side. 

Serena Van der Woodsen and Blaire Waldorf and their friends have been everywhere and they have pretty much all the material things we all could just wish we were born with. But aside from the loud promotion of fashion, wealth, and beauty, there are other exciting things that happened to this bunch of elites and social-climbers.

1. Serena
Went to high school in Constance; was the queen of Constance until she ran off to boarding school without a word to everyone; tried her very best to go to college and dropped out to work; fought with Blaire a hundred times but made up with her always; went into a relationship with Daniel Humphrey, the lonely boy from Brooklyn; broke up with Dan, got back together, then married him in the end; had a lot of other relationships in between, both good and messed up; went away a lot of times and still went back to New York; always the damsel in distress; always turns into the phoenix who always rises from the ashes.

2. Blaire
Instant Queen B of Constance when Serena suddenly disappeared; dated Nate, Chuck, and Dan, but married Chuck in the end; went to NYU then took over Waldorf designs; first marriage was with a royalty from Europe; got pregnant and lost the baby in the accident; almost lost her inheritance; got kidnapped plenty of times; tried so hard to remain on top not knowing that no one could take her throne away from her.

3. Nate
Was in a pretend relationship with Blaire for the longest time until the story about him cheating on Blaire with her best friend leaked from GG; survived complicated family situations; went to school, dropped out of school and started a business; slept with almost all the women with significant roles on GG (Serena, Blaire, Jenny, Vanessa, Juliet, Charlie/Ivy, Lola, Diana, Sage) except Lily and Georgina; betrayed and defended friends; been in jail; the only person who never gave a single tip to Gossip Girl.

4. Chuck
Slept with almost all the women in Manhattan until he became monogamous; deflowered Blaire; fought and reconciled with his best friend; owned a bar and then owned a hotel; lost a father then witnessed him get resurrected; somewhat killed his father for real; got in two vehicular accidents in the course of the series; thought of almost all the best schemes with Blaire; the boy who's been fed with gold when he only asked for parental love; playboy turned one-woman-man.

5. Dan
Started out as the Brooklyn-raised boy who wanted to be accepted in the elite society because he is so deeply in love with Serena; got into wrong relationships; for a while, thought that he was the father of Milo, Gerorgina's son; published two books about Manhattan's elites; gained friends, lost friends, and then gained them back; the lonely boy who ended up marrying his dream girl; the original Gossip Girl.

So all those stories, along with parties, glamorous clothes, sex, and drugs, made GG a pretty messed up show in general. But we all learned to love the dramatic and chaotic life of the Upper East Side too much that we relied on Gossip Girl for the past five years to stay on the loop. It still would've been better if they never revealed who Gossip Girl was. That was supposed to be the one secret she'll never tell.

Thank you for being New York's magazine show and thank you for being Project Runway's drama equivalent. I guess it's time to bid you a fine farewell.

You know we love you.

XOXO, Gossip Girl.
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Photo taken from this page.

Monday, December 17, 2012

What you don't see and what you get

Hundreds of miles settle in between us, but that was never really a problem. A simple text, a short email, or a brief phone call always bridged that gap. We made good use of technology. 

However, what of this moment? What have I to do to fill the emptiness, this cavity? I'm falling deeper and deeper into a black pit and I see no light nor ground ahead. I've been fighting this infinite darkness and the pull of gravity, and I have yet to prevail. 

On the surface and in the shallow, you see my strength and grace. Things seem clear; my waters look calm. But what of the whirlpool of emotions in the depths of me? What of the invisible elements--both great and small--that nibble my very skin or what's left of it? 

My survival? It hasn't been a walk along the shore under the pale moonlight. It hasn't been a stroll along the meadow with the cool breeze gushing through my sundress. It's a sinking ship wrestling helplessly against the wild tides. It's an ongoing barefoot walk along a road of flaming coals.

My heart? It's not similar to that piece of glass being shattered into a million bits and pieces that others commonly describe. It's not even the sting from the stab of a poisonous dagger. No. Far worse. It's a taking of one's own life, a self-sacrifice so rarely done for saving. The great pain of knowing you're very own hands would shoot a bullet through your chest. 

No amount of preparation ever gets a person ready for this. No extensive training could assure one's continued normal existence after a heart broken my oneself.

There is no known cure, but we must endure. 
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Photo taken from this page.

Friday, December 14, 2012

To the Rorouni Kenshin Live Action producers


To the producers of Rurouni Kenshin Live Action, thank you! 

Thank you for not letting this epic anime series get in the hands of Hollywood. Hollywood is great and all, but this is not something they could've pulled off. I mean, look at what they did to Dragon Ball and Street Fighter! I'm not taking anything away from the magnificent job they've done to a lot of movies, like their Marvel movies and Avatar. Those were (still are) great. And Hollywood must stick to those.

Thank you also for not dubbing the movie into different languages. The film is so legit in Jap, like the anime stepped outside my TV set, magically turned into humans, and jumped into the big screen. Cool. 

Who enjoys war, violence, blood, and killing? No one. But I did enjoy this movie. Got nothing else to say about the movie except that it's AWESOME. 

Childhood complete!
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The photo is taken from this site. 

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

What adults can learn from Wreck-It Ralph


Wreck It Ralph may be a kiddie movie but it delivers a lot of underlying messages that we grown-ups can learn from. Here are some of the lessons I picked up from the film:

1. Just because you're the "good guy" doesn't mean you're the hero. This isn't just true in the movies we've seen. Take Lord of the Rings for example. Frodo may be the main character but he definitely wasn't the hero. If it weren't for his friends, the ring would've taken over him entirely. In the same manner, Fix-it Felix wasn't the hero. He didn't save the day. He didn't save the gaming kingdom!

2. Be sure you're ready to face anything if you move to a different world. And I don't mean move from Earth to Mars because that is impossible. I mean changing from one lifestyle, or one location, or one job to another. It won't be the same as the last one you were in. It may give off a similar feel but it is will not be the same. Unless you're ready to face the consequences and challenges of moving, don't.

3. Your imperfections make you beautiful. Penelope was a glitch in the system. She blurs, disappears and reappears like a flickering light. But it made her unique. It made her special. And best of all, it made her the damn best racer in the game!

4. You sometimes have to break things to make way for better opportunities. While in the prison, Fix-it Felix was helpless. Every time he tried to hammer his way out, he ended up fixing the deformities of the cell. It took Ralph's wrecking power to save him. Also, it was Ralph's ability to wreck that gave Penelope her training tracks.

5. Fixing and breaking co-exist. If nothing's broken, there's nothing to fix, and vise versa. There is a way to break anything. But there is also always a way to fix them.

6. Getting the gold isn't always the goal. Sometimes, when you try too hard to win, you wouldn't notice how much damage you've done or how many people you've let down. Wanting to win is a good thing because you're challenging yourself in the process of achieving what you want. But learn where to stop.
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Photo taken from this page.

Friday, November 23, 2012

The Crush


The first boy I have ever liked was my childhood playmate. Looking back at our younger, innocent days makes me feel nostalgic. The memory paints a smile on my lips.

His physical features pretty much broadcasts his half-American descent. Skin, ivory white. Nose, long and pointed. Lips, almost blood red. Cheeks, full and rosy. He was the tall and cute mestizo kid who lived two blocks away from our old house. He was every girl's ultimate first crush material.

The memory of a first crush is a reminder of how simple life used to be. He made me happy because he would always let me decide which game to play or which toy to play with. I liked him because he made me happy. I looked forward to his family's visits over to our house because I liked him. Nothing too complicated, except for the part where I didn't know how to react whenever the older people teased us. I didn't even know that what they were doing was teasing. All I knew was that I would always turn tomato red whenever it happened. Awkward.

My first crush will always have a special place in my heart. He was the first to make me realize that I am capable of feeling certain things toward people. I just didn't know then that when I grew up, I would be this mushy hopeless-romantic piece.
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Photo taken from this page.

Monday, November 19, 2012

LDR Lessons from Going the Distance


Modern technology opens ways to introduce and connect people from distant parts of the world in a fast and efficient way. Just recently, my friend's French boy friend flew here in the Philippines to finally meet her for the first time. It was nice seeing them together but there have been problems. Take language, for example. Online, it's very easy to have their sentences translated by Google, but in person, it was like a different world altogether. One of them had to draw some things to make the other understand. Talk about gap. 

But realistically, just because you both speak the same language does not mean you will always understand each other, like Erin (Drew Barrymore) and Garrett (Justin Long) in the rom-com film, Going the Distance. There are other huge things to consider to make it work: 

1. Accept the distance. Being in a relationship is already a responsibility in itself. Both parties know that some things will get in their way and make things difficult. Adding the "miles factor" does not make things easier. Garrett and Erin knew that they have to shuttle back and from between New York and San Francisco to make their relationship work. They both knew it's physically and emotionally draining. But right off the beginning, whether they were ready for it or not, they accepted it and whatever came with it. That's where the relationship started. Acceptance. 

2. Take only the time you can get. You are in a long distance relationship for a reason. His life is there; yours is here. There are valuable things you both can't let go of from both your places. Meaning, aside your relationship, there are other things that demand your separate attention. The things you're doing may be for your future together but you may have to do those individually. You will be given time, just don't expect too much.

3. Take turns. Just because you're the girl doesn't mean you have to wait for him to visit you. Save money, princess. Plan a trip to his place. Visit his family and friends. Get to know the environment he lives in. Not only will you make him happy, you'll also feel more connected to him. You'll be glad to realize just how much of "you" is inside his room. Plus, isn't it great to know what his favorite cafe looks like?

4. Put your faith in each other. Trust your partner wholly. It can never be just part of your trust. Give it entirely. You both need it. Also, tell each other everything. EVERYTHING. 

5. What you feel, your partner feels. If you miss him, know that he misses you as well. If you want to celebrate her job promotion, know that she wants you to be in her party as well. Whatever it is that you're longing for, your partner longs for as well. It's never a one-way street. It's not only difficult for you. 

6. Don't push things too far. You're already far. There's no need for that. Garrett and Erin broke up not because they no longer love each other. They split up because they couldn't push things too far just yet. Garrett cannot allow Erin to move to New York for him because she may feel happy at first, but when things start to disappoint her, she would start blaming Garrett or their relationship for it. She would calculate and say she sacrificed more to keep them together. It would end, but not in a good way. They decided to give their relationship its best chance. They had to let go for a while.
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Photo taken from this page.

Friday, November 16, 2012

To the Man I Had to Hurt to Make Things Right


I've never mastered the art of writing a sad love letter only because I've never written one. I've heard people started with a simple "Hello," or "I'm sorry." I'm starting mine with one simple, desperate-sounding sentence.

I miss you.

It has not been a week since I broke the strings off but already I want to buy a plane ticket and fly to you and beg you to take me back. That would be weird. As with this letter because I was the one who decided it's best we stopped dating now. You'd think I'm making no sense in saying that or feeling that. But I am. I do. I miss you.

Let me be clear. I do not miss having someone to kiss and hold me when my nights are cold; someone I could talk to whenever I need to grieve or celebrate; someone who would drown in the silence with me as we wrap ourselves around each other; someone who could make me laugh and cry. I do not miss having someone to do those things with. I miss having you to share those moments with.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry for making you feel like I dropped you so easily. I isn't like that. If it were so easy, I wouldn't be writing this letter now and saying things like "I miss you." But like I said during our last phone call, this is the right, the best, and the mature thing to do. We need to make individual adjustments first before we could be together the proper way. Besides, weren't you the one who always said that things are going to get worse before they get better? The best romances require the greatest sacrifices. 

I also want to apologize for every little thing I've done that hurt and disappointed you. I've learned my lesson(s).

I promise.

Even though we decided not to communicate for a while to effectively move past this heartbreaking stage, I promise I would never do anything that I know would hurt you or disappoint you. I've already done enough by managing to break both our hearts. I couldn't stand making more damage than I already did. I also promise to take good care of my health. That has always been one of your primary concerns. I will follow all the doctor's orders.

I hope you take good care of yourself too. I'm sure you're gonna spend a lot of money on drinks and gadgets and food. I just hope you're not gonna end up becoming an obese drunkard with cool gadgets and no money.

I will keep on missing you.

You are still the first thought that greets me in the morning, and the good night image I see before I close my eyes. Just because I've kept traces of you inside a big box doesn't mean nothing's left to remind me of you. We've been together too long I can't seem to recall doing anything without you. It's not a bad thing, really. It even makes me smile a bit. You are still my happy thought. Always have been. Always will be.

I'm feeling a lump in my throat now so I think this is where my letter has to end. Think of me sometimes. When you do, think not about how it ended but how great we were together. Think not about getting stuck in this dark moment but how we'd fall in love again in the future.

I love you still, but today I chose to look past that to allow myself to love you better tomorrow.

Sunday, November 4, 2012

The Meeting

 
For me, this is how it all started.. 

It was one summer night in QC. I was just staying there for a little less than two months. Taking up some units for school, while trying to mend a broken heart. I opened the bathroom door and saw a boy standing right outside, obviously waiting impatiently for his turn to use the loo. It was at an inconvenient time for both of us. He wanted to pee, and I just finished throwing up. As far as I can remember, he asked me if I was okay, and then I apologized for not cleaning up my mess. I remembered him grinning a little bit before saying it's okay and that he'll fix it himself. At that moment, I did not really think about what he thought of me. My mind was wandering off somewhere else. I stared at myself in the mirror, and I cannot remember how long I stayed there. Pretty long maybe, because I was still there when the guy got out of the bathroom. Again, he asked if I was okay. I wasn't. I was heartbroken, and I was pissed off because I was with my sister and her (then) boyfriend. Seeing them swoon over each other was like adding salt to the wound. And I was drunk. 

I wasn't thinking straight so I didn't know that this is what happened next (he filled it in for me): I asked him if he could pretend to be someone I know and just act as if he's listening. That's how we met each other. That's the first time I saw him my entire life. But it wasn't his first time seeing me. That.. That is his side of the story. 

Up until now, I do not understand how a crazy, unconventional way of meeting someone could lead to a love for keeps. Most of our progress developed because of his sweet sweet efforts. He made me believe in a lot of things again. Hope. Life. Faith. And love. I was a zombie when he met me. But he gave me a heart again.

Now, we're on our journey to a lifetime. It's not an easy road though. We're miles apart; we only see each other at least three times a year; I'm working while he's studying; we're both setting our spiritual lives straight; we both have ambitions; we both have different life goals. Trust me, there are still a lot of adjusting and fixing to do, but both of us are more than willing to go through it together. I admit, it is difficult to not have him with me when I want to share a good laugh, or when I feel like kissing someone after watching a lovely film, or when I want to just stare at the beautiful night sky while being wrapped up around a warm embrace. It's also sad that I can't happily jump around and celebrate my achievements with him all the time. But as they say, patience pays off. 

I've never been fond of waiting. But what we have, this love, is more than enough to motivate me to do better and be more patient about things. If this is a race, and if the prize is having him for the rest of my life, I'd run along and follow the track. And I'll make sure I'll win.

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From my previous blog. Edited. Photo taken from this page. 

Saturday, October 27, 2012

5 Relationship Reminders from Ruby Sparks


Ruby Sparks is a romantic fantasy film about a writer struggling to create another phenomenal book to follow his first big literary break. His first book was a masterpiece of his very active imagination. In his great attempt to awaken his strong imagination, the fictional character in the book he's writing has miraculously come to life. Pretty cool to sleep single and wake up finding a hot red-head cooking in your kitchen in her underwear. 

On initial call, it would probably look like just another love story with a twist inspired from the 2006 drama-fantasy film, Stranger Than Fiction. Upon closer look, however, there are a lot of hidden relationship advice we can unearth in this movie that aren't usually found in regular chick flicks. 

Here are 5 lessons I've learned from the movie:

1. Being clingy is creepy. Remember when Ruby cried when Calvin let go of her hand because he needed to take a call? Of course, that was an exaggerated way to depict being clingy but it sent the message clear. By holding on to a person too tight, you keep them from breathing. You lock them up in a possessive shell where you leave them to choke.

2. It's not normal to ask your partner to be happy always. Again, in the movie, it was all a bit too much when Ruby was bouncing around with a retarded smile on her face for weeks. True, you want to be in a healthy relationship with a happy person, but you can never escape the fact that every person is entitled to feel things. Your partner will be sad, angry, stressed, happy, excited, and all that. Those emotions will keep you and your partner humans.

3. Being a control freak is a recipe for disaster. Well, you are not a remote control and your partner is not a television set. You and your partner may share a romantic bubble when you're alone but you both have separate lives. Until your partner realizes that he/she is acting like a soldier following your every order, your commander-in-chief days are over. 

4. Obsession is never healthy. In one of their most sensible songs, Spice Girls warned us that "too much of something is bad." It keeps you and your partner from socializing and meeting new people. Your partner is not the only person in the world you can talk to, you know? If you don't have friends, you can pay a shrink to listen to you just like what Calvin did in the movie. There's always an option. Letting your life revolve around one person stops you from living. 

5. You can't be in a relationship with yourself. Logically, Calvin was having a relationship with himself because Ruby Sparks was a product of his imagination; his brainchild. No matter how much you try to fix yourself, there will always be fragments of you that even can't be change. We're all imperfect. Live with it. And if your partner can't embrace you and your flaws, then it's time to call quits. 
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Photo taken from this page.

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

On Losing a Best Friend


He was the only person you depended on during high school. You would never have made it out of that dreaded place if it weren't for his help. He was your teenage hero, your confidante. When the entire world judged you, he defended you. When you were chained down by depression and shame, he freed you. While other people offered their friendships in exchange for something, he lent his shoulders and arms for free.

All of those are suddenly nowhere to be found. You haven't noticed that it has been more than a year since you last saw each other. You suddenly realized how things fell apart from that point forward. During that last face-to-face conversation, he told you his stupid decision of staying away because his stupid-excuse-of-a-girlfriend asked him to. That moment, all you wanted was to grab his hand and tell him to snap out of it. But you didn't. Instead, you gave him his freedom and prayed that one day he'll wake up from that trans. You hoped he'd realize the value of your friendship and that he'd come back. You know that after making and tolerating mistakes, if he comes back, you would welcome him with an open heart. You know that after hurting and getting hurt, if he comes back, you will help him recover from the bruises and not judge him for whatever had happened. You know that despite everything, if he comes back, he will still have you. 

Recently, you see him only in your dreams and you're thankful that at least in your head, nothing has changed between you two. Though it has been more than a year since you last saw him and talked to him over the phone, it does not change the fact that you are still hoping. You do not have the slightest idea as to how he's doing right now but it does not mean you've never asked or you do not care anymore. Because if he only knew how much you've missed him, you know he'd regret ever leaving.

Right now, you are scared: scared of the possibility that you're the only one hoping to patch things up; afraid you're the only one who wants back in to the friendship; fear you might be disillusioned that while he is completely satisfied with his life without you, you're still waiting in uncertainty. These thoughts are the acids that eat away your faith of him ever coming back. But you promised. You vowed you'd wait and trust that he'll come back. So you wait.

As you tread on to different paths, you could only focus on the good memories and the lessons you've learned from him while looking forward to meeting him at the crossroads. Though it's difficult to admit, part of you is actually hoping that he found love in the arms of that despicable woman. Otherwise, most of these would've gone to waste. It surprised you at first but after thinking clearly, you're not mad. You will never have the heart to get angry at him. 

You were not supposed to write about this but your spontaneity betrays you. And as you've finally decided just drop it for now, it rained. And oh, the rain. It takes you back to high school. 
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Some lines taken from my previous blog.

Shoti and the Bazooka



I've always been proud of my family. Despite the lack of financial stability, our parents made sure they instilled in us every essential thing a moral person should have. What happened a couple of months ago was just another proof that we were raised well.

My brother was alone in their classroom. I think he stayed there for a couple of minutes to wait for someone. When he was about to leave, he saw a camera set left in one corner. He didn't exactly remember what model it was, but he described it as one of those cameras we call bazookaWhenever my brother and I saw a photographer using tall lenses, we used to joke around and say it's actually a terrorist with a bazooka, ready to shoot his target with one simple click. 

That's the kind of camera he saw. At that very moment, he thought of taking it to the pawnshop. He knows that the value of a camera like that can help out with the family's finances. He thought of the temporary comfort it would give all of us. It could take care of the groceries and his allowance for a couple of months. He thought it would be a breather for our eldest sister for a while since she has been giving a lot of her salary to the family that time. He even thought of buying his own laptop because the one he was using is third-hand. And really, it's the slowest device.

My brother's heart battled with his conscience. He's well aware that our family is not doing so well financially. He's the only one left studying in our family, and he knows his education (at that time) was a bit too costly. We only agreed to send him there because it's a good university and we all believe in quality education. We want to give him his best chance no matter what it takes. He's been meaning to help all of us out. However, he knows that taking something that's not his, expensive or not, is not the Christian thing to do.

Along with the camera, he saw a wedding invitation and a bus ticket from and to the province. He thought that maybe the owner was from the province. Maybe the parents of the owner worked so hard to get this for his child. My brother said he thought of me; that if I left my camera somewhere and lost it, he knew how disappointed our father would be. My camera was a gift because I achieved something from school, but even though papa always says I deserve it, we all know it cost the family. Shoti knew how the owner and the owner's family would feel if the camera was taken.

Of course, my brother's morals won. He took it and told his friends about it.  His friends joked around and said they should take it to the pawnshop and split the money among them (crazy kids). Not long after that, he saw a girl running around the hallway, crying like hell, searching the room for something. My brother knew he found the owner. He approached the girl and asked her what she's so upset about. The girl managed to mumble and say she forgot her camera but she wasn't sure where she left it. My brother could tell that she was desperately looking for it and that it was very valuable to her. Shoti told her that he found it, and the delight in her teary-eyes just warmed my brother's heart. 

The girl was so happy that shoti was a good enough person not to think of keeping something that's not his. She offered to give my brother a certain amount of money but he refused. She insisted, but he still refused. He said the only thing that he wanted was to find the owner and return the camera. I could only imagine the gratitude in the girl's heart.

My brother is the kind of boy who hangs out with his friends after school and goes home maybe an hour or two after their dismissal. That afternoon, my brother felt so uncomfortable that he went home early. He couldn't explain his emotions but he knew he had to go home...fast. 

When he got home, he startled my mother as he fell into tears the moment he stepped inside. He told her what happened and explained the helplessness he felt; how bad he felt for being tempted to sell it; how bad he felt that he couldn't help the family just yet; how bad he felt when he thought about how hard it would be if our family lost something valuable. Mama was moved to tears as she felt my brother's pain. More than that, she cried because right then, she was proud to see what kind of heart her son has. Innocent. Pure. Brave.

My sister told me this story right after my first job interview. Hearing that was just another good motivation for me to do good in whatever I do and to never disappoint my family. There have been many sacrifices along the way, but knowing that the people I'm doing it for are the ones I love most, it's all worth it.

As for my brother, I think it's so cool of him to avoid the blow of that bazooka. That's pretty awesome.
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From my previous blog. Edited. Photo taken from this page. 

Monday, October 22, 2012

Life of a P.U.A


Admit it. When you know the ins and outs of the game, you're a pro. Free drinks, free food, I'll-drive-you-home offers. Things often go your way. The best part: constant supply of ego-boosters. But really, being a pick-up artist is not what you want to be forever. The satisfaction from it is surface level. There happens to be no permanent sense of fulfillment. And the feeling gets worse the better you get at it. Two main reasons. If you're naturally a bad person, you eventually get bored. But, if you have a good heart, you'll eventually realize that leading people on or using them for your shallow intentions is not worth the bad rep you've made/you'll make for yourself. It's fun while you're at the peak, but soon as you outgrow it, everything goes downhill. You'll soon see how much time you've wasted on something that might ruin other people's hope on love and on something that gives you no lasting pleasure. And worst of all, you will soon see other people settling and growing with their true loves while you are stuck in your own world called selfishness. Breaking news: No one wants to be a part of another person's selfish world because individually, we all have our selfishness to take care of. 

Admit it. You don't really want this. But if you want to try it, then by all means, waste no more time and just do it. Just don't be surprised when you'll have nothing to say for yourself by the end of it all. Just saying.
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From my previous blog. Photo taken from this page. 

Morning Get-Away



Everything around her was a blur as she was walking briskly, almost sprinting, to catch the next train. She’s not the type who glides through that pool of hustling office goers and students during rush hour. But what happened that morning made her feel like she had no choice but to storm out of their apartment as quickly as she could.

By force of habit, her feet led her to the station. The smell of newly cooked juicy hotdogs welcomed her and got her stomach grumbling. She realized she left before she even touched her food. A small change from the day before was still in her jacket pocket but it wasn’t enough to last her the day. That much could only get her breakfast or buy her a roundtrip train ticket. If only her purse was on the table near the door, she could have snatched it on her way out. But she might have left it on the couch, or on top of the TV, or on the kitchen counter. She wasn’t sure anymore. Thinking too much made her head ache.

The sudden rush of emotions and frustrations made her want to just cry. She was about to but self-inflicted public humiliation was the last thing she needed then. She forcefully swallowed the forming tears back in. It was but a brave attempt of containment that only lasted until she saw, from among the busy crowd, a face she knew so well she couldn’t forget it even if she tried. It came dashing to her direction, carrying her purse and a brown bag.
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From my previous blog. Photo taken from this page.

Sunday, October 21, 2012

A Bowl of Soup


The man almost stormed out of the house when I started saying hurtful words. I almost went out for the night  just so I wouldn't have to stay with the man under one roof. The man almost hit me. I almost spat at the man's face. We looked at each other with angry eyes. The woman and the boy begged for us to stop. It was two o'clock in the morning. Only our angry screams echoed in the neighborhood.

It was like a battle. Neither side wanted to accept defeat. It ended with the man subconsciously seeking comfort, and found it in the gentle arms of the woman; while I locked myself up in the dark, grateful of the boy for being the strong knight.

There was calmness after the war. Every wounded soldier fell in silent recovery.

It's true, what they say. There's always a rainbow after the storm. Every cloud has a silver lining.

Peace came through silence, not between the noise.

...

The man prepared warm soup for me. We both still have not said much to each other. There are figurative bruises in both our faces, but there is not a trace of hate in our hearts. That's what the love of a family does.

A bowl of soup to warm the hearts that turned cold. Always been the best way to throw in the towel.
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From my previous blog. Edited. Photo taken from this page.

Confusing Fairy Tales with Reality



The story ENDS when the prince wakes the princess up with a kiss. This did not happen in his reality. His fairy tale day started when he kissed his princess and woke her up from her sleep. It ended when she told  him not to be sad that she already has another prince she truly loves; then follows this statement up with a bittersweet embrace that lasted only an eternal second long.

The story ENDS when the princess succeeds in making the prince realize that the new woman he's with is not the mermaid he was supposed to catch. This did not happen in her reality. In truth, the prince is not interested in catching just one fish. She was not the princess. She's just a pretty puny fish placed among all those other elegant gilled-creatures in his aquarium.

The story ENDS when the princess marries her prince - her first and only love. This did not happen in her reality. She thought that her relationship with this guy was already pretty long and was strong enough to weather any storm. Little did she know that a relationship's strength does not entirely depend on the length of time they've been a couple. The miles did not only create distance. It created gap.

The story ENDS when the prince busts the door open at the last minute and saves the princess from hopelessness. This did not happen in her reality. Standing by the door every single day became a part of her daily activity. Hope drives her to think that any day might be the day of her prince's arrival. It got her collecting patience in an imaginary jar made of imaginary tears.

Fairy-tales are placed under fictional stories for a reason.

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From my previous blog. Edited. Photo taken from this page.

Thursday, October 18, 2012

Number One Man


For the past few years, I've been having countless arguments with my father. We argued about almost everything. It started when I chose to shift to another degree program. That really pissed him off. I used to be really close to him, but through the years, I just somewhat lost my connection with him... Until last night...
I was having a difficult time breathing. I'm asthmatic, but I didn't really know what triggered last night's attack. The doctors said it must have the seafood I ate at dinner. We just could not pinpoint which one. I ate shrimps, crabs, octopus, fish, and all. See, I have never been allergic to seafood, until yesterday. My air passage was blocked. It felt a little sore.

It was raining cats and dogs. Papa's schedule for this morning was set. He had to wake up early for a wedding. The bride and groom kinda rented our ride to make it the bridal car. He volunteered to help set the car up. It was a little pass 10 when I had an attack, and papa had no choice but to change and drive me to the nearest hospital. At first, he was really annoyed because I had to drag him out of bed. He mumbled things and even asked if I got drunk this week. But when he saw me get really pale, he started panicking. He quickly grabbed the keys, his cap, and me.

The moment the engine roared, he asked me if I was okay. I wasn't. But I could feel him getting tensed, so I forced myself to talk and told him to drive safely. The road was really wet and the rain was pouring heavily. I was on the passenger's seat, struggling to breathe, and he was beside me, cursing the drivers as if they can hear him. He kept checking on me, saying my name in with a question mark in his tone, making sure that I did not pass out, saying three words over and over and over every time I responded.

"Hang in there"

I do not remember how many times he said it, but I choked back tears every single time he did. I didn't want to cry. But more than that, I knew that if I gave way to my tears, he would worry even more. I couldn't bear that.

I was almost blacking out when we stepped into the emergency room of the hospital. We've been through that exact same situation hundreds of times already, but for the past years, he would force me to talk and tell the doctors my pain. Last night, however, was different. He did not let me talk. He explained everything to the medical people as quickly as he could, and then, they did what they had to do.

Took my weight, let me lie down in bed. Took my blood pressure, measured my temperature, and calculated my pulse rate. There were like two nurses assisting me the doctor. A tube was placed in my nostrils for the oxygen, and a bigger tube in my mouth for the nebulizer. While I was trying real hard to breathe properly with the help of those apparatus, they injected me with an anti-allergy shot, that would help my body not turn even more red than it already was last night and so my air passage could relax and open again.

My world started to spin around (effect of the medicine injected). I looked around and I saw my father just looking at me from a short distance. I noticed he didn't have time to bring his jacket with him. He just wore a cap. I could tell that his body was feeling a bit cold but I could also sense that all his thoughts were directed to me. Seeing him like that, I wanted to get better right away. He looked really worried.

When the doctor stepped away from my bed, she talked to my dad and gave him a list of medicines I have to take for a couple of days. He listened intently and asked a few questions along the conversation.
I was feeling really high and my eyes were heavy when he walked toward my bed, leaned to my ear, and whispered that he'll be back. He just needed to buy the medicines prescribed for me. I seriously couldn't feel my entire body but at least I managed a light nod. He squeezed my hand lightly before he left. That squeeze, I felt.

I dozed off in bed for a few hours then the nurse woke me up. I needed to nebulize again. The moment I opened my eyes, I saw my father resting his head on the right side of my bed, a few inches away from my right hand, like the typical hospital scenes you see in the movies. I smiled. He woke up with bed marks on his slightly wrinkled face and directly stood up as the nurse placed that tube in my mouth again. The effect of the medicine was still kicking in and so I dropped like three times while puffing. Papa had to slap my face lightly every time that happened because it would be such a waste of medicine if I don't take in most of it. The doctor made me sleep for a couple more hours and then decided that I could be an out-patient for the night, which relieved my father.

On our way home, he put the seat belt around me before driving. It was the first time he did that. I slept again along the way.

When we got home, he led me to my room, made me drink that tablet as instructed by the doctor, and told me to just rest so the medicine could have its full effect. He said he'll clean the car so it would look clean for the wedding in the morning. The wedding, I forgot about that. 

After a little while, I felt my father slide beside me in bed and said he'll look after me for the night. It was just like how he took care of me when I was little. Once again, I felt like I was 5. He didn't kiss my forehead like he used to though, and he did not hug me the way he did when I was a little girl. But he did make me feel taken care of and loved. I didn't see the father I had yelling matches with the other night. I saw the father I thought I lost.

He made me realize last night that just because I grew up doesn't mean I'm not his little girl anymore. I still am. And just because we had countless fights doesn't mean he's not my number one man anymore. He still is. Always and forever.

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From my previous blog. Edited.

If I Said YES to Every "HIM"

If I said yes to just about every "him", right now I probably would have been...
... the girlfriend of a lead guitarist
... a lead guitarist of a band
... the girlfriend of a DJ who's actually a closet singer
... the girlfriend of a poet/ bass guitarist
... a smoker
... the girlfriend of a punk turned rapper
... the girlfriend of an unemployed playboy
... the girlfriend of just another jerk
... the girlfriend or a booty-call of a dancer from an internationally known dance crew
... the second wife of a drunkard
... the first wife of a 40-year old
... just a wife
... my best friend's girlfriend
... a compulsive liar's girlfriend
... a model's girlfriend
... married next year
... pregnant (if not a mother yet)
... a saint
... dead
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From my previous blog. Edited. Photo taken from this page.

Sunday, October 14, 2012

The Kiss


I remember it clearly. Vivid and in full color. The room I shared with two other girl friends was in a chaotic after-party condition.

I remember a stock of unwashed dishes cluttered in the kitchen sink. It was not many, but it was not tidy. I remember spotting a shot glass and an empty bottle of tall rum on top of our plastic, and only, table. They stood there idly among the pile of study materials, somewhat out-of-place. We haven't swept the floor because my roommates and I woke up late that morning and we all had to rush to our classes with no breakfast and terrible headaches.

To my unnecessary defense, I had just changed my sheets that time, though they didn't look new because they got crumpled inside my jungle of a closet. So no, our room was not always the "girls' room" type but who cares? I have had some of the best memories of my early years in college kept safe inside the four corners of that room. One in particular, was my first kiss.

I remember it clearly. Vivid and in full color. The room I shared with two other girl friends was in a chaotic after-party condition.

But no disorder could break through the bittersweet melancholic calmness that wrapped around the two souls who were left alone in the room. There was a radiating feeling of hope and violated expectations... of love and of heartbreak. I stood inches away from him, feet rooted on the ground and head bowed down in helpless sobbing. He stood inches away from me, feet rooted on the ground and head raised up to keep the tears from flowing. It must have been the dead air that gave him the courage to take a step closer...and then another until we were only a breath away. It must have been the way he felt about the poor look on my face that made him pull my chin up so that I meet his stare. That moment, I was not sure about anything. My vision was too misty for sight.

But I can say for certain that it was my heart that made me close my eyes when I felt his lips on mine. Even more sure that it was my hopeless-romanticism that made me ask for one more after we pulled apart.
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Photo taken from this page.

Stay Still or Run Away


I believe in a lot of things; a few are floating along my brain like fine cotton in the field. 

The miracles. Breaking the high jump record by a centimeter. Landing that one position which thousands have applied for. Feeling her soft lips pressed against yours for the very first time.

The second chances. Going for another jump to keep you in the game. Finding another job that's better suitable for you. Making up for the hesitant first kiss.

The callings. Being a high jumper. Becoming a manager. Winning her heart.

There's one thing I believe in, however, that I find most stiff and uncontrollable. It minds not my convenience nor yours. It is partial to no one and it pardons no one. It comes when it must. It unties the pretzeled knots to set matters straight. It usually takes a determined heart and good timing to cope up with this. If it were a person, it would be a head of an empire who gets what he desires at a whim and does what he wants without inhibition.

I have summarized the possible outcomes in four (not-so-well-though-of) equations:

     Equation 1: Strong heart + Good timing = Best results
     Equation 2: Weak heart + Bad timing = Worst results
     Equation 3: Weak heart + Good timing = Pleasant results
     Equation 4: Strong heart + Bad timing = Painful results

Among all the things I believe in, including the ones I have chosen not to mention, this is the one I have the most uncertain feelings for. I look forward to it and I try to escape from it. I love and hate it only because it is what it is. The inevitable.