Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Every once in a while, I get into these random bouts of depression and sit down with myself, thinking about what's going on in my life.

Today, my aunt told me that my other aunt in Manila is working for Globe Communications, selling SIM cards. Globe is one of the most well known telecommunications company in the country. And then this other aunt of mine said, "That's good. When she's settled, maybe she can help you get a job there."

I know I should be working now. At 20, I'm jobless and I spend every single day inside the house, talking to the same people, watching the same TV programs. Every. Single. Day. I'm miserable at best, and there's nothing I want more at this moment than to have a job so I can at least earn my own money and stop being a burden at home, but there's a catch, I don't want to stay in Manila and live with my aunt's family. They're nice, especially my cousins, but I don't want to feel like a visitor all the time. If I'm to work anywhere, I want to live on my own and hold my time in my hands.

Honestly, I have no idea where my life's headed right now. It's really almost shocking how one single mistake changes one's life forever. I wish I'd studied harder. If I had, maybe I'll be in the US right now with my friends, or in Singapore...Somewhere, anywhere...Moving, working, living. Not stuck in this small town,waiting for my fortune to play out.

Regret, as they say, is a bitter pill to swallow, but I'm sucking it up cause I know it's all my fault. All I need right now is one more chance to push myself to the limits, stand on the edge, feel the wind in my face, and tell myself that finally, I'm free again.

Monday, August 29, 2011


I've been single for so long now, and I don't think that's going to change anytime soon. Being like a prisoner in my own house, there's just no way I'm going to meet someone who'd sweep me off my feet.

Instead, I spend all the time I have watching movies and making black out poetry. I never liked blackout poetry, only because the idea of dashing through someone's work to mold the words into your own preference makes me cringe. But I must admit, it's kinda fun.

Most of the time, just like everyone else, I wish those things in the movies would happen to me. It's so easy to lay on your back, nursing a tub of melting ice cream, wishing you'd happen to be in New York, buying a pair of gloves. It's almost impossible to scribble your name and contact information on a book cover and wait for that other person to somehow find it. If I wasn't such a hopeless romantic, I'd even call it stupidity.

The problem is that I myself believe in fate, and more often than not, I rely too much on it. I tend to forget how subjective destiny can be. Oftentimes, I just shrug my shoulders and say if it's meant to be, it will find its way. This goes to explain my lone status today. I'm not one to settle down and say, "Ah, this is it, finally." Frankly, the man I'm supposed to marry could be standing in front of me right now, and I wouldn't be able to figure it out. If he's good, I'd want him to be better. I never just stop and become contented with the way things are. I always strive for more.

And so I push myself to the limits, grab a pen, write my name on a book, and expect him to find it. In my mind, if he's worth it, he'll be back with it in his hands, no matter how long it takes, no matter the hardships and challenges he has to go through to retrieve it. If he doesn't find it, then it's not meant to be.

I know I have to change my views if I am to be happy. After all, I've come to realize that life's not a movie. You don't get to sit side by side, naming constellations together. No, those things are too good to be true.

Life's harder. Life's life.

Sunday, August 7, 2011

And So I'm Sailing Through The Sea.

Just finished reading the whole Shopaholic series by Sophie Kinsella today,excluding the one entitled Mini Shopaholic. I've yet to have a copy of it.

I feel like I'm being pried further away from my life each day. I'm snappy and I get annoyed easily,and although I know this shouldn't really concern anyone, (my family and myself included), I feel like something's wrong with me...but who can tell?

I want to be skinny. Shamelessly skinny, so I could wear those awfully small but cute shirts they sell in the mall and actually look good for once, not that I have any money to pay for them, of course, but still... I just want to be ok again, so that I'll feel pretty, and my aunt wouldn't have to knock on my door all the time, reminding me to eat. She really does that and it gets on my nerves most of the time, and I don't even bother hiding my annoyance. Because it's annoying.

I think I'm going to be rich someday. If only that day could come sooner than later, then I'll be free to buy whatever I want to buy at the moment. I need some space to breathe. I want people to look at me the way they used to. I used to be beautiful in their eyes. Now, not so much. Because I've gained weight. Because in this society, not being  fatally skinny means being fat.

Seriously,one question. Is this what my children will grow up to when the time comes?

Thursday, August 4, 2011

The Wound. The Scar.

There are times when I'm in the middle of a happy place and suddenly, my heart just starts sinking beneath my chest. Lower, lower and lower till I swear I can feel it at the the very soles of my feet.

I don't know if I'm asking for too much. I grew up living my life with my grandmother, with my aunts, and there are more than enough times when I feel, when I know, when I can tell myself for sure that I can't ask for anything more than that, and that doubtlessly, this is the only life for me.

There are those few rare moments though when my mind wanders in the middle of the night, or at daytime when I spot a couple leading their kid by the hand, when I feel like asking myself, what if?

What if my mother wanted me, just for once? Not to be cruel, there are times when she does like me. I'll even go as far as saying there are times when it seems like she loves me. But then again, do we expect a balloon to hold the air inside forever when we blow it up? No, we don't. We know that at some point, it will have to fly away, or just inflate itself or something out of the blue the next day. It doesn't stay still for anyone, and that's what my mother's feelings for me are like.

Sometimes, it feels as though she regrets ever having me for a daughter. It's one of the toughest feelings in the world, longing for someone's acceptance and feeling like no matter what you do or say, nothing will ever be good enough. You will never be good enough. You start wondering if things would be a lot better if you'd done differently. If you'd listened to her when she asked you to buy a garlic clove when you were five, and not come back with a jar of vinegar instead. You start asking if she'd love you if only you stopped wrapping yourself up in that stupid yellow and purple polka dot blanket, pretending you were a beauty queen, when she asked you to. Maybe you shouldn't have asked that they exchange you and your sister's names, even tough it was impossible, just because you thought hers sounded better. Maybe you should have been more like your sister. If you were, would she like you then?

Too many questions, and all they do is add to the pain. All I can do is cry myself to sleep most nights, a girl of 20, endlessly asking why.