If it were up to me to make whatever I want of my day, it would be like this:
I'll wake up around 8 in the morning, lounge around my room; watch TV. I'll take a shower and leave the house. Probably I'll meet up with one of my most favorite person, L...and the love of my life, A. Drink coffee...the strongest kind. We will have intellectually stimulating conversations on nothing really specific...then go shoot with our cameras. Have lunch. Then go to the movies...after that, do nothing at all...read, write, draw, think...whichever suits your fancy. Then have dinner...then who knows...whatever.
But today is:
Woke up 5 in the morning, took a shower, drove my brother to school, drove mom to work, went to work...IN at 6:57 AM. Sat around checked my Facebook account; played Farmville for a while. Drank coffee, ate bread. Today's itinerary is:
1. Evaluation Matrix of Office Furniture 2. Documentations and Certifications 3. Requisition Purchases After this, I'll have to go pick my brother up, go home and wait for Adam's call. Then read a bit and sleep.
If I were the God of today.... I could do what I wanted. But I'm only me, that's my limitation. I have to BREATHE IN and BREATHE OUT. I can't keep on hating the world, as it hates me already.
I have always been the fat kid. Never attractive, zero appeal. I grew up like this. It never used to matter until I learned of the opposite sex. That what they wanted were the goddesses on TV, not the normal people walking on earth. But most of those who chase goddesses often fail, for they are human too...so they find something close to perfection. And I was far from that. So due to the influence of media goddesses, I had the drive not to be one, but be close to one. Then came the cruel years of self-deprivation, self-pity...and never has any of it been enough. I thought this was what I wanted, the daily battle in my head...to change. I was never satisfied...I thought I was looking great...I didn't know when enough was enough. Now, I'm just an ugly heap of flesh and bones.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Cry. I never used to cry a lot. Whatever bad feeling, I put it in a box, mark it and save it for later. I could do this easily because I've denied myself happiness...my own WRONG theory is this: I refuse to be happy because I could lose everything, if I'm unhappy all the time I won't have to lose anything...and I thought this makes everything easier...I'm dead wrong. I end up hurting the special people in my life. It never crossed my mind that holding back gives them the impression that everything they do for me is never enough...though I always say it is.
Just last night I had another crying spree. And this is new:
"Hindi ka na bata, kung may problema wag mong itago, sabihin mo. Pag-usapan natin."
I was never the talker, maybe this is the reason why I harbor so much negativity, because there is no outlet....it doesn't come out and it gets condensed. It took me a long time to accept that my theory is not correct. Just not..and it will never be.
It's a great comfort to have someone who tries and gives everything just to help me out, because my neuro-synapses just don't work well. Someone who tells me frankly that I am not always right, and that its okay to make mistakes...that the important thing is that we learn from those mistakes.
But last night, I think I failed again. And I fail most of the time. I don't want to quit trying though, because the world would be such a waste.
This morning I felt so stupid trying to learn about using off-cam flash. I have never used any type of flash in my life. Only natural light. I get the concept, yeah....but not really how it works. Because what I get looks artificial, unlike those pros who get something impressive. Well, who am I to complain, I'm no pro...hehe. I feel so lazy today, and I'm not okay so probably this post would be good for nothing.
Today I bought a book on illustration. I haven't really drawn anything for years, and it seems as if my hand forgot how to make pictures. So I'll try to work on this a bit more....got to use that sketchbook from Boston. I also bought something for Adam, not because I feel bad for screwing up last night, I just want to give him something today, which he will receive tomorrow.
11:00 AM- I pretend to work, but actually play Farmville; you sleep.
12:00 NN- I am left at my desk eating alone; you sleep.
1:00 PM- I pretend to work, while I read Sandman (current literary companion); you still sleep (though this varies).
2:00 PM- I work a bit, but I browse the net more; around this time you wake up.
3:00 PM- I do nothing, sit around waiting for 4:30. Usually you read, or do errands, whatever.
4:00 PM- around this time I begin to miss you more than I already do because I know I’m going home by myself, but it’s okay; You used to go pick me up and bring me home, but I guess this week it will only happen tomorrow.
5:00 PM- We wait for my brother, and go home.
6:00 PM- We either watch nonsense on TV, or browse the net for a while. We play with Yuki.
7:00 PM- We do much the same as we did 6:00.
8:00 PM- We eat.
9:00 PM- You go to work, I take a bath then wait for you to call.
10:00 PM- You call me to tell me you’re at the office, I wait for your next call.
11:00 PM- We talk on the phone.
12:00 MN- We Sleep.
1:00 AM- If I’m not asleep, I try to; you say you sleep but I don’t know if you’re working on something at the office.
2:00 AM- If I’m not asleep, I try to; you say you sleep but I don’t know if you’re working on something at the office.
3:00 AM- If I’m not asleep, I try to; you say you sleep but I don’t know if you’re working on something at the office.
4:00 AM- If I’m not asleep, I try to; you say you sleep but I don’t know if you’re working on something at the office.
5:00 AM- I wake up and take a bath, probably at this time you’re working.
Note: There are more You’s and I’s in my day. I look forward to the day that there would be a 23:1 ratio of WE’s to I’s and You’s.When we first started, there were more WE’s, but that doesn’t really matter because I know he loves me more each day. I know this not because he tells me, I just feel it.
So there’s a high probability that this Christmas will be a happy one. No, I take it back, it’s not just a HIGH PROBABILITY…I am absolutely sure that it will be. Not just because Christmas has always been my favorite time of the year; now I have someone to share it with. Ayos no?
For the past few days, me and Lora have been talking (…I haven’t seen her since our UP day off…when I was so used to seeing her almost every day). Lora and I have been talking about issues concerning self-worth. It has been a sick cycle ever since we met. We are very different, yet so much alike…this is one reason why I talk to her about the crap going on in my head. She gets it. So we were talking….and she showed me this blog by someone she knows. The entries were so direct that it tinted me green with envy. I prefer it if I could tell the world everything inside my head and not be judged. Though I know not a lot read this, probably no one even does, but still I couldn’t bring myself to write in such a manner that bares my soul. In example, I write some truth about myself or the things I do, with the way I was raised I’d be going straight to hell—well not literally, I might just lose shelter. Subsequently it’s like I’m living a double life, in a way. The me at home is still me, yet the other half of myself conceals itself in laughter and obedience. I’m 25 yet I deny most things to save my family from damages. I am mostly myself outside, and really me with certain people.I want to change this, I need LIBERTY. Two days ago we made a pact, if ever there is an ONLINE PINKY SWEAR, to just let go and be who we are. Now, it’s as if the pact never happened. Hahahaha. Back to dear old insecurities. Adam knows this about me, and he’s helped a lot, showing me my worth….not just as his significant other, but as a whole. And it is such a comfort to me. I try my hardest, if not the best. And I’ll get there, somehow. I told Lora this:
“Edi magsulat nalang tayo ng kahit anong gusto natin!”
I asked Adam this a few months back, if it is okay for me to still continue to write and post stuff that I like…..he said, YOU CAN POST ANYTHING YOU WANT, with a smile. I hope he means it, not just because it is the answer he thinks I want.
It took me 2 hours to finish my PAN-ROASTED PORK LOIN ON ITALIAN COUNTRY BREAD sandwich!!! I’m reading about photography again! It’s remarkable that Adam and I share an interest in Photography. When we met, I didn’t know. So it’s something we have in common, but we each have our own approach. It’s something I share with Lora too. The thing is it has to have passion, I know I shouldn’t meddle with other people’s affairs but it irks me to see some who claim to love photography yet what they only have are fine cameras. I won’t elaborate on this.
INTERMISSION: Another thing, I want to smoke. But as Adam and I have discussed, I could only do this when he’s with me—due to health reasons. So, there, I won’t…just wanted to let it out before I lose it.
Before I stop all this bullcrap, here are some pictures I found from our Boston trip:
Appreciating art at the Museaum of Fine Arts. Where they compressed 4 years of my college education!
I guess it’s really me. Everything that goes wrong, it’s me. Since I was a child….it’s me. I wish I could defend myself, but I won’t. Because this time, it really is me. And it hurts, so much more every time that it is me. It’s just automatic. There is no ON/OFF switch in my dumb head. I refuse to believe that my brain went haywire somewhere along the way. I always ask myself: why so much self-loathing? Self-pity?
And I still don’t have an exact answer—though I have fragments of ideas. But this has to end now, because I’m starting to inflict pain towards other people, not just myself. To someone I love.
To love. In one of my favorite movies, there is a line that pulls at my heart—it never fails to on all occasions that I watch it. “The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love, and be loved in return,”.
Well enough, I know myself well enough. And I know how much I can give and it’s boundless. I won’t hold back, not because I was told to….but because it is right; not because I have to…but because I want to.
There's no combination of words I could put on the back of a postcard No song I could sing But I can try for your heart Our dreams, and they are made out of real things Like a, shoebox of photographs With sepiatone loving Love is the answer, At least for most of the questions in my heart Like why are we here? and where do we go? And how come it's so hard? It's not always easy and Sometimes life can be deceiving I'll tell you one thing its always better when we're together
I haven't written anything for a long time. I haven't made any pictures for a long time....I am quite distracted with life right now. See....speechless.....wordless.... nothing to write. But things only got better for me. Someone taught me how to live.
On Dire Demand for Truth (An Infinite Incongruous Feat)
Time does not give me the answer, nor does it induce me with the least of comforts. Often times I am inebriated with lugubrious retrospection on the “what ifs” and “maybes”. During these periods of dejection, I feign ignorance on my state of dissolution. Cracks on my ceiling do not speak words of erudition; the night light does not register melodramatic resolutions to the illogical disputes in my head. The abrupt changes on the weather patterns of events lead me to conclude that the “id” is presently extinct. Gradual regression of desires and avidity prevail. In an attempt to decrypt the negative circumstances that had occurred, intensive scrutiny is applied to viewing the past few months of my existence—which I wish was in a fashionable “erase and rewind” condition.
I mistook my present condition with insomnia, defined by Mr. Webster as: "n. the chronic inability to sleep". Realizing that I am capable of feeling drowsiness, I dismissed this rather bovine notion and mused over other embryonic vindications. There are scarcely any other reasons for my lack of gusto to put my mind and body in a state of repose, only that feeling of uneasiness which causes my heart to dance to a faster beat, my pupils to dilate, or my skin to feel arctic-- this I recognize is FEAR.
Of what?
That circumstance when an individual is unaware and unable to manipulate his own mind, causing myriad concepts to manifest from the subconscious. Put simply--dreams. On rare occasions, majority of the human species experience kafkaesque delusions. In my case, it happens as often as the sun rises. And it is far from dreaming of monstrous entities or other creatures not of this world, but of people who torment me physically, mentally, and emotionally.
But my phobia of sleep escalates not during the act itself; but upon waking up, when it dawns on me-- I AM ALONE.
Then comes my qualms of credence. I question my faith over and over, like a broken record. yet, even if my doubts seem to dominate, there remains that small percentage of my faith holding on (picture a candle in the middle of a dark room).
"All along I've been searching for my Lenore in the words of Mr. Edgar Allan Poe. Now I'm sober and 'Nevermore'....."
-Kremlin Dusk
Tick toc, tick toc...I can hear the clock. Every second counts; I breathe as if it were my last. Tick toc, tick toc.......
I put the music on as loud as I can to drown out a sound from my memory. But it did not work. Tick toc.... time is running out.
I shut my mouth; I close my eyes, put pillows upon my ears. I say nothing, refuse to see nor hear anything,yet I feel everything.
I still remember.
Is sound reduction possible if you are not born deaf? If only we could choose what we can hear, the world would be a better place. Choosing what you could hear is different from choosing to believe what you hear. The former leaves you without burden, without a heavy heart; the latter stains you, even subconsciously.
Tick toc, tick toc....my head spins on hyper drive, my vision creates illusions. I turn off the lights to find reality. I can see THEM, moving shadows--lingering in the dark; ready to pounce on me anytime.
Tick toc.... I run and hide. I fear they might wake the devil inside.
Aren't we all shrouding fragmented embers of our souls?
My multiply site is so messed up and I remember having multiple blogs. Yep, I think I write too much that I admit to having owned a number of blogs which I do not remember the passwords to. Good thing I found this. SAVED! I reviewed the few contents of this account and found some stupid shots I made when I was younger. Yes younger--but I think I was more mature then.
Some previous entries from my old blog:
Well, I had no power over the will of the boss. I was relocated. It's alright, I can take it. I think I could practically take anything at the moment.
Anyway, my mom was away for the weekend; Only our Dad was at home. Early Saturday I drove my brothers to their classes (MRT for Jong)., went home and lounged around until my Dad woke up. The two of us went to the mall to do groceries. Because he is a HE, and I am a very he-oriented SHE (note: I am not a lesbian, just boyish)--our grocery basket contained junk, junk, junk...and a can of lysol. We also split to buy our respective needs. I do not really need the things I bought, but I couldn't just resist!!! As follows:
Of course, one of my favorites--Neil Gaiman
James Patterson's novel--the first one to be rendered manga stye.
Sunday--we fetched our mom at Harrison Plaza near BSP Main. Frankly, all you'd see are DVDs. Good for DVD addicts like me!
Stalls at Harrison Plaza. taken with my cel's cam.
Another entry:
British Ambassador to the Philippines, Peter Beckingham with missionary students at BSP-SPC. Lucky for the boys of a certain missionary school who was taking a tour of the plant, they were able to get their shot (courtesy of me).
It is quite astonishing to know that a big branch of the government does not have an official photographer. So today I was asked to be in charge of taking pictures for the visit of the ambassador of Britain. From 9 in the morning up to 12 noon I was standing—I had no breakfast, just coffee…imagine that. I was so busy shooting—I didn’t notice that I wasn’t able to get my picture taken with him!!!!
Another entry:
Eternal Song
I seek for a place that isn’t ‘here’;
Spread the wings hidden at my back
And take flight in this sky,
--this sky that stretches into the far-off eternity.
On days when the wind won’t blow,
You just have to hurry a little.
On nights when the storms won’t stop,
You just have to run, never look back.
I wander in the moment you live in,
Chasing your back.
If, for example, the evening sun doesn’t set,
If, for example, I lost everything--
On any day,
I am searching for you.
Another entry:
There was a boy who hummed a tune
As rain poured down in early June;
Twilight dust filled the hungry air,
His heart he still refused to share;
A daily game of sticks and stones—
After all we walk alone.
-J.Sison 10/09/08
Now why would I write that? I admit that, for me, being sad is much easier than being happy. Don’t get me wrong, I do appreciate all of God’s blessings, and the little things people do to cheer me up; it’s just that I find it effortless to be blue—a plus too because I have nothing to lose. I have been this way since I was young. Call it sick, but I do find some sort of comfort in depressing things. There are times that I think I couldn’t take it anymore, but I am powerless to do anything but live. I am in no mental state to commit serious suicide, because in spite of it all now I know I have people to live for. I have always been attracted to black and white, never the colorful type, but I do try a little color at times—I know how to be happy too. I fully understand the way of the world, like clockwork, time is a factor. There would always be deadlines, people running to and fro to catch it. Sometimes you feel that you are at the top of the world, there are times you are somewhere in the southern hemisphere; times you’d feel like you’re chillin’ at the Arctic, or freezing at the Antarctic. But being human, you’d get burnt at times, no matter how frigid you seem to be—a vacation at the tropics.
I like rainy days too, and prefer night over day; I love the moon more than the sun. It’s just a question of preference after all.
What is beauty anyway? There's no such thing. I never 'appreciate,' any more than I 'like.' I love or hate.
–Pablo Picasso (1881-1973), Spanish painter and sculptor. The following photos are from my works uploaded on my multiply which dates back for the past two years up to the present.
