damsel in distress and in manila

jeez... i just arrived last night from cebu. and right now, i'm playing the role of the damsel in distress. i don't know where to go, where to stay, what to do, how to start. can i just bang my head on the wall?

and i'm definitely missing my kid and my home...

crazy again

i'm crazy, i know. i wish somebody would bring me to a psychiatrist. this was just last night (the cutting). and the memory is still fresh. it didn't hurt really. it's actually addictive. every time i slice, somehow i forget the pain that i feel inside. every cut helps me breathe fully. every cut makes me smile. bitterly, i suppose.

they said i'm strong. they said i could make it. they said i'll be okay. do you think the same?

Desperation

How should a person who has only P20 in her pocket feel? People around her would say, "Don't lose hope. You can find a part-time job and then keep up." Others would say, "Yeah, that sucks. Why are you in that situation? you have a job, right?" And after you explain to them what happened, they just tell you to hang on until payday comes or until help comes. Hang on? How can you hang on to P20? How can you do that when your problem is how you can eat and survive?

Of course, a person is grateful for all the advice. But she can never eat those bits of advice. Don't they realize that the person they are talking to already knows those things? Oh yes, they are sympathetic. They would go as far as telling the person that they do understand and know how difficult the situation is. But that's all there is, empty words of sympathy.

Yes, I am desperate. My mind is thinking of selling myself. That should be easy. Many women have done it. It's just a matter of conditioning the mind. If I start doing it, I would solve a lot of problems. I wouldn't think of where to find money for food and for fare. I would not hesitate to try out a new posh restaurant. I could send more money for Kishni and get to see him anytime I want. I could buy him cute clothes that I so want to see him on. I could send money to my relatives who are always asking for financial help. I could go to Boracay or Bohol where my friends and I planned to go this December. I could buy my family a new TV in place of our sick TV which needs a smack everytime. I could give Kishni a decent birthday celebration. I could do many things. But can I do it? I'm too much of a coward.

Another option is to kill myself. I just bought a shiny Gilette (is that the spelling?) blade at the store in front of the boarding house. I know it's not a solution but it can end all things. I would not think of what to eat. I would not think of how I will get money to send home. I would not think. PERIOD. It's just simple anyway. I've attempted before, just not successful. Nobody care. Nobody knocks in my room. Nobody would know until I'm already drained of blood. However, I would not beable to see Kishni anymore. But That really doesn't matter, does it? I'm already dead. I would not feel. I would not think.

Yes, this is desperation. No matter how much I cry and shout for help, nobody seems to hear. Maybe if I'd die, they'll hear my silence. But I am just a coward. Can I face death?

Puppy Love

It was the summer of 2004. I was in Metro Manila that time, working for a call center in Makati. It was lonely for me to be in a strange big city. I couldn't go out with my friends since they didn't have the same rest day as I had. So I spent my time going to the mall and surfing the Internet and chatting.

I met "Michael" in the IRC. I don't remember which channel it was or what we had talked about. But somehow, we exchanged numbers and began sending messages to each other. I knew then that he's in Batanggas, visiting his grandmother. We planned several times to meet in a mall in Makati but he couldn't leave his granny.
The time came when I realized I was pregnant. Well, actually, I already knew I was pregnant because I didn't have my period for 3 straight months then. I had just been too scared to accept it since no one was there for me. The father of my baby was not there because we broke off before I flew to Manila. Or rather, he broke off with me because he fell for another girl.
It was a double hit for me. I was so down that I thought of taking my own life and the life of my baby. Yet Michael was there, still texting despite knowing that I was pregnant. He urged me to live my life and tell my parents about. So I did. And as expected, it was a bomb for them.
I went home feeling lost, useless and worthless. Every night beside my sisters, I cry myself to sleep. Michael was the only person who can make me smile.
A couple of days after I arrived in Cebu, he told me that he was also in Cebu. He was taking his review classes here for the board exams. He is from Iloilo so Cebu was a practical choice for his studies. He asked if he could go to our province, which was an hour away from Cebu City, so he could meet me. I never expected that he would, but I certainly hoped.
And he did. He texted me that he was already in the church where I instructed him to go. I was a bit shocked that he was able to get there since it was his first time in Cebu. So I quickly headed there. "Michael" was already 23 years old at that time but I saw a lanky young man with hair divided in the middle. He looked younger than his age. We talked a bit and decided to start walking to our house. I thought he didn't bring a bag or anything but he rushed to the candle house and got his bag, a plastic and something covered in newspaper. On the way to the house he gave me the plastic bag and the thing covered in newspaper.
"What's this?" I asked.

"Just open it," he urged.
It was an arrangement of yellow roses in a box which looked like a small coffin. That was the first time I received flowers. I was already half expecting to see flowers inside but that didn't hinder me from feeling wonderful. I don't know how else to describe what I felt. It was just wonderful.
"You're blushing," he commented.
I was indignant on saying, "No. I don't know how to blush!" But he laughed at me.
In the plastic bag were several boxes of peanut kisses so I asked if he went to Bohol. He said that he just saw them in the grocery of Gaisano South and thought that my sisters and I might like them.
I served him a plateful of pancit canton that I cooked and a plate of rice. I was surprised to see later that he downed them all. He couldn't believe that I was the one who cooked the pancit. We talked in our living room after he ate. We talked about anything under the sun.
It was already at 5PM when I advised him to go since it would be difficult to get a V-hire if he'd go much later. On our way out of the compound, we passed by my mom who was at the neighbor's yard. He went near my mom and explained that he knew about my situation and that he is there as my friend. Imagine, my anxiety at that moment. No guy was ever brave enough to approach my mom.
I ended up going with him to the town since I still wanted to be with him. We bought bread and a bottle of Coke each at a food shop near the terminal.
"Can I ask you a favor?" he asked

"Sure, what is it?" I was happy to oblige.
"Can I court you? But promise me you won't have me, you won't say yes." It was a weird request.
"Why would you still want to court me if I won't say yes? Besides, I don't want to fall for you."
"Yeah. You're right." He agreed but he looked at me as if he was telling me something through his eyes.
After our talk, he needed to go or he'd miss the van. So we said our good byes.
It's ironic that the next time that we met was only because of my pre-natal check up. My tummy wasn't that big at that time. I would have to stay in a friend's apartment the night before the check up since I had to be early in the hospital. He would be there and then we would talk. we'd sit near the door way for the apartment and he'd lay his head on my shoulders or on my lap. I felt young and vulnerable at that time. The moment was painfully sweet. I almost wished it would last forever.
I took him to the gate when he was about to go home. Then he asked, "Can I ask for something?"
"What's that?" I wondered.
"Can I kiss you?" I was a bit surprised but I know in my heart I hoped for that.
"Well, okay." I stood stiff as I was waiting for the kiss. Then he kissed my cheek and got out of the gate as quickly as he could. It took minutes to register in my mind what had happened. I was expecting a kiss on the lips but he kissed me at my cheeks! Then I laughed my heart out. It wasn't what I expected but it sure was damn sweet. That memory made me sleep that night with a smile on my face.
The last time we met, we just spent out time holding each other's hands. He was hugging me. He wanted to talk to me about what we feel. Then in the end we both decided to just accept that we can't really be. We felt that it was the end of what we had.
I cried so much that night because it hurt. I couldn't explain what hurt me, but the hurt, somehow, reached my physical body because there was a physical pain on my chest.
I had loved the father of my child. He became my everything at one point in my life. What I felt for "Michael" wasn't that intense as my love for the father. However it became my source of strength when I needed it most. It was childish but wonderful. And I know that no matter whoever comes into my life, I would never forget "Michael".

bad start

here's a letter of complaint i sent to our manager:

September 18, 2006
Ms./Mr.________
____________________
______________________
_________, Cebu City



Dear _____,

I would like to formally raise a complaint against two guards in the building. I felt harrassed with the event this morning of September 18, 2006.

This situation started last Saturday, September 16, 2006 about 10:30 in the evening. A friend and I drove to the parking lot of the building to ask permission from the guards to park in the lot of the building. I asked one guard in blue barong who was sitting near the elevator. He said in a very arrogant way that we can't park there. Then he waved his hand as if to shoo us away. I thought that he was trying to tell me that we can park at the lower lot. So I tried untangling the rope that bars the lot. Then he got angry and stood up. He told me that we can't park there. I asked the other guard in security guard uniform sweetly if we could park there. He still said no and explained that the parking lot was for the cafe's customers. Then I said that I will tell the _____ Management about it. However, it was not my intention to do that since it was a petty thing.

This morning, about 7:30, I dropped by the ATM before going the elevator. The same guards greeted me but I didn't feel like responding. The guard in the security guard uniform approached me first and he said that they wanted to talk to me about what happened last Saturday. The guard in barong, then, stepped forward. They didn't ASK to talk to me but demanded to talk to me. ("Mag-istorya sa gud 'ta kadyot." I still passed even if they blocked my way, and went in the elevator. When I was inside, the guard in barong stayed at the door of the elevator to prevent it from closing. The two guards keep telling me that they want to talk to me outside but I said no. They reiterated the rules of the building about the parking. They were also saying I was very arrogant and I act like the owner of the building. (Hilas kaayo ka ha. Mura ka'g tag-iya sa building.) The guard in barong tried to grab my arm to get me out of the elevator but I was able to put myself in the corner of that cube. I was already saying that I did not want to talk and that what they were doing is already harrassment. He tried to grab my arm again. But there were already many people passing and we were attracting to much attention so he stepped out of the way.

I understand the rules of the building and it's not a big deal for me not to be able to park here. I am concerned about how these "guards" act. They were supposed to make the building and the people of the building feel safe. But I felt offended and harrassed. I feel unsafe now in getting in and out of the building.

I am requesting for a speedy action about this. Thank you.

Sincerely,



_____________

hopes and disappointments

how many times does a person have to be disappointed in order to learn not to hope or expect? well, the end point is not really for a person learn not to hope or expect, but rather to avoid getting hurt or disappointed.

why do people have to promise when they know that there is a possibility that it won't be made true? if a person makes a promise, it should be fulfilled in every possible and impossible way. they should know that disappointments can hurt.

nude painting session

three artists has just asked me to pose nude for them for a painting session. we talked yesterday and agreed on the fee. although it can be a labor to pose while people are painting, i'm very excited about it.

i just hope that there won't be people who will just watch.

man of my dreams

a friend asked me about the qualities that i'm looking for in a guy. here's my answer:

with dignity and principles. someone who's completely in love with me and who completes me. he should love movies.. sweet, smart. someone who cares about other people but not what they say. he must be someone i can learn from... insatiable in bed but only with me. someone does not always say he's sorry, but when he does, he really means it. someone romantic. someone who can surprise me with breakfast in bed one morning, or flowers delivered to the office without any occasion at all. someone who's not afraid to hold my hand in the public. someone who loves to eat anything that i cook. someone who is responsible but can be carefree..

i can describe him to you down to the smallest detail. kaso, the man im describing is ideal, ergo existing only in my mind.

breakfast in bed

WARNING: This entry has adult language and content.

jeez... this morning, i heard the people from the room next to mine having sex. the girl's moans were very audible. i fought the urge to eavesdrop. but honestly speaking, i really want to listen to them. until now, i still could replay how the girl moaned. The "oooohhhs" and the "aaaahhhss". i know, it's unethical to listen. however, i didn't really put my ears against their wall. i just heared them from my room.

yes, i admit. i also get the urge sometimes. i'm not the nun next door. but i've always wanted to take control of that part of me. wait, that's not what i want to say today... to continue: and yes, it made me horny today. and i sooo want to do it. but i can't.

catch

i need someone who can catch me when i fall...

but why can't i learn that there's no one? why do i still allow myself to fall again and again?

ulan

itulo na lang ang mga luha
nga nag-ung-ung sa akong mga mata
kining akong kasakit
unta maanod sa imong tubig

ikaw ra ang nakadungog
ning dugdog sa akong dughan
ning bakho sa hilum
ning syagit sa kalaay ug pag-inusara

ikaw ra ang nakakita
sa kangitngit sa akong palibut
sa kaguol likod sa katawa
sa samad nga dili makita

ikaw ra ang nasayod
kung unsa ang mga kaagi
kung unsa ang mga pangandoy
kung unsa ang gibati

ang tingog sa bundak mo
maoy hele sa pagkatulog
ang dampi sa tulo mo
maoy hapyod sa akong kalinaw

kitang duha nagdamgo
sa sa tulog, ako dili makamata
pahuway kong dayon
matag adlaw gi-ampo

hooked in slashes...

i'm already afraid. i'm already afraid that i would completely lose my sanity.

as you know, i'm always alone. yesterday, i didn't go out of my room. i didn't eat, i didn't drink water, just 2 trips to the restroom. i was hooked into slashing my wrist with a blade. i keep on running the blade on my skin, the same spot over and over. the pain i felt was addictive. sweet burning sensation... and then you see the blood, pure red. and the smell, like rust. then i made a hit over it again.

the pain was wonderful, so physical. made me forget of the pain i felt inside. really addictive, i'd do it again to night.

dr. bob and family guy

let's call him dr. bob. last night, he went to my place. we exchanged stories of how our life was for the past month we hadn't seen each other. he brought me clusivol multivitamins by the way... after he gave it to me, we watched Family Guy from his iPod.

this cartoon is really slick. it's not for kids anyway. but it talks about sex, violence and many things. surprisingly, it still does give out moral lessons. like one episode, the mother was hooked into stealing because of the excitement taht it gives her. when she was in prison after she was caught, she told her family about the reason she did it. she was tired of the routine of being a mother and a wife. it's sad really when you think about it. i know many women feel that. they are simply deprived of the excitement in life.

another episode showed that we just realize the importance of some persons in our lives when they're not there anymore. the baby with the british accent had hot babysitter. he ogled for her but when he discovered that the girl has a boyfriend, he kidnapped the guy. so the girl was sad because the bf didn't call. and he was there trying to "comfort" the girl but, the slick baby reached for her chest. the babysitter, then, scolded the babe. because of this, the baby schemed to have her fired. she drugged the girl and scattered booze and drugs everywhere. when she was fired, she gave the kid a present to remember her by. this made him realize he made a mistake. but it was too late since she already left.

the cartoon presented it in a satiric and dirty way but it tells many truths in life.

how will you know you're in love?

is it when you cannot stop thinking of his face, his smile? when you just catch yourself smiling because you remembered something amusing that he said? when you still remember how you felt at home when your fingers interlocked? when you yearn to feel the security when your head is just on his chest? when you remember how you danced without music? when it feels so right when you laugh together? when you remember his smell? when you like the way he plants soft kisses on your head? when you... jeez... i can go on forever.

women and pigs

why do i have to get affected when i realize that there are only pigs and women? (maybe except my father and some of my guy friends)

i am sad again. too upset to even write...

last night, i was with a friend in an internet cafe to chat. now, here's a guy who wanted to meet up for a cup of coffee. i told my friend about it. and guess what? he was thinking that i will do seb. what i did? i let him read our chat transcript especially the part where i made sure that it was only for a cup of coffee and nothing else.

it is fucking depressing once people judge you. and i got a second dose of it when i met the guy from chat. while he was driving, he kept bragging about how much he earns and how much he can spend in a day because of his "call center" work. he said that their call center is different since they can earn almost 20k a day. wow! and imagine his guts when he held my hand and kept massaging it. "Are you trying to seduce me? Don't try, because you can't." i said. There was no coffee and he didn't even bring me home as he promised. he dropped me off somewhere. jeez... what a jerk!

and now someone told me that it's unfair for me to generalize... have guys been fair? i don't think so. if i only have a gun, for sure, i would have shot every jerk i met.

sorry

according to webster.com:

Main Entry: sor·ry
Pronunciation: 'sär-E, 'sor-
Function: adjective
Inflected Form(s): sor·ri·er; -est
Etymology: Middle English sory, from Old English sArig, from sAr sore
1 : feeling sorrow , regret, or penitence
2 : MOURNFUL, SAD
3 : inspiring sorrow , pity, scorn, or ridicule : PITIFUL
synonym see CONTEMPTIBLE

A sorry is just too empty these days. One may mean it when he/she says it but some just don't do anything to prove that he/she is sorry. And that makes it so empty. Sorry is already a sad word. People just made it sadder.

Someone said sorry to me... Probably he meant it but it better that he didn't say it. I can't see nor feel the sincerity. The damage has been done. I've already been hurt. And he doesn't do anything about it. He just says, "Sorry...". Am I supposed to feel okay after that? Is it a magic word that all the hurt will fade? Doing something to make amends does not even erase the fact that you've hurt the person. How much more the mere 'sorry'? Really, talk is very cheap...

those eyes II

there you are again
why are you back?
why are you here?

i do not want to love you
i even want to hate you
i even want to stay away

but your stare drowns me
i resist to go deeper
i resist to be weak

this is madness, i know
love? it cannot be
love? it should not be

but one glance i melt
of touch that never was
of whisper never heard

your look of sweet gentleness
it reaches my soul
it touches my heart

oh help, i cannot fall
deeper into that gaze
deeper for those eyes

knight vs king

The old cliche says, "If you love somebody, set him/her free." Is it really a show of how much you love a person when you set him/her free? As a pragmatist, I would say, it depends on the situation. When there isn't really a chance of you to be together, there's no reason for you to still hold on. Like when your loved one migrates to another part of the world and you know there is no chance for you to go and follow her. Like when your loved one is already married. Like when your loved one has just died. In these situations, there's no choice but to let go.

You need to hold on and fight when a 'villain' is just just there to break your relationship. Or when the loved one is only temporarily transferred to another area in the country because of work. Or when you had a quarrel over the lady love's dress.

However, the dreamer in me says that every situation is worth a fight (well, except death and when the loved one wants his/her freedom.) But, of course, there is a time when you really have to let go. I would want my man to fight for me as bravely as I would fight for him. I prefer a warrior or a knight who can fight for me, than a king who can shower me with riches but will think first before fighting for me (if it's for the betterment of the kingdom or it can bring his rule down). A knight/warrior only has me and his principles to fight for. A king has other matters more important than me; he has a kingdom to worry about. I'm not wondering why Guenevere chose Lancelot over King Arthur. Of course, I want a guy who can tell me, "I'll take care of your worries," than a guy who who would tell me, "I'm here to make you smile and forget your troubles."

Maybe I'm too much of a dreamer to yearn for that "knight in shining armor". I want someone who will only let me go after a good fight.

tequila residue

my head is pounding from tequila last night. and my mind doesn't seem to work now.

what happened last night? i went to a party--well, not 'went' because i organized the party. anyway, it was a party for a community i used to belong. it's actually a costume party but naughtier. the costume should be underwear. i invited my friends along, maybe hoping that we'd teach the guys a thing or two. every one started to drink tequila and then, do the body shots. it seems that i can't bear to see my friends being devoured. everything went wild and got out of control. i was already acting like a conservative aunt. ha!

jeez... see the effect of tequila? i can't even tell a decent story. (decent here means 'of an acceptable standard or quality'.) i have an excuse. i am hung over. hmm... or shall i say, i'm still drunk? and i haven't ingested any food yet this day.

no. it's just that i'm not that good in narrating what happened. i seem to be better at writing about what i feel.

now, what am i feeling? let's just say it's a mixture of anger, frustration and depression. go ahead and sprinkle some suicidal thoughts. and viola! i am me.

but honestly, i am just hurt...

buloy

i'm listening to 'buloy', a song from parokya ni edgar. buloy just seems to describe me. i'm projecting an image that i am strong. i used to think that i know better than them. i used to show them that i'm okay and i'm happy. when they know i have a problem, they would always have that confidence that i can make it.

but they don't now that i'm crushed, that i've always wanted to end it all, that i'm drowning in tears, that i'm hurting, that i feel so alone, that i've always considered suicide to be a friend... and he's the only friend i have right now. the only person there for me.

bleak is everything. i want to just curl on my bed... see blood.

Crazy...

yeah, i'm getting crazy. i've been listening to 1 same song over and over. 'crazy for this girl'. i wonder if there still such a guy. She's got me thinking about her constantly --no guy can ever sing this. guys may be in love with a girl but a guy cannot think of her like this... a guy can sometimes be crazy for a girl but he would let his feelings take over him. while girls can always throw caution away.

this is a song i've always been amazed with. so as halaga by paroka ni edgar. i've never met such guy. well maybe i've met him but he's just crazy for another girl... yeah, i've met guys like that. they're just not for me though.

like my dad, he's crazy about my mom even if she's soooo moody. i don't know if he has ever been unfaithful. but so far, i've never seen them fight because my dad has always been patient and understanding. well, my mom is always gracious when it comes to my dad anyway.

those eyes...

those eyes,

so clear, so beautiful

innocent like the child's

mesmerized,

i melt, i ache to touch

that's how i feel when i see them

your stare,

that which makes me blush

i can drown myself in it forever.

the longing,

that's what it tells

of yours and mine, lost forever

'tis ordeal

have you ever felt like crying and then you cannot cry because it's just not the proper place? have you ever wanted to shout and still you can't because doing such will incriminate you? have you ever wanted so much to hate everybody because instead of helping you, they push you down to the drain?

no matter how much i try clawing myself up from the ditch i fell into, i keep on slipping back. it's such bullshit when people try to pretend that they're your friends, that they care. but no. i hate it when they do that. i hate hypocrites. i hate posers. i hate jerks.

i'm fed up again. tired. low batt. i just wish all problems would come in and i'll simply be overwhelmed and just kill myself. that would probably make it simpler.

===================================================================

someone said that i am a puppeteer and many guys dance at the palm of my hand. i've never really wanted to be a puppeteer, although sometimes it's fun. the puppets are usually those guys who have major flaws in their attitude towards women. most puppets are those jerks whom i cannot resist to simply break and crush. however i don't want to have puppets. the more puppets i have, the more i realize that there are less and less good guys. somehow that thought makes me weaker.

sinkin'

day by day i feel myself get consumed into darkness and oblivion. inch by inch, i sink into the depths of depression and loneliness. too much pain. i am unable to scream. i ask the heavens, "why? what now?" then i realize i am just asking myself. i feel myself sink deeper and deeper.

no one is there, only silence and nothingness. but my mind is shouting. my heart is exploding. i can't bear the pain anymore. maybe if i stop struggling and dive deeper, i can find what i'm looking for, what i'm needing.

this is what you get when you sleep late

i will write about 2 realizations today. well, i already know about them before but these things became highlighted yesterday.

first is about what 3 guys told me, 'lust for one woman can never be satisfied with another woman.' hhhmmmm... that is why guys can never be monogamous. i am not saying that guys should, though i'm only saying that this is the reason why most married men 'sway'. this is just like saying that if you're craving for a siomai, shawarma could never satisfy that. after a few hours that the hunger has been satiated, you start drooling again for siomai. and by the way, it's not the guys. girls, too, suffer this feeling once in a while. there's just this feeling of something for a particular someone that you can never feel with another person. and lusting for someone can happen too, not just the feeling of spark, intensity or electricity.

Next, when a girl wants to find someone permanent, she realizes many things. 1) The good guys are already taken. 2) The good guys who are not taken, do not suit your taste. 3) The good guys who are not taken and who suit your taste find you not suitable for their taste 4) The good guys who are not taken and who suit your taste, find you suitable only for fornication. 5) Then the rest of the guys are either gay or priests. What does a girl do? Would she settle for someone really not satisfactory for her preference? Or would she settle only for the 'temporary' thing?

strong?

that's what's shitty about it... people think of me strong. that i can handle everything. that i can fight my own battles and fight other people's battles. in effect, i become alone. alone in everything that i do and alone in solving my probs. in effect, my friends only come to me when they need me, never really thinking that im having problems too. and yes, i help them. it's fucking tiring to be strong.