Love Will Tear Us Apart

Do you know what happens when you get your heart broken? You overcompensate.

You do the stuff you don’t usually do. You study hard, you get active with a lot of community endeavors, you read books you thought you’ll never read, you exercise and make yourself better. You become somebody else. You occupy yourself with many things, thinking that you’ll get over him sooner than you expect. You keep yourself busy. You keep your head clear from any of his memories.

You run from his memories. You opt not to watch the TV shows that he likes. You turn off your iPod once you hear the music he listens to. You hide him from your News Feed on Facebook. You delete his messages on your phone. You throw away your photos together. You try hard to disintegrate yourself from him.

You wake up early to start a productive day. You work harder, you push yourself to the limits. You go home, a little drunk and tired. You hit the bed. You don’t have the energy anymore. You sleep late, and the routine continues the next day. You become a robot, merely existing, barely living. You tire yourself. You work until you run out of energy, until your body cries for help, until your mind screams “Rest!” You work and work and work and work until you hit pit bottom.

You keep fighting the urge to regress. You fight off any unwanted emotions. You keep telling yourself that you are strong. But in the end? The fact remains—you have a hole in your heart that no one/nothing, not even the greatest accomplishment, can ever fill in.

Killing the Buzz

Wake me up when October ends.

October 2010 is being a bitch on me. I started it with a bang, and will probably end it with another bang. This month is the worst I've ever had in my entire 20 years of existence. It already topped my March 2008 shit load. I had the roughest weeks this month, and will have another (and hopefully, the last!) screwed up and tiring week whether in the work place or at home.

So far, October is not getting any better for me. The hate fest still continues. And there's this kind of "Revolution" that I am going through. Not that it matters to anyone, but I am pretty fed up with my life. Sounds like teenage shit all over again, right? I know it's immature, but right now, I just feel like that. Maybe it has something to do with my crappy internet connection that keeps on letting me down for the past few days. To think that I am paying the priciest plan there is. So much for "good" advertising, I guess. I just feel tired in general. And I am too young to feel this kind of tiredness. I wish there's an end to this stupid month. Please let this month end soon.

I am emotionally drained, but I can still feel. And that what sucks the most. Being emotionally battered. I usually don't go on telling anyone (not even my closest friends) about the burdens I have, because I know that they have their own set of problems too. I just shrug it off most of the time. I sleep until it passes. However, my defense mechanisms have reached their saturation point. They don't work out anymore. And now, I feel the need to explain to everyone what I am going through. No one will fully listen, of course. That's why I am putting these shits in words, hoping that words will take away what I am feeling right now. But words are never enough.

Perhaps I should just listen to Mozart's Fur Elise now and shut up. Or grab and watch that Sister Act 2 DVD for a change. Ktnxbye.

Supernova

"Sige, papatayin kita!" (In english, I'll kill you!)

I never thought of myself as a violent person, but I scared myself with what I shouted a while back. Three words. Three deadly words. It was not that first time that I spoke of those words, but sure it was the first time that I really meant it.

I am emotional, but I am not violent. That's why I cannot grasp the reason why I said those horrible things. What's worse is that I do not feel any regret or remorse after those words slip from my lips. What I felt was a slow and melting relief as if I had been freed from whatever that was holding me back. The sensation was liberating. The feeling was magical. Then, realization dawned on me--I have too much hatred in my heart.

Perhaps it was because I tend to keep everything to myself. I usually drown my emotions with beer and vices, keeping my mouth shut. I usually go back to my shell, and hide there until the sea calms. I turn into this massive ball of curl, not letting anyone in. I curl like a fetus until my logic and rationality return to me. Slowly, I was turning myself into a blackhole. A blackhole that's just waiting to explode.

And then the explosion came. All the emotions I bottled up were summarized in three dreadful words. Maybe it was not really the message I wanted to say, but at that time, it was the perfect expression I could come up with. The expression was not classy. It was not even witty. It was just as savage as hatred and angst. And yet, that instance was the most profound moment in my life, and probably the most harsh, too.

I don't have regrets though. They were only words, but as the old saying goes, "The pen is mightier than the sword." I should probably do some rewiring in my brain. But yeah, I am tired of explaining myself. Ktnxbyedying.

Do you know what sucks about being ultimately happy?

It is the sudden feeling of emptiness that comes after.

It was all yellow

I am feeling kind of blue.

This is one of those days when I just want to lie down and drown myself with sad songs and melodies that don't really mean a thing. I keep on regressing and reminiscing the past--the only thing that I could never get back. There is no pain. None at all. There's just a hallow feeling in me.

I keep on going back and reviewing my life years ago. What have I done? What mistakes have I committed? What stupid decisions have I made? What have I missed? It is too much for me. It is sad, but it does not hurt. It is just sad to think that they were nothing but memories. Memories that will make my existence a lot more meaningful. But soon they will fade just like me.

I go on thinking. I could ramble on and on, but I would not make sense anymore. There's just too much in nothingness. There's just too much in one emotion. And it's too much for one heart.

Ten Reasons to be Happy

I feel awful today in a depressing way (I think that is redundant, but that's exactly how I feel.) I am depressed for reasons I do not want to disclose (yet). But then I know that I still have reasons to be happy.

1. I got my diploma and TOR (transcript of record.)
2. I had the chance to be at UP Manila again, and to see old faces, and to feel okay.
3. Four new books for only PHP 180.00 (Well, I only bought these books because I wanted to feel less depressed.)
4. One of those books is Prince Caspian, which means that I am close to completing The Chronicles of Narnia. I only need to get The Horse and His Boy. Yey!
5. We have a dog now! He is already 8 months old when he was given to us last Monday. Quite old, if I may add. His name is Hachi, but I like to call him Hachi P. because he is Panget for ruining Leonard The Throwpillow (which is five years old). He is a Shiba Inu.
6. I had two Jolly Hotdogs.
7. I have Haruki Murakami's eBooks. Sorry for not buying the real books, I am already broke.
8. I have two new (lola) bags and two pairs of shoes sponsored by my Tita. Yehey for vintage stuff.
9. I am Asian!!! I do not know why I am including that one here. Fill-in reason.
10. I am thinking of going broke all the way. Like real broke. I certainly need a new phone. Okay, that was just a joke. I just can't think of any other reasons to be happy. Oh! Now I know. I am home!

Curse of Atlas

Life is just a matter of perspective.

There are just two absolute truths in life: Everything has a reason. Everything must come to an end. But perhaps life is so mysterious that these absolute truths may not be the only absolute truths there are. Or maybe I have just underestimated life itself.

I always tell myself that everything has a reason. An event will not happen if there's no underlying cause or if there's no reason to it. There must be logic to all the events. There must be. Or maybe I am just convincing myself to make excuses for my pathetic life. Perhaps I must understand and accept that I am living an empty life. A life that has no reason. A life that has no goal. A life that has no depth in it. I am living only for the people depending on me. I am not living for myself. I am living the lives that are not mine. I am living a shallow life. Almost existing, barely living. And what's worse is that it is okay with me. I find it okay that I let other people be the sole reason for my whole being. It is as if my life is tailored to be that way. I feel as if that is my entire reason for existing. Though I get sad and mad at life sometimes, I always find a way to reason out with my emotions. I get tired sometimes. I feel betrayed by humanity and great forces of being. I feel exhausted and lonely. But I always do sweet lemoning. Sometimes it sucks, but I cannot do anything about it. My life is not mine to live. Some people owned it for me. However, no matter how angry I feel sometimes with the people around me for pushing me too hard, I always think that everything shall pass.

Everything will come to an end. It must. And that includes the difficulties and pain that I am going through right now. Everything has its end. But the thing is, what if I die first before this "everything" comes to its end? Perhaps I should blame our kinship system for this Curse of Atlas.

Basketball and Beer

Unemotional and objective. That's me.

I admit that I am an objective person. I am not very emotional (or at least I am not very vocal with my hang ups). I am not a whiny person, though I can be at times (self-serving bias speaking). I think, I have been to a lot of emotional upheavals before that I could attest for myself that I am as emotional as anymore can be. I have been to several heartbreaks that I could say that I can feel such. I have been to a number of beginnings and endings that I know how I heart shattering it feels.

I can feel. Though I hate to admit it, I am emotional, too. I get upset, sad, and heartbroken like everyone else. I am not totally devoid of emotions. Really. I get hurt sometimes (but I do not usually admit it). I have had my heart broken twice, actually. I have been hurt. I have been screwed up by a couple of people. And whether you believe it or not, I cried for those moments, for the love-found-love-lost moments that I had. I cried so many nights like any hormonal girls do over a failed relationship. I may not have said it all, but I tried to. At least. I am not just that comfortable talking about feelings and emotions (much more if these things concerned me.) It might be because of the fact that I see such things as liability and weakness. And maybe that's the thing with me. I just cannot deal with my personal bullshits because I see them as a fucked up excuse to be weak and defenseless.

Maybe I am too macho for my own sake, but that's just me being me. Or maybe that's just me having a bout with machismo and beer.

Pendulum

The worst is far from over, but at least the sea is calmer than before.

She managed not to look hurt when in fact every bit of her was shattered into pieces. She stared at him, trying really hard not to let tears well up in her eyes. She smiled at him--a smile that did not reach her eyes. She just could not make this man love her back. She should have accepted that fact long time ago, she should have given him up. But then, she did not. She did not because she made herself believe that maybe, just maybe, he would learn to love her, and that there was still a chance for the two of them. She sighed and winced inwardly with the very thought of losing a battle, which in the first place was hopeless case.

So here she was--in front of the man whom she had loved for the last six years or so, the man she chased all those years, the man who did nothing but hurt her and make her suffer, the man she loved, still loves, despite all that--hurt and defeated.

She tilted her head and shrugged her shoulders. She just knew for a fact that now was the right time to stop all her madness and false hopes. It was the right time to give up on him. It was a hopeless battle; there was no chance that this man would ever love her one a bit. She must accept her defeat. She had done her part, and yet nothing happened--nothing good happened.

She spoke words of goodbye. In her voice, emotions were void and undetected.

With her last resolve, she turned her back and walked away, fighting the urge to look back.