Personal

06.29.16

I am still in great confusion on whether I am going to resign and find a new job next year, or stay where my heart is at ease. Almost 3/4 of myself would really like to start something new – to build a new and established career with legitimate perks and a higher salary.

But I am not brave. Yes, I am ambitious but I am scared of people. I am awkward. Thinking about the scenario when it comes to interview scares me right now. What would happen if I can’t give them the answer that they are looking for? What are the answers that they are even looking for? What if they discriminate my tattoo? What if I am not competitive and made for the job that I wanted? Fuck it, what kind of job do I even want right now?

I am lost. So lost. Screw me, screw everyone!

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Letter to A

Words are not enough to express my regret about the things that we talked about last weekend. Although it was you who brought it up and made me spill it, my remorse is still towards myself.

I always knew that you were not ready to face the idea of us settling down anytime soon. I know that our initiative in building our “own” future don’t meet like the way I always fantasize it. I didn’t mean to take a step ahead of you. I have to admit that it never occurred to me.

I know you’re not ready to embrace the responsibilities of a family man. Heck, you’re not even capable of handling me when my temper fails us I am insane. I am crazy. I know that you still want more for yourself. Your own big bike, your own car, a brand new airsoft, or collectibles of Star Wars or DC memoirs. I know that in your mind, the idea of us is still far from getting near. I know that, honey. I can see it through your eyes.

No matter how many times you say that you care for me, I know what lies underneath. Even if you say that I am your priority, there’s still something more important. Please, admit that that category where I am the first is the least among your essentials in life. I know you don’t need me. And the only one holding our relationship together is me.

To be honest, I have no idea why I still stay. Maybe Paulo Coelho is wrong, that “Love simply is” is not. I am trying my best for you to see that you can let me in. I want you to feel that will never leave you. I will always care for you. I can be the servant of that stupid-pumping vital in your chest. I’m not like the others. I love you.

But do you feel the same way, too? You don’t. I am sorry for not being beautiful enough. It’s my fault that I can’t be the first thing that you can think of in the morning. I’m sorry that the stars don’t shine in my eyes for you to hold me. I’m sorry that you think I can’t hold your universe in my fat, manly hand. I’m sorry that I can’t be enough for you.

I always try my best. I really do. But knowing that you are still afraid to build a future with me made me realize that I should stop this nonsense and should probably go with the flow.

“Kino-control mo buhay ko,” you said cold-heartedly.

I’m sorry. I didn’t know that caring for your future (not ours) means controlling you. From now on, I promise to agree on anything. Let me care less.

I, *you may call me luna* hereby announce that I will care less in any of your actions. I will honor your statement. I will do my best to step back and prioritize your own demands. Because my rights is far less from being important. What you want will be just and should not be abided. Because I am the lowest of the low, and one of the stupidest shit in this world.

 

Putanginang buhay to, I said to myself.

8.6.16

I have a habit of wounding myself whenever I’m hurt. It’s not that deep, so the marks don’t last for a week. The scars may not stay for too long but they are ugly. Probably as ugly as me. Perhaps that’s the reason why I don’t mind painting demons on my wrist. No one will notice it. People will not mind. I am not an important person like what you’re thinking.

The truth is, I want to die right now. But the problem is my parents are not yet ready. I haven’t paid the debt that I owe them when I was born. Imagine the state of the financial crisis they ought to face when I die. I am a 22-year old girl, suffering from a disease that may be similar to an existential crisis. It is so hard to survive a day while battling my personal predicaments. Also, a part of me is still hoping that someone out there can save me. I highly doubt it, though.

Why? Are you really asking me why I think there’s no one out there who can save me? It’s simple. No one cares unless you’re pretty or dying. In my case, I am far from the descriptive manner of being “beautiful.” Two, I try my best to detach myself from my darkness when I get up in the morning. Yes, I don’t want people to see how damaged or broken I am.  I don’t want those people to slap me in the face with the thought that they don’t care about me.

So fuck me. Fuck me fuck me fuck me. I am trying to put the rope around my neck here while my family and friends and boyfriend are busy with their own business. I have never been anyone else’s world, and I swear to god that I will never ever reveal these inner demons to anyone who can’t make me the center of their universe.

The world is full of shit, and I am one of them. There’s nothing we can do about it.

 

Disclaimer: No, this entry here doesn’t sum up my whole emotion right now. Words aren’t enough to express how close I am to detonating the bomb, planted by my own shitty self. Shit. Shit shit shit shitshitshit.

Things I Do For You

It’s Monday, dawn. I can’t fall asleep thinking of the things that I might have said when we were talking. What would possibly happen if I told you that I, a 22-year old content manager, have already made up my mind to settle down at the age of 27?

I know, I know. I’m young and my family still has a financial crisis – my brother got his girlfriend pregnant, and my mom’s ma is now on meds. Yes, I am still a child in the eyes of many. I’m a neophyte in this vile, crazy world. But I’ve seen more than half of the things that I have to see. I know what poverty is – the result of failed knowledge in learning what the future has for you. I know what having a family is – knowing that you can never be alone in this world. Like what I am feeling right now. I know most of the things that I need to know, as I have already seen them in my experience, if not, in my friends’.

Earlier, my friends and I had a little reunion to celebrate our birthday – S, B, and I. Not all of us could attend, primarily because of a conflicting schedule or issues at home that we shouldn’t talk about. So, D came with her husband and her little Claudio – a 2-year-old little guy who loves truck more than any other toys. Looking at their small family, I saw what real happiness is. The exact meaning of being complete is in front of my eyes, two human beings with their little babe. Now I know how genuine their smiles are when looking at their photos. And that’s when I realized that I want that. I want that for myself, too, before I turn 30.

I was about to say what I feel and lay my ideas, or should I say my “plans”  for you… for us. I was thinking of the right words to express how I want to settle down with you. I want to start building the foundation of our future right now. I know things are still complicated with our own families but I am ready to explain how I am willing to wait as long as there is an assurance that you’re with me, as we take the first step in writing a brand new chapter in our life as one. I am not asking you to get me pregnant right now, for god’s sake. All I want is to guarantee that we’re on the same track. It’s like signing  a contract if you would like to take it that way.

But while we were talking about our own day, I saw how you’re not yet ready. It gave me an idea that we’re on a different ride here. There I was, thinking about my our life, 5 years from now. And there you are, bothered at the thought that your parents would not let you drive the crosswind. Are we on the same page here? I think not. I think it is not right to cross that bridge yet with you, still hanging on that side.

So even if I’d love to move on and explore the beautiful thing we are that may encounter in this life together, I chose to stay and do things that I used to do. Who am I anyway? I’m just a sad, pathetic, dreamer who couldn’t care less about her own self. So that my dear, is how I began to know what sacrificing is. That’s what I did for you.

GEORGE BEDFORD DANIEL

I don’t know why, I don’t know when. But right now, you are the sole reason why my trance and I wouldn’t meet at 3:17am. May the gods hear my prayer, let me hold you in my arms. Even for 30 seconds. Please, please, please, heal that broken shoulder.

Photo credits to Google

Photo credits to Google

I love you, giant.

Paris – The 1975

Listening to that song right now. Since last week.

Is there a danger in daydreaming? My sense of reality is starting to crush. I am starting to believe that I am a lost daughter of a French Royale who they want to get connected to again after 21 years of suffering from life and its void. And here I am getting instant rich with money to use to replenish what my “foster” family miss – a prospered house, head-turning cars, good business, and a high sense of comfort and security.

I am also starting to get lost in thoughts that I am happy with a lover who accepts me for who I am – possibly my present boyfriend or my present crush, George Daniel of The 1975. We’re happy wandering in Paris, getting baked in Amsterdam, trespassing in the secret areas of Vatican, and probably enjoying the nights in London filled with booze and good smoke. I’ll wake up in the arms of my lover, unaware of the time. It will stay for a while before I go back and run the business I have created for me.

I. AM. GETTING. CRAZIER. Help mee ee.