Endless Waiting

Been waiting for over two hours now. I have no idea how much more of this I can take. No songs again. I have lots on my mind but I don't really have the luxury to look for links and post them here. She should be here by now. All this waiting is ticking me off, but what can I do?


Sacrifice huh? A'ight then. I'm in no position to complain anyway. But I'm impatient. 


Here she is. Finally. :(

Nothing, Really.

People come and go. I'm used to that idea. 

Sitting here, observing people's behaviors isn't really boring at all. Or maybe there's just a severe lack of excitement that I'm actually open to just be... watching. 

There's this woman, a parent, a teacher, I suppose, who I had the "pleasure" of working with, tapping her keyboard like hell, grimacing. I wonder what she's typing. She appears to be in pain. Or she's probably constipated. It can be one of these things. Whatever. Now she's joined by her husband who I believe is a coach, forgot the sport though. 

I couldn't think of an appropriate song for this post so I left it blank. Ehh... and maybe, just maybe, I'm too lazy to copy and paste the stupid link. I feel too many things at the same time, my stomach's churning and light-headedness is getting to me. Add the fact that today's my "first day", and ladies and gentlemen, we have a very interesting ballgame. 

I've done something wrong. Lately. I can't take it back but I can probably learn to "enjoy" it. After all, faking is one of the intricacies of life I had long perfected. I have absolutely no problem pretending to be owning specific emotions I have no business having right now but, oh well. I'm me. And I'm certain I'm kind of like Dexter Morgan, a monster, only without that strong urge to thrust knives into someone's chest. Or maybe I haven't realized it yet, but I do. I'm starting to scare myself. 

He has left. I have gone. She has arrived. Dawn of a new day. There's just no room for weakness now. My gut says I'm wrong. But I don't really care anymore. Moving to a new environment may help plenty. But that's a couple of weeks at most from today. 

I'm thrilled. Yeah, right. I'm nervous. Err... It's maddening. More and more, I'm losing track of time, of those people caring enough to ask me how I am at least once a week. I'm even beginning to think hopeless thoughts, like, I'll never be able to find the other "me" again. The "me" that can deal well. The "me" that can effortlessly smile at even the most trivial of stuff. The "me" that finds creative ways to channel intense emotions. The "me" that is better than who I really am. 

My cooking skills will be tested. Again. Just to digress... I guess the 17th floor is better than the 16th. We got room 11. If we had the same room a floor below, I would have jumped off the window for the obvious trickery God is playing on me. 

YELO said I think way too much about the future. That she liked hearing the plans I have for Christmas or for next year, but at the same time, she didn't want to be subjected to false hope. She has a point. A clear one and I had no answer for that except keep my promises and be someone deserving of such a person. *sigh*

I wanted to post explanations for my "temporary insanity" shoot but I lost all intentions to. One of these days. 

Temporary Insanity

Explanations come way later. :)


It's 6 in the morning and I haven't slept yet so... 

Overdue

Torpe - Barbie Almalbis / Hungry Young Poets

Namamatay na ang mga rosas sa tabi,

Di ka pa rin bumibili

Nauubos na ang oras sa kahihintay,

Pero ni sulat, ni tawag wala

- After more than a decade, things haven't changed much.

Been meaning to write for a while. And I have. Just that I couldn't post what I have so far. Or maybe I'm just too frigging lazy to copy the ones I have in my damn laptop. 


I told a friend that I have a lot on my plate as of late. Funny how things are. Me? Staying at home, doing absolutely nothing, having a load to take care of? Well, yeah. I have to start with fixing myself right? I'm not totally fixed but, there's a bunch'a stuff in my life I find more enjoyable at the moment. Laughing freely doesn't come as often as well, now. And for that, I have Keiron Matthew Sycor Trevett to thank. Thanks man, for opening my eyes. I knew I could count on you. At all freaking times. Thank you, thank you. 


Dumbest Move of the Century Award goes to........ ME! Just had to say that. I let go of something far more valuable than my batch ring can ever be eight years ago. I shouldn't have acted like a total moron. I should have done this, I should have done that. Well, boo-hoo. Too late, amigo. What I can do now is prolly get my ass off this chair, pack my things, look for a job "there" and have a nice get-together with....... KB. Oh man... Thinking about what happened between us during college makes me want to drive a thousand nails into my brain. I mean, seriously. KB, KB, KB... A keeper. Uber moronic of me to let that special connection go. And for what? Air. What an idiot. 


So I'm writing two novels at once, see? One of CAT Guys and the other, my The L Word fanfic. And all I can think about is how stupid I was to effing do what my characters always seem to do in most chapters. 


Oh, and I don't think of He-Who-Can't-Be-Named any longer. He only pops up when he forcefully inserts his name in my SMS inbox. And when I'm amazed at myself for not thinking about him - say what? 


Did have my fun singing songs with a coupl'a friends earlier. I was a virgin. Haven't tried videoke before. Big deal. Got over it and am going for a second round maybe later this week, if time permits. Good way to get those bad vibes out of my system. Don't know howta sing well without my guitar backing me up but what the hell. Might as well. Punched in 9 songs, should have been 10 if it weren't for whatever error that was. I have another set in my phone for the next visit. 


Torpe. AMA used to dedicate that song to me way back in high school. Rightfully so. Not proud of it but what can I do? It was true. Still is. Haven't gotten over the fear of saying something wrong or doing something stupid or whatnot. Beats me how some folks can walk up to the ones they admire and just be themselves. I was always the shy one, the timid one, the awkward one. God help me. I hate this. 


And so... Hello World! It's me, 17 again. 

Quarter-life crisis, I suppose?

I Can't Make Me - Butterfly Boucher

But I can't make me love you
And you can't make me either
Patience, boy, I need it
I can't make me love you

- I thought I couldn't, but I've been re-thinking for the past few days... Big step.

ArBie, thank you for being there. You've been very generous, very sweet. You keep saying things that I only heard from HIM. They sound different. I could'a sworn they're the same but somehow, I always get this nagging feeling that they're not. Prolly the impact on me? Whatever it is, I don't think I'm ready to find out.

Do I need a hand or do I have to figure this out on my own? My little brother's been big help lately, what with all our late night talks, but I was always at a loss for words every single effing time we had to talk about ArBie as compared to Ardoy. I can't get HIM outta my system. How can I flush HIM out? 

I still have all 292 pictures of him in my iPhone, a few in my Blackberry, videos I couldn't delete, messages from waaaaay back... Does it have to start there? I get whenever I try to press that effing button. 

ArBie just told me he doesn't care whether I have moved on or not, that he's willing to wait and doesn't give up that easily. I have tried just about everything to discourage more aggressive moves. Futile. He's just dead serious. Come to think of it, my future doesn't look bleak with him. He can provide me a new lease on life. He's a good person, responsible, stable, all that my ex-partner (Guidance Office) would have wanted in a boyfriend. But my heart simply doesn't yearn for him. Sure, I like him. Who in his right mind wouldn't like a LIKABLE person such as him? There's a reason likable exists in a dictionary. And it spells A-R-B-I-E. 

I'm pretty sure he has already come up with a gimmick to surprise me later after work. After all, it's my last night here. Plus he gave me hints!

Existential questions had arisen last night - why I'm alive, what my purpose is, the works. Used to ponder the very essence of life during college but it came as a shock last night. After which, "Will I ever find someone like ArBie again later on? Should I give him unlimited chances? Should I say yes now? Or should I wait for Ardoy to man up to his mistakes and keep his promises like he said he would?"

I admit. I'm hopeless. Argh. So sue me.

Blah-ness

Missing You - John Waite

Everytime I think of you
I always catch my breath
And I'm still standing here
And you're miles away
And I'm wondering why you left


I ain't missing you
I can lie to myself

- I keep lying to myself. 

What in blazes is wrong with the world that no one can just leave me alone to rot? I mean, I'm out here, doing nothing at all and people just seem to love messing with my head so much they'd go miles racking things up. Wow, especially when I really, really thought things are moving along, they, nope, HE, finds ways to go way overboard. It's like saying I have no right to park myself in the middle of bright, healthy sunshine. Well, well. Get lost!!! I'm trying here. Just please.

I have a lot on my plate lately, more when I return home. Even I wonder why. Is it a prerequisite for me to feel overly fatigued, stressed out, fed up, devoid of emotions and sorely hurt all at once before I can finally step on it to reach that elusive feeling of content?

I have no idea what my ethos is. I lost that when I threw away my will to actually exist in this Godforsaken piece of land. My philosophy has always been to let myself be whoever I feel like without the liberty to judge people for choosing how they want to spend their lives. Now? I don't effing know. 

Dear Lord, can you let up a bit? You know, sending signals and stuff like that? I'd like to think that everything happening, blowing up in my face hours, days before I wrote this was purely coincidental. That it's my mind over-analyzing, misinterpreting things. That I was reading too much into what I deemed obvious. But Jesus Christ! How many times have I seen August 30? I don't particularly like canoodling with the idea that there's hope for me in the near future. It's called false hope. And I, as your daughter, deserve much, much better. Unless of course, you have devised of another way for me to learn more about carrying out that altruistic self friends usually say I am.

What do you want me to do? Keep marveling at how flawless HE moves? Gawk at HIM while he runs around making a fool of me? Hell no. But then again, HE's total eye candy, so easy on the eyes.  Oh, send me straight to hell! Deviant. Pathetic. Nonetheless... <-- Go get a life! 

(Insert: Frustration) I was about to post more, only my compo wasn't saved. And I'm not in the mood to recover the thoughts I lost. It was mostly about ArBie and the cool dude he introduced me (which I call "Ar"), the big DSLR talk, Nikon babies, lenses, strobes, flashes and you get the gist right? We loved badmouthing Canon! That was the best part! Too bad, ArBie couldn't keep up...

And I hate myself. Been reflecting about my life. And ArBie. And Ardoy. The fact that I can type ArBie's name first than HIS is progress, right? Gotta be. Else, I'm still effed.

See? Glee!

Somewhere In Between - Lifehouse

This is over my head
But underneath my feet
'Cause by tomorrow morning
I'll have this thing beat
And everything will be back to the way that it was
I wish that it was just that easy

- Right around this time last year, this was the song I dedicated to you.

I'm losing sleep again. I can't seem to focus on anything but my own effing heartbeat. Depression must be what it's called. At least, not the clinical type though. 

This is too much to take in. All of it. I'd rather think of him dead than breathing, knowing he can do just about anything while I wallow in a pathetic stew of pretense and sadness. And when I'm on the brink of saying "I can't do this anymore," something inside of me forces me, pushes me to back up, be stronger than most.

I shouldn't back down. Not when I'm close to what I want, needed, to accomplish. In a week, I'll be starting anew, leaving behind four agonizing months of emotional torment and physical mutilation. I could barely recognize myself every single time I looked in the mirror. 

And then there's God. He understands me. But I guess, He has taken on the task of effectively getting inside my head with His extremely weird signs and symbols and what the effin not. He has handed out millions of 16's and 30's and initials and scenes and everything else I wouldn't wanna see when all I could ever ask of Him right now is a moment of peace. 

I don't know if Glee makes me genuinely happy. Had an eleven-epi marathon last night and it did make me smile. I laughed, even, giggled when there were romantic gestures. Oh God, I hate singers. 

A suitor, which I merrily call "ArBie", downloaded the episodes from somewhere and gave me a DVD copy. Only yesterday did I manage to pick it up from below the computer table and gave it a shot. I was only reminded of Ardoy. Bleh. This is getting pretty tiring. 

Give me distractions please. Intense ones! Give me something to do! Anything. Oh yey! I just heard a red eye passing by! F!!!

Oh, today is the anniversary we started texting each other. Argh. Obsess much?