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?

Rest Well?

In Your Atmosphere - John Mayer 

I'm gonna steer clear
I'd burn up in your atmosphere
I'm gonna steer clear
Cause I'd die if I saw you
I'd die if I didn't see you there

-  Exactly how I feel whenever I enter your "territory".

18th August 2010

• Greenhills: Gundam Collection
• Tiendesitas: Samantha prospect + Immortal Tattoo

 19th August 2010

• Kenan Levi + Samantha vet visit
• Car Registration

20th August 2010

• House Plans
• De Joya Estimation
• Samantha Housebreaking + Obedience Training
• Gym Membership  
• Piggery Visit

Rest of August

• Core Training
• Architect Hunt
• Transfer of Ownership Papers (PCCI)

Mid to Late September

• @ Manila

Restless. Couldn't sleep though I have to. Time withers away and I feel nauseous. I'm prolly coming down with the flu. Again. Sucks to be me. 


Had to jot down what I have to do once I land on Philippine soil. Haveta keep myself busy, look for a temp job before I leave again. Can't say I'm looking forward to all these.

Home in Nine

Love The Way You Lie - Eminem ft. Rihanna

Just gonna stand there
And watch me burn
But that's alright
Because I like
The way it hurts
Just gonna stand there
And hear me cry
But that's alright
Because I love
The way you lie

- That's all we do lately anyway.  

Gotta love Eminem. Had to run into this song today, of all days. I guess God's not done torturing my already effed up soul, if I had one. Signs. Will tackle that later.

I'm not freakin' out. I'm down to single digits.

Nine more. I'm home. A week ago, I'd prolly be singing my heart out, though I really don't, thanking the Lord for pulling the days faster than I could spell six-effin'-teen.

Now?

What in heck am I going back home for? Tons more heartbreak? For someone who has proudly claimed she has already embraced pain, I don't really have any idea whether I'm ready for more beating or not.

Up to me, Atei used to say.

See, I have this really close friend, the type who forcefully pushes me around to have a little faith in forever, which quite frankly, I deem pretty childish. Anyhow, she's in for a surprise in a coupla weeks. Apparently, the one she's very much rooting for has lost his sanity, along with mine. So much for forever. Where's the trash bin again?

I can pretend I'm apathetic, that I don't feel anything, that I'm rock solid. I can say "Bah, to hell. Who the eff cares?" I can run around, minding my own business, telling myself I don't need what I was used to. I can. But that's parallel to bellowing how empty a vessel I am. I'm running out of time to compose myself. No, I don't cry any longer. I just stare into that bottle of shampoo with the "No More Tears" thingy and bam! Instant control. Until how long though? I'm holding my feelings out again. It got me nowhere and it sure as hell won't get me anywhere this time. 

Nine days. I'm screwed.