I'm doing better now. I told you once the weather clears up, the blues would go away. Plus the fact that I've been listening to 90's songs all afternoon. Good vibes baby.
it just made me realize na ang emo-emo ko na, ang bata ko pa lang. nyahahaha. How I could possibly relate to these songs without actually being in 'that moment', I have no idea.
Maybe I just have a good ear and taste for music--- a quality which I would require from my boyfriend. That's non negotiable. I mean, i can't imagine myself sitting inside his car and listening to R&B or hiphop. I would die. I don't expect that we'd listen to the same songs ALL the TIME. Variation is expected, as well. Our relationship should be a journey of new discoveries, if not of places, then of good music.
And with that requirement set, I would like to just say, so far, so good.:-)
CHANGING MY WORLD, ONE MISTAKE AT A TIME.
Monday, November 07, 2011
747
by Kent
Still one of my favorite songs EVER. Reminds me of Remote Control Weekends.
...And Something else.
Silence, like a whisper
Maybe tomorrow it won't be here
So tomorrow we could teach them
Some new styles
You're such a killer
So shoot me down again
It won't hurt when the killing is done by a friend
Silence, like a whisper
So this is all we need
The fully air conditioned sound of speed
A violent whisper
And this time it's for real
So this day I made plans for us to leave
Silence, why won't you listen
Maybe it's just me
but sometimes it's impossible to breathe
A violent whisper
Maybe this time it won't heal
Maybe this time it will bleed until I'm free
we ran out of time... leave it all behind.
source: www.youtube.com and www.sing365.com
Still one of my favorite songs EVER. Reminds me of Remote Control Weekends.
...And Something else.
Silence, like a whisper
Maybe tomorrow it won't be here
So tomorrow we could teach them
Some new styles
You're such a killer
So shoot me down again
It won't hurt when the killing is done by a friend
Silence, like a whisper
So this is all we need
The fully air conditioned sound of speed
A violent whisper
And this time it's for real
So this day I made plans for us to leave
Silence, why won't you listen
Maybe it's just me
but sometimes it's impossible to breathe
A violent whisper
Maybe this time it won't heal
Maybe this time it will bleed until I'm free
we ran out of time... leave it all behind.
source: www.youtube.com and www.sing365.com
Thursday, November 03, 2011
Seeing Your Ex
Aug. 24, 2011
By Brent Delaney
www.thoughtcatalog.com
There they are on the crowded street like a hallucination in the pregnant air. You are immediately hit by a bolt of anxiety while the word f*&^ skips over and over in your head like a roughed up CD. Your first impulse is to toss yourself into the nearby alley, but it's too far gone. They see you. You are two bar magnets simultaneously attracted and repelled by each other, north and south poles wildly confused. The sweltering tension as you approach each other climaxes in a, "Hi." Then, an awkward conversation bumbles along in an effort to disregard the coffin of memories anchoring every word. You brandish your shield, calling to arms everything in your reserve in a noticeably forced bluff of contentment. You uneasily shake hands or hug as if you've lost all knowledge of how to hug. And you continue along the filthy sidewalk, treading over cracks as you are struck with murky emotions of nostalgia.
It's a near-death ordeal where brain activity surges and a mashup of all your memories with that person plays on and on and on through invisible earphones. You can't shut the music off. It crescendos and you remember every nondescript detail. The way you changed hand positions when you went on walks together, sometimes intertwined, sometimes palms diagonally overlapping. The way you couldn't grasp how this person you're so in love with could actually like the medicinal taste of kale. The way you held their face or stared up at them anticipating a moment of vulnerability. The way they touched your leg under a table filled with your friends and how that small gesture gave you a profound feeling of support.
It is then that a decrescendo occurs and a cold stream runs through you as you remember that monumental fight you two got into, retreating into your corners of the ring, waiting for the other to send the first SOS, the first apology, the first admittance of wrongdoing. The way you felt at first and the way your relationship crawled towards a routine complacency, dispiritedly trying to regain that electric current of the initial few months when time was irrelevant. The way you both wanted different things in life, but kept an ongoing, unspoken mantra that you were bound by something stronger than your own selfishness.
It was like any other relationship of both positive and negative charges. Just like any other.
And suddenly, it's all over. You start thinking about your own life again, your present problems and the fact that you need to buy Parmesan if you want to actually enjoy that spaghetti you plan on eating. The memories evaporate. Who you were and that particular stage of your life recedes back into the depths of you, laid to rest in a place with no gravestone; a place you will visit less and less because, no matter how much effort, you can't resuscitate the past.
By Brent Delaney
www.thoughtcatalog.com
There they are on the crowded street like a hallucination in the pregnant air. You are immediately hit by a bolt of anxiety while the word f*&^ skips over and over in your head like a roughed up CD. Your first impulse is to toss yourself into the nearby alley, but it's too far gone. They see you. You are two bar magnets simultaneously attracted and repelled by each other, north and south poles wildly confused. The sweltering tension as you approach each other climaxes in a, "Hi." Then, an awkward conversation bumbles along in an effort to disregard the coffin of memories anchoring every word. You brandish your shield, calling to arms everything in your reserve in a noticeably forced bluff of contentment. You uneasily shake hands or hug as if you've lost all knowledge of how to hug. And you continue along the filthy sidewalk, treading over cracks as you are struck with murky emotions of nostalgia.
It's a near-death ordeal where brain activity surges and a mashup of all your memories with that person plays on and on and on through invisible earphones. You can't shut the music off. It crescendos and you remember every nondescript detail. The way you changed hand positions when you went on walks together, sometimes intertwined, sometimes palms diagonally overlapping. The way you couldn't grasp how this person you're so in love with could actually like the medicinal taste of kale. The way you held their face or stared up at them anticipating a moment of vulnerability. The way they touched your leg under a table filled with your friends and how that small gesture gave you a profound feeling of support.
It is then that a decrescendo occurs and a cold stream runs through you as you remember that monumental fight you two got into, retreating into your corners of the ring, waiting for the other to send the first SOS, the first apology, the first admittance of wrongdoing. The way you felt at first and the way your relationship crawled towards a routine complacency, dispiritedly trying to regain that electric current of the initial few months when time was irrelevant. The way you both wanted different things in life, but kept an ongoing, unspoken mantra that you were bound by something stronger than your own selfishness.
It was like any other relationship of both positive and negative charges. Just like any other.
And suddenly, it's all over. You start thinking about your own life again, your present problems and the fact that you need to buy Parmesan if you want to actually enjoy that spaghetti you plan on eating. The memories evaporate. Who you were and that particular stage of your life recedes back into the depths of you, laid to rest in a place with no gravestone; a place you will visit less and less because, no matter how much effort, you can't resuscitate the past.
Wednesday, November 02, 2011
Why I Need Therapy
There are days when I am just overflowing with happiness, with creative juices, with the zest for life.
There are days, though, when I just feel like curling into a ball, crying myself to sleep, and wishing never to wake up.
Compared to other people, I have no major issues to speak of. I had a great childhood, I've no angst, and I am not at war with the world. And yet, I choose to pick my scabs so I can bleed, so I can remind myself that I am still alive, albeit, bordering the line of just existing.
It's not that I am not a happy person. I am. I would also like to believe that I have a talent in making other people happy. I am a firecracker, so they say. Never losing energy, always laughing, always in high spirit.
...until something bursts my bubble.
It could be a song that reminds me of my ex. It could be the weather that prevents me from going out with friends, holding me immobile and glued to my bed. It could be the sight of happy couples or carefree children.
To simplify things, I am a self-confessed, non-clinically diagnosed manic-depressive.
For some time, I thought that I was cured of this disorder (for more or less 5 years). But something triggered it and I don't think I need to name it.
You may be thinking that it's only because I was recently heartbroken that I'm swinging from happiness to depression in a snap of a finger.
FALSE.
I've always been a kindred soul since I can remember. I was that kid who listened intently to sad songs, feeling hopeless for a heartbreak that has not yet arrived. I was that teenager who wrote poetries and short stories to a love unknown. I was that 20-year old fresh graduate who stared at the ceiling endlessly at night thinking my life was not how it was supposed to be. And now, I am a twentysomething career woman who works 12 hours a day and drowns 2 hours a night at the thought of ending up alone.
What is important to note, however, is that I am not dishonest with myself. I never pretend to be happy when I'm not.I never incurred the habit of lying, not even to myself. If anyone would ask me if I was fine, I need not come up with a verbal response. They just need to see me, my eyes, and the way I slumped in my chair uncomfortably, and they would automatically know. I am that transparent.
And tonight, I am once again spiralling into the bottomless pit of self-destruction. Of hate. of Anger. Of helplessness and hopelessness. Forgetting how far I've come along. Forgetting the overflowing love I've been receiving.
But only for tonight. Or until this weather clears up.
Because that's the beauty of a self-confessed, non-clinically diagnosed manic-depressive. You always know that things will be better and that you will be happy again.
Until the next bubble bursting.
There are days, though, when I just feel like curling into a ball, crying myself to sleep, and wishing never to wake up.
Compared to other people, I have no major issues to speak of. I had a great childhood, I've no angst, and I am not at war with the world. And yet, I choose to pick my scabs so I can bleed, so I can remind myself that I am still alive, albeit, bordering the line of just existing.
It's not that I am not a happy person. I am. I would also like to believe that I have a talent in making other people happy. I am a firecracker, so they say. Never losing energy, always laughing, always in high spirit.
...until something bursts my bubble.
It could be a song that reminds me of my ex. It could be the weather that prevents me from going out with friends, holding me immobile and glued to my bed. It could be the sight of happy couples or carefree children.
To simplify things, I am a self-confessed, non-clinically diagnosed manic-depressive.
For some time, I thought that I was cured of this disorder (for more or less 5 years). But something triggered it and I don't think I need to name it.
You may be thinking that it's only because I was recently heartbroken that I'm swinging from happiness to depression in a snap of a finger.
FALSE.
I've always been a kindred soul since I can remember. I was that kid who listened intently to sad songs, feeling hopeless for a heartbreak that has not yet arrived. I was that teenager who wrote poetries and short stories to a love unknown. I was that 20-year old fresh graduate who stared at the ceiling endlessly at night thinking my life was not how it was supposed to be. And now, I am a twentysomething career woman who works 12 hours a day and drowns 2 hours a night at the thought of ending up alone.
What is important to note, however, is that I am not dishonest with myself. I never pretend to be happy when I'm not.I never incurred the habit of lying, not even to myself. If anyone would ask me if I was fine, I need not come up with a verbal response. They just need to see me, my eyes, and the way I slumped in my chair uncomfortably, and they would automatically know. I am that transparent.
And tonight, I am once again spiralling into the bottomless pit of self-destruction. Of hate. of Anger. Of helplessness and hopelessness. Forgetting how far I've come along. Forgetting the overflowing love I've been receiving.
But only for tonight. Or until this weather clears up.
Because that's the beauty of a self-confessed, non-clinically diagnosed manic-depressive. You always know that things will be better and that you will be happy again.
Until the next bubble bursting.
Sometimes, When It's Raining
By Kat George
Oct. 19, 2011
(Source:www.thoughtcatalog.com)
Sometimes, when it's raining, I think about you. I think about you all the way over there, with all that ocean and all those years between us. I think about if you're doing well, what your bedroom looks like, if you enjoy your job. I think about the times when there wasn't any ocean between us and my time was your time. I think about when I knew the answers about you, because they were my answers as much as they were yours. Sometimes, when it's raining, I wonder if it's raining where you are too.
Sometimes, when it's raining, I pretend I'm kissing you. I pretend we're lying in bed all morning with the grey half light and the patter of rain on the roof and the sloshing sound tires make on the bitumen as they speed by the window outside. I pretend you're bringing me tea and we're sitting side by side in bed reading the paper, you telling me the comics and me failing at Sudoku. I pretend we're playing Quiz Master and we're winning. Sometimes, when it's raining, I close my eyes and pull the duvet over my face, and pretend you're breathing by my side.
Sometimes, when it's raining, I feel a little lonely. The grey sky reminds me so much of London's sky, the greyness that enveloped us, even in the summer. I miss my friends, my family, you, especially when my feet are wet and I'm so far from home. I wonder if you're thinking about me too, and I know you're not, and I get to feeling so isolated and worn out. Sometimes, when it's raining, I wish I really was alone, that I had nothing in the past, and only a moment to hide from the world while the sky releases madness
Sometimes, when it's raining, I listen to love songs. I plan my wedding and it's not to you, even though I once thought it would be. I sashay across my room and concoct fantasy love stories in which someone falls for me, madly and passionately. Not the way that you did but in a way which would last forever with every conceivable grandness announcing its arrival. I think about falling in love again, and I promise myself I will, one day. Then I put that promise inside a box, and I put the box in my pocket. Sometimes, when it’s raining, I like to make believe.
Sometimes, when it's raining, I begin to feel alive. I start to have those clichéd thoughts like "everything is washed away". I think of you fondly, without remorse or longing, and decide that the rain will bring me a new beginning. My mind clears and I begin to see the future spanning before me, as I turn away from the past laid out behind. There are ways for me to say goodbye and when it's raining, sometimes I say them all in whispers you'll never hear. Sometimes, when it's raining, I like to run outside in all my clothes, and let the water to soak through to my skin.
Oct. 19, 2011
(Source:www.thoughtcatalog.com)
Sometimes, when it's raining, I think about you. I think about you all the way over there, with all that ocean and all those years between us. I think about if you're doing well, what your bedroom looks like, if you enjoy your job. I think about the times when there wasn't any ocean between us and my time was your time. I think about when I knew the answers about you, because they were my answers as much as they were yours. Sometimes, when it's raining, I wonder if it's raining where you are too.
Sometimes, when it's raining, I pretend I'm kissing you. I pretend we're lying in bed all morning with the grey half light and the patter of rain on the roof and the sloshing sound tires make on the bitumen as they speed by the window outside. I pretend you're bringing me tea and we're sitting side by side in bed reading the paper, you telling me the comics and me failing at Sudoku. I pretend we're playing Quiz Master and we're winning. Sometimes, when it's raining, I close my eyes and pull the duvet over my face, and pretend you're breathing by my side.
Sometimes, when it's raining, I feel a little lonely. The grey sky reminds me so much of London's sky, the greyness that enveloped us, even in the summer. I miss my friends, my family, you, especially when my feet are wet and I'm so far from home. I wonder if you're thinking about me too, and I know you're not, and I get to feeling so isolated and worn out. Sometimes, when it's raining, I wish I really was alone, that I had nothing in the past, and only a moment to hide from the world while the sky releases madness
Sometimes, when it's raining, I listen to love songs. I plan my wedding and it's not to you, even though I once thought it would be. I sashay across my room and concoct fantasy love stories in which someone falls for me, madly and passionately. Not the way that you did but in a way which would last forever with every conceivable grandness announcing its arrival. I think about falling in love again, and I promise myself I will, one day. Then I put that promise inside a box, and I put the box in my pocket. Sometimes, when it’s raining, I like to make believe.
Sometimes, when it's raining, I begin to feel alive. I start to have those clichéd thoughts like "everything is washed away". I think of you fondly, without remorse or longing, and decide that the rain will bring me a new beginning. My mind clears and I begin to see the future spanning before me, as I turn away from the past laid out behind. There are ways for me to say goodbye and when it's raining, sometimes I say them all in whispers you'll never hear. Sometimes, when it's raining, I like to run outside in all my clothes, and let the water to soak through to my skin.
Forget Reality: Let's Fall In Love
We snagged, just for a second there, didn’t we? We bumped our heads together like idiots and we both came up concussed. Everything was going so wonderfully, I was so delirious for you, but then… well, it’s life happening, not some romantic dream. And I hope, I really do wish it with my eyes squeezed tightly closed and my hands balled firmly into fists at my sides as I concentrate, that next time we see each other we forget what’s “real” and indulge in our reality instead.
Because our reality, right now, it’s just about falling in love. Let’s put the real stuff aside—the past, our insecurities, all the baggage we’ve imported from all our journeys—and let’s just be. This is our moment to be fanciful, and we might not get another one, at least not together. I don’t want to have to “deal” and “cope” and “work” yet. For now I just want to kiss you and lose myself in all the small moments when you wrap your arms all the way around me.
Things are complicated, I know, but let’s soar above that, at least for a day. Let’s make getting to know each other about all the wonderful things that made us fall into each other’s embrace in the first place. Let’s not mar it with all the ugly crap we’ve filled our pockets with over the course of the years we’ve already lived without each other’s company. And then, once we’re madly in love, and only then, we can unleash it all upon each other, so that we’re equipped to deal with it the way that lovers do—patiently and compassionately.
You know how it is when we’re laughing? That’s how I want it to be all the time when we’re together. Don’t get me wrong—I’m not idealistic or selfish—if you’re having a bad day I will be there to hold you and hold you until you don’t feel sore anymore, and I’ll do it without complaint or request. I’ll do it because I care about you deeply. But listen: we’re not ready for the heaviness of the past yet. We can share and laugh and rub away each other’s daily miseries but I don’t want to delve into the backwardness of all that came before. Not yet, at least.
I want you to trust me and know that every time I look at you all I see is wonderfulness. I see lights and rainbows and everything good and awesome about this world all radiating out of you at once. Yes, I’m intense and yes, I’m romantic, but can’t you just take my adoration for a second and let it make you as happy as it makes me? Relax into me, because I’ve got you on a pedestal now, and there’s no one else in the room but us. And this is half the reason I don’t want to share the dirty stuff with you—because every now and then you make me feel so warm it’s as though nothing else ever existed.
We could be best friends, you and me; we’re so alike in so many ways. And now we have to decide whether we’re going to knock our likenesses against each other and explode into tiny bits that splatter against the walls, streaking downwards and pooling in insidious puddles, or if we can make those likenesses build each other up, like great cities or rolling mountains. I’d like to think that we could be a team, that we could conquer everything together. That we’ll draw from each other to be stronger and better. That we’ll still be holding hands through all of winter’s blizzards. 
Tuesday, November 01, 2011
Dear 3-Day Work Week
Please be good to me. I've had a pretty good weekend. Let this not be ruined by irate clients, emotional instability and unrealized expectations. I've invested so much in this for me to be disappointed. Show me some love and I will love you back. I promise.
A.B.
Sorry for the big pictures, extending beyond the borders of my blog theme. I don't know how to edit it.
A.B.
Sorry for the big pictures, extending beyond the borders of my blog theme. I don't know how to edit it.
The Long Weekend That Was
Can we all say Awesome?
It was just the break that I needed after all the toxicity of work and other miscellaneous stuff.
Day 1: That Badass Road trip
It's good to go back to the Perks Haven, swim under the stars and just enjoy the night with people you love and who love you back. I had a particularly nice time catching up with Mamba and Tubby's parents. It brought me back a few years when we were planning out our lives, wondering where we'll be after 10 years. Career-wise, I think we're still on track, maybe even ahead of what we initially planned. But in terms of our personal lives, well, it's just a minor detail that we're currently working on. We've been meeting a lot of people, widening our circle, meeting new friends. Sooner or later, things will fall into their rightful places, and Mamba's parents will finally get the "invitation" they have been waiting for.
Ang Stopover
The 3am swim
Waiting for the Breaking of Dawn (walang kinalaman sa Twilight, pero vampire mode kami)
Ang breakfast of Champions
Ang chillax under the Tree
Ang circle of friends, with a new addition
HOHOL under the Tree
Caught on Cam, ang social butterfly. I want to believe this is a sign.
Hanggang sa muli
Day 2: The Geeks with the Geek in Pink (Now in Black)
The Perks did not have the chance to sleep all day after the very tiring Friday to Saturday gig. I had to wake up early for Cemetery #1 duty, and to prepare for our Jason Mraz concert. As I previously mentioned in my post, it was Awesoooome (think Barney Stinson's high pitch voice as I say this). Kulang na lang ay mag group hug kami sa pagkanta ng You and I Both, The Remedy at I'm Yours.
Ang favorite lines:
"God knows we're worth it... I am loved, You are loved."- I Wont Give Up
"If its a broken part, replace it. If its a broken arm, then brace it. If its a broken heart, then face it. and hold your own, know your name, go your own way.. and everything will be fine." - Details in the Fabric
"When I fall in love, I take my time. There's no need to hurry when I'm making up my mind... I won't worry my life away." - The Remedy
All in All, it was an intense night, a superb listening experience with a bunch of people who share the same love and passion for music as I do. Can't wait for our next concert together.
Day 3: Sleep All Day, Eat all Night
My family does not need a special occasion to throw a party. My cousin just prepared ginataang halo halo as a lure to bring us to their house and the rest of the night was just our typical gatsby usapan about nothing and everything. Of course, we took some time to do grocery shopping for the cemetery visit but after that, we had an impromptu dinner that amazingly looked as if it took a day's worth of preparation. A huge bowl of salad, chicken take out, BBQ ribs done by my cousin Lilac* and Good ole chicharon to keep us talking the entire night. This is why I love my family. Clingy lang kung Clingy.
Day 4: Camp out at the Cemetery
With just barely an hour's sleep, I had to wake up at dawn to go to Cemetery #2. Contrary to my initial thought that I would be dozing off the entire stay, I actually didn't sleep a wink when I got there. Maybe it was because I brought Atlas Shrugged that kept me awake or maybe it was because of the intense sun beating at my skin as early as 6:30. Or maybe it was my actual longing to be with the company of Mama. This year is actually the 10th death anniversary of my twin brothers, my Lolo and my Mom's 25 Death Anniversary. I felt guilty that I wasn't able to visit her last May on the actual anniversary date because I was at Paris that time, but I never forgot to include her in my thoughts and prayers.
Whenever I talked to her in front of her grave, it never fails to bring a tear to my eye. She's my angel. I prayed for her guidance and for longer years with Pops, especially now that he's going through a tough time with his illness. I pray that I would still have more years to spend with him. I really want him to see me get married, to walk me down the aisle, to see my kids grow up and be a doting grandfather as I know he would be.
It's really been a tough year for me. Sometimes, I wish that I have somebody permanent to give me strength to get me through some days. My ex could call me anything he likes, but I want to believe that I had been there for him when he needed me most, when he was at his weakest, that is, when his dad fell ill. I had genuinely cared for his dad, and I know he meant a lot to him so I gave him strength during those difficult times, even when I had none to give anymore because we were also going through a challenging time during our relationship. He wasn't over my past so I tried to assure him that he had nothing to worry about. He had too much on his shoulders then, and with my love for him, I helped him carry them so our relationship can progress. I wish I had that somebody right now, a pillar of strength and source of optimism as I had been for him. But God has a different plan for me. I think He wanted me to find my own capabilities and if I feel my strength fraying thin, He would show me His love through the kindness and compassion of others; my family, my friends, my angel.
This weekend had proven not only to be a healing moment for my body but for my spirit,as well. It invigorated me to work harder towards my goals, be thankful for the blessings God continues to shower me with, and love the life I have.
AS we draw closer to the end of the year, the Lord is giving me more and more reasons to believe that 2012 is going to be my year. And I cannot Wait.
It was just the break that I needed after all the toxicity of work and other miscellaneous stuff.
Day 1: That Badass Road trip
It's good to go back to the Perks Haven, swim under the stars and just enjoy the night with people you love and who love you back. I had a particularly nice time catching up with Mamba and Tubby's parents. It brought me back a few years when we were planning out our lives, wondering where we'll be after 10 years. Career-wise, I think we're still on track, maybe even ahead of what we initially planned. But in terms of our personal lives, well, it's just a minor detail that we're currently working on. We've been meeting a lot of people, widening our circle, meeting new friends. Sooner or later, things will fall into their rightful places, and Mamba's parents will finally get the "invitation" they have been waiting for.
Ang Stopover The 3am swim Waiting for the Breaking of Dawn (walang kinalaman sa Twilight, pero vampire mode kami) Ang breakfast of Champions Ang chillax under the Tree Ang circle of friends, with a new addition HOHOL under the Tree Caught on Cam, ang social butterfly. I want to believe this is a sign. Hanggang sa muliDay 2: The Geeks with the Geek in Pink (Now in Black)
The Perks did not have the chance to sleep all day after the very tiring Friday to Saturday gig. I had to wake up early for Cemetery #1 duty, and to prepare for our Jason Mraz concert. As I previously mentioned in my post, it was Awesoooome (think Barney Stinson's high pitch voice as I say this). Kulang na lang ay mag group hug kami sa pagkanta ng You and I Both, The Remedy at I'm Yours.
Ang favorite lines:
"God knows we're worth it... I am loved, You are loved."- I Wont Give Up
"If its a broken part, replace it. If its a broken arm, then brace it. If its a broken heart, then face it. and hold your own, know your name, go your own way.. and everything will be fine." - Details in the Fabric
"When I fall in love, I take my time. There's no need to hurry when I'm making up my mind... I won't worry my life away." - The Remedy
All in All, it was an intense night, a superb listening experience with a bunch of people who share the same love and passion for music as I do. Can't wait for our next concert together.
Day 3: Sleep All Day, Eat all Night
My family does not need a special occasion to throw a party. My cousin just prepared ginataang halo halo as a lure to bring us to their house and the rest of the night was just our typical gatsby usapan about nothing and everything. Of course, we took some time to do grocery shopping for the cemetery visit but after that, we had an impromptu dinner that amazingly looked as if it took a day's worth of preparation. A huge bowl of salad, chicken take out, BBQ ribs done by my cousin Lilac* and Good ole chicharon to keep us talking the entire night. This is why I love my family. Clingy lang kung Clingy.
Day 4: Camp out at the Cemetery
With just barely an hour's sleep, I had to wake up at dawn to go to Cemetery #2. Contrary to my initial thought that I would be dozing off the entire stay, I actually didn't sleep a wink when I got there. Maybe it was because I brought Atlas Shrugged that kept me awake or maybe it was because of the intense sun beating at my skin as early as 6:30. Or maybe it was my actual longing to be with the company of Mama. This year is actually the 10th death anniversary of my twin brothers, my Lolo and my Mom's 25 Death Anniversary. I felt guilty that I wasn't able to visit her last May on the actual anniversary date because I was at Paris that time, but I never forgot to include her in my thoughts and prayers.
Whenever I talked to her in front of her grave, it never fails to bring a tear to my eye. She's my angel. I prayed for her guidance and for longer years with Pops, especially now that he's going through a tough time with his illness. I pray that I would still have more years to spend with him. I really want him to see me get married, to walk me down the aisle, to see my kids grow up and be a doting grandfather as I know he would be.
It's really been a tough year for me. Sometimes, I wish that I have somebody permanent to give me strength to get me through some days. My ex could call me anything he likes, but I want to believe that I had been there for him when he needed me most, when he was at his weakest, that is, when his dad fell ill. I had genuinely cared for his dad, and I know he meant a lot to him so I gave him strength during those difficult times, even when I had none to give anymore because we were also going through a challenging time during our relationship. He wasn't over my past so I tried to assure him that he had nothing to worry about. He had too much on his shoulders then, and with my love for him, I helped him carry them so our relationship can progress. I wish I had that somebody right now, a pillar of strength and source of optimism as I had been for him. But God has a different plan for me. I think He wanted me to find my own capabilities and if I feel my strength fraying thin, He would show me His love through the kindness and compassion of others; my family, my friends, my angel.
This weekend had proven not only to be a healing moment for my body but for my spirit,as well. It invigorated me to work harder towards my goals, be thankful for the blessings God continues to shower me with, and love the life I have.
AS we draw closer to the end of the year, the Lord is giving me more and more reasons to believe that 2012 is going to be my year. And I cannot Wait.
I Should Be Sleeping but...
in two hours, i'll be waking up and leaving for the cemetery to visit Mama. 25 years of going here and my heart still aches for her. I never got the chance to know her but I know from all the stories that she was a very kind person; soft spoken, quiet, loving and beautiful inside and out.
I'm not saying that I hate my life now. Mommy has been very good to all of us. I couldn't think of a better person to take care of us than her, but there are times when I cannot help but wonder what my life would be and how I would turn out if Mama had lived longer.I think I would be less talkative, more conservative and reserved, more mysterious and soulful as she had been. I cant say that I would be better. Different,yes, but not necessarily better.
MTB never had the opportunity to meet her. I had been planning a visit to the cemetery so I can introduce him to Mama, but in all four years of our relationship, the moment never arrived.
Maybe God intentionally hindered them from meeting. Maybe He wanted me to bring him, my future, to Mama as a sign that he will be the guy that the Lord has set for me.
I know that Mama is up there guiding us, like an angel whom you may not see, but can feel every second of everyday. She has been instrumental to removing the pain in my heart and allowing me to be hopeful for the future.
I'll be with you later, Mama. We've got a lot to talk about.
I'm not saying that I hate my life now. Mommy has been very good to all of us. I couldn't think of a better person to take care of us than her, but there are times when I cannot help but wonder what my life would be and how I would turn out if Mama had lived longer.I think I would be less talkative, more conservative and reserved, more mysterious and soulful as she had been. I cant say that I would be better. Different,yes, but not necessarily better.
MTB never had the opportunity to meet her. I had been planning a visit to the cemetery so I can introduce him to Mama, but in all four years of our relationship, the moment never arrived.
Maybe God intentionally hindered them from meeting. Maybe He wanted me to bring him, my future, to Mama as a sign that he will be the guy that the Lord has set for me.
I know that Mama is up there guiding us, like an angel whom you may not see, but can feel every second of everyday. She has been instrumental to removing the pain in my heart and allowing me to be hopeful for the future.
I'll be with you later, Mama. We've got a lot to talk about.