That certainly worked well, didn’t it? *sarcasm drips*
On one hand, it was pretty silly of me to wear my heart on my (online) sleeve. On the other hand, at least the person in question is aware of how I perceive things to be as of late. On both hands, however, lies the indelible notion that it was all just a bout of stupidity on my part.
I strive more than anything to be rational, really. I honestly do. In fact, I’ve tried so hard to be rational about coping with the last three months that the irrationality I should have felt or gone through during the initial impact of the blow is only recently taking its toll on me. For crying out loud, I had an anger management problem from childhood that I only learned to keep in check over the recent years. Wouldn’t it be just a crying shame if my grasp, my control over one of my countless faults, will be nullified or dissolved in just that wasted instant?
Thus this blog – the haven of my irrationality, my mindlessness and perhaps sporadic cases of my wretchedness and heartlessness – was created. Perhaps when my rational self would once more dominate the entirety of me, it would just laugh or cringe at the emotional regression my eighteen-year-old self is taking. Because logically speaking, this is something I should have gone through or gotten over ages ago – when I was, what, fourteen to sixteen years old? If I wasn’t feeling so… indescribably perturbed, I would be laughing at myself for sounding like a kid that just hit puberty instead of a girl turning nineteen in just a few short months.
Oh, well. Wing it, I shall.
I pride myself on being an open book. But during times like this, I wish more than almost anything (I say almost here because of the fact that there are a few other things I would wish for more than this) that I did have that “Great Wall” people talk about to pertain to a bastion, an impregnable bulwark to protect their souls. No, I don’t really think my soul is in need of protection. As crazy as I get, as flighty and unpredictable as I may be, I believe I can still take care of myself. I don’t quite know how to put it into words, but the closest thing I can offer would be a line from class yesterday:
“No one appreciates what easily comes to them.”
On the surface, this is all true and I can agree with it. I do agree with it. But can anyone really appreciate anything that never comes to him or her? People don’t want it easy. That would take all the challenge in life, and we live for that insane high of the chase, the addicting pursuit, and the journey to that one milestone we all are faced with in the end. But would people want something that pushes them away? Would people appreciate what rejects them, what spurns them, what gives them the impression that their existence makes little or no difference in the rotation and revolution of the earth?
I’ve encountered several people who refuse to let me in. I didn’t mind, not really. Sure, it was like a bitch slap to the face every time I would try to get him/her to talk to me about whatever’s bothering him/her, but the bitch slap was actually a wake-up call more than anything. It was like a mental shout-out for me to snap out of it, that this was the real world that could choose harshness over tenderness at times, but would put an ice pack over my cheek and give me a hug afterwards, when I have stuck it out through all the drama and the angst.
There was another line from one of my favorite films that’s something along these lines:
“On the way to love, we will encounter everything we hate, everything that keeps us from reaching that one true point of our happiness.”
I can’t remember the exact lines, sadly, and so I will just have to watch that film again. If I would believe this, then, I would have to say that I don’t believe I’m in the pursuit of love of any given form at this point, for just one reason: I have not really encountered anything truly despicable, anything that I have come to actually hate. Hate, I believe, is too much of a strong word for me to use to describe the little nuances I come across in every day life.
The fact of the matter is that I don’t believe I have experienced even half of what people should actually experience in life. Now I don’t know just what these things are, but there goes my way of thinking. My experiences have actually been put on hold, because it’s been dawning to me that over the last three months, I wasn’t trying to live my life – I was unconsciously trying to live someone else’s.
Okay, I’m going to take a rational approach to this now. I believe the reason why I’ve been cracking recently is the conflict of this life I’ve been trying to live for someone dear to me with my life in actuality. No, he never imposed anything on me – he was my best guy friend, after all. He cared for me and I cared for him. I believe this is my own undoing. It was a poor way to cope, an ineffective defense mechanism from the pain of loss. No words can exactly box in my feelings and thoughts, but I think this ought to be good enough: I made my memories of him my motivation to get through the last three months, and now that reality is seeping back into my veins, I have been exposed to the prospect that he doesn’t have to be my only reason to live. Now I think this prospect terrifies me. How can anyone or anything match up to him, how can anyone or anything be better to him?
My irrational side is quiet now, and my rational side is saying in a sing-song but bored tone, as though trying to teach me something as basic as the alphabet: people will be as good as or better than someone else at one point because they can and they are. Otherwise this world would not have a point in being, a point in turning, a point in orbiting that tiny star called the Sun.
I can sleep and dream through my nights, but when daybreak comes I have to be up and about, get through the tasks with cheerfulness and normality. And who knows, I may just get enough of a life to have a nightlife later on.
Pfft, excuse my laughable attempts at profundity. :P
And all right, all right. I’m getting there.
**
I hope to post this before we leave for Batangas later. As I type this right now, I’m actually in Phil Soc class and everyone else is in an amusing stupor as we stare up at the lecture on the board. I’m supposed to be typing notes right now, but what the heck, right? Wing it, sleazy.
You could say that my previous notions for the day comprised a pretty damn irrational and random set. I don’t believe I’m so bitter now. For one, Jess and I talked about yesterday’s issue. Yeah, she and I just decided to make news out of our lives, yes? Hah, gotcha. :P Kidding aside, though. There are things I shouldn’t talk about online or anywhere else anymore, but there are some random things that I believe can be imparted without hurting anyone’s feelings. In fact, I hope some of the things will right whatever’s wrong at the moment.
1.) I’m so sorry. You know who you are. I have been complicating lives, most especially yours, these days, so please just allow me to make it right by imposing distance between you and I. It won’t be permanent, but I don’t think I can give a guarantee when we can talk like we used to. I don’t want to think that we can’t talk anymore – I want to be optimistic about the chances of that, because you’re a wonderful friend. And I’ve had too few wonderful friends to lose another one. I am, however, always going to be around in case you’d need a friend. My lines are open to that, I swear. So let me know if you’ve run out of friendly options – that’d probably be the time that I can let this feeling go and go back to our normal, friendly interaction. Hopefully by my birthday? I’d love to have a completely happy birthday. =)
2.) To seal off the temporary ‘back off’ stage in my and Jess’s friendship, we shared a bottle of Vodka Mudshake Cappucino. Far from actually dulling my senses, however, it seemed to have heightened a lot of my sensations and notions as of the moment. I haven’t had alcohol in my veins in awhile.
3.) In line with the second point, it’s the perfect time for self-quarantine in Lipa. Nothing but my laptop, movies, music, schoolwork, my family, a few bottles of red wine and Cerveza Negra and food to keep me company.
**
I’m at home now, and boo, we aren’t going to Lipa for the weekend. :(
On a brief note, I managed to seal my journal the other day. Meaning, the months of December 2007 to February 2008 are now virtually inaccessible to me – until one special day, yes. ;)
On one hand, it was pretty silly of me to wear my heart on my (online) sleeve. On the other hand, at least the person in question is aware of how I perceive things to be as of late. On both hands, however, lies the indelible notion that it was all just a bout of stupidity on my part.
I strive more than anything to be rational, really. I honestly do. In fact, I’ve tried so hard to be rational about coping with the last three months that the irrationality I should have felt or gone through during the initial impact of the blow is only recently taking its toll on me. For crying out loud, I had an anger management problem from childhood that I only learned to keep in check over the recent years. Wouldn’t it be just a crying shame if my grasp, my control over one of my countless faults, will be nullified or dissolved in just that wasted instant?
Thus this blog – the haven of my irrationality, my mindlessness and perhaps sporadic cases of my wretchedness and heartlessness – was created. Perhaps when my rational self would once more dominate the entirety of me, it would just laugh or cringe at the emotional regression my eighteen-year-old self is taking. Because logically speaking, this is something I should have gone through or gotten over ages ago – when I was, what, fourteen to sixteen years old? If I wasn’t feeling so… indescribably perturbed, I would be laughing at myself for sounding like a kid that just hit puberty instead of a girl turning nineteen in just a few short months.
Oh, well. Wing it, I shall.
I pride myself on being an open book. But during times like this, I wish more than almost anything (I say almost here because of the fact that there are a few other things I would wish for more than this) that I did have that “Great Wall” people talk about to pertain to a bastion, an impregnable bulwark to protect their souls. No, I don’t really think my soul is in need of protection. As crazy as I get, as flighty and unpredictable as I may be, I believe I can still take care of myself. I don’t quite know how to put it into words, but the closest thing I can offer would be a line from class yesterday:
“No one appreciates what easily comes to them.”
On the surface, this is all true and I can agree with it. I do agree with it. But can anyone really appreciate anything that never comes to him or her? People don’t want it easy. That would take all the challenge in life, and we live for that insane high of the chase, the addicting pursuit, and the journey to that one milestone we all are faced with in the end. But would people want something that pushes them away? Would people appreciate what rejects them, what spurns them, what gives them the impression that their existence makes little or no difference in the rotation and revolution of the earth?
I’ve encountered several people who refuse to let me in. I didn’t mind, not really. Sure, it was like a bitch slap to the face every time I would try to get him/her to talk to me about whatever’s bothering him/her, but the bitch slap was actually a wake-up call more than anything. It was like a mental shout-out for me to snap out of it, that this was the real world that could choose harshness over tenderness at times, but would put an ice pack over my cheek and give me a hug afterwards, when I have stuck it out through all the drama and the angst.
There was another line from one of my favorite films that’s something along these lines:
“On the way to love, we will encounter everything we hate, everything that keeps us from reaching that one true point of our happiness.”
I can’t remember the exact lines, sadly, and so I will just have to watch that film again. If I would believe this, then, I would have to say that I don’t believe I’m in the pursuit of love of any given form at this point, for just one reason: I have not really encountered anything truly despicable, anything that I have come to actually hate. Hate, I believe, is too much of a strong word for me to use to describe the little nuances I come across in every day life.
The fact of the matter is that I don’t believe I have experienced even half of what people should actually experience in life. Now I don’t know just what these things are, but there goes my way of thinking. My experiences have actually been put on hold, because it’s been dawning to me that over the last three months, I wasn’t trying to live my life – I was unconsciously trying to live someone else’s.
Okay, I’m going to take a rational approach to this now. I believe the reason why I’ve been cracking recently is the conflict of this life I’ve been trying to live for someone dear to me with my life in actuality. No, he never imposed anything on me – he was my best guy friend, after all. He cared for me and I cared for him. I believe this is my own undoing. It was a poor way to cope, an ineffective defense mechanism from the pain of loss. No words can exactly box in my feelings and thoughts, but I think this ought to be good enough: I made my memories of him my motivation to get through the last three months, and now that reality is seeping back into my veins, I have been exposed to the prospect that he doesn’t have to be my only reason to live. Now I think this prospect terrifies me. How can anyone or anything match up to him, how can anyone or anything be better to him?
My irrational side is quiet now, and my rational side is saying in a sing-song but bored tone, as though trying to teach me something as basic as the alphabet: people will be as good as or better than someone else at one point because they can and they are. Otherwise this world would not have a point in being, a point in turning, a point in orbiting that tiny star called the Sun.
I can sleep and dream through my nights, but when daybreak comes I have to be up and about, get through the tasks with cheerfulness and normality. And who knows, I may just get enough of a life to have a nightlife later on.
Pfft, excuse my laughable attempts at profundity. :P
And all right, all right. I’m getting there.
**
I hope to post this before we leave for Batangas later. As I type this right now, I’m actually in Phil Soc class and everyone else is in an amusing stupor as we stare up at the lecture on the board. I’m supposed to be typing notes right now, but what the heck, right? Wing it, sleazy.
You could say that my previous notions for the day comprised a pretty damn irrational and random set. I don’t believe I’m so bitter now. For one, Jess and I talked about yesterday’s issue. Yeah, she and I just decided to make news out of our lives, yes? Hah, gotcha. :P Kidding aside, though. There are things I shouldn’t talk about online or anywhere else anymore, but there are some random things that I believe can be imparted without hurting anyone’s feelings. In fact, I hope some of the things will right whatever’s wrong at the moment.
1.) I’m so sorry. You know who you are. I have been complicating lives, most especially yours, these days, so please just allow me to make it right by imposing distance between you and I. It won’t be permanent, but I don’t think I can give a guarantee when we can talk like we used to. I don’t want to think that we can’t talk anymore – I want to be optimistic about the chances of that, because you’re a wonderful friend. And I’ve had too few wonderful friends to lose another one. I am, however, always going to be around in case you’d need a friend. My lines are open to that, I swear. So let me know if you’ve run out of friendly options – that’d probably be the time that I can let this feeling go and go back to our normal, friendly interaction. Hopefully by my birthday? I’d love to have a completely happy birthday. =)
2.) To seal off the temporary ‘back off’ stage in my and Jess’s friendship, we shared a bottle of Vodka Mudshake Cappucino. Far from actually dulling my senses, however, it seemed to have heightened a lot of my sensations and notions as of the moment. I haven’t had alcohol in my veins in awhile.
3.) In line with the second point, it’s the perfect time for self-quarantine in Lipa. Nothing but my laptop, movies, music, schoolwork, my family, a few bottles of red wine and Cerveza Negra and food to keep me company.
**
I’m at home now, and boo, we aren’t going to Lipa for the weekend. :(
On a brief note, I managed to seal my journal the other day. Meaning, the months of December 2007 to February 2008 are now virtually inaccessible to me – until one special day, yes. ;)
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