torn between fantasy and reality

On the top of my lungs, what I really would want was to shout to the world to back off. Isolation was what I really needed, a peace of mind, and a peace of heart. Heartaches squeezed me dry, and where would I belong? I never knew. Scream.

I was at the peak of my adolescence, and it was such a shame that I was still hanging at the peak of immaturity, not knowing and not getting any. Living with the company of misery, I learned nothing but cowardice. Stuck, just stuck. As time went by, I became more and more apathetic that oftentimes I would just ponder that life would be easier if I became a non-living thing.

A NON-LIVING THING. Odd, it is.

What if I became an oven toaster, or a whiteboard, or a piece of chalk? What if I turned into a refrigerator, or maybe into a giant bookshelf? What if I got to live a life without a bruised heart, without a futile mind, without exhausted blood vessels beneath my skin, then, just then, life could have been easier. No social obligations, no meeting of expectations, no future anxieties and no painful memories, just a non-living thing.

If I were a non-living thing, I could just be in a corner, watching people groping for trivial pursuits, wandering and wandering with their lives full of regrets, full of heartaches, full of despair. If I were a non-living thing, I could spare myself living a life of hopelessness, of emptiness, and of pain. Away from a life of nonsense, in short.

If I were an non-living thing, I would not be worrying to death meeting deadlines, or pleasing teachers, or apologizing to leaders, or dealing with life’s craps, maybe, if I were a non-living thing, I would not be busy winning the favor of the crowd, busy fixing broken relationships, and busy thinking of what others feel and think about me. I would just live my OWN life, minding my OWN business, living as a non-living thing, understanding no one, loving no one. Alone in an island, in short.

If I were a non-living thing, I would be contented being submissive to those who use me, for those who need my help. I would be contented doing my purpose, making the lives of the people better, providing them comfort and care. If I were a non-living thing, I would not have time worrying about my own lifestyle, rather I would be occupied being part of theirs. A superhero, in short.

If I could just be a non-living thing, but I could not, I simply could not. Nevertheless, despite of all these fraud safety that I had knitted in my imagination, I thought that being a non-living thing means being shallow, being empty, and being dead. Sometimes useless, and sometimes taken for granted. What if I became a non-living thing? What might have I missed? Would I be better and be who I am now?

How about experiencing the best relief when I found an oasis despite of chaos? How about the ecstasy of appreciating that I have someone by my side when everything seemed not to be alright? How about being part of the happiest and darkest moment of my family, of my friends, sharing with them my laughter and my tears? How about experiencing the joy when everything I worked hard for turned into a great success? How about the feeling kissing the one I truly love under the night sky, whispering affection under the moonlight? How about being showered by the peace of God and realizing that He is in charge?

How about experiencing the rush of adrenalin? How about enjoying the sensitivity when I feel my heart beating? How about losing my sanity when I am head over heels with somebody? How about falling in love and being complete? How about being warm and alive?

If I were a non-living thing, my life might have been easier, but would I be happier?

sasampahan mo ba ako ng kaso?

Dalawang taon na. Dalawang taon na kong palaboy laboy sa napakagandang recto para pumasok sa napakagandang unibersidad ng napakagandang republika ng Pilipinas. At ang daming pumapasok sa isip ko na malamang, sadyang hindi maganda.

Ano na? Nakuha ko na ang gusto kong course. Pinagaaralan ko ang mga gusto ko. Tapos ano na? Parang may kulang.

Gusto kong magsulat ng maraming maraming maraming salita, ng maraming maraming salita. Basta. Gusto kong magsulat.

Gusto kong magbasa ng maraming maraming libro. Lulunurin ko ang sarili ko ng maraming maraming libro hanggang sa matabunan na ang lahat ng mga ala-ala ko (drama?!). Kasi bonggang bongga yun. Bonggang bongga talaga yun.

Gusto kong magdrawing ng maraming marami. Idodrawing ko ang lahat ng emosyon na meron ako hanggang sa wala ng matira sakin. Ilalagay ko silang lahat sa puting papel hanggang sa balang araw titignan ko nalang sila at tatanungin sa sarili ko, “ano kaya ang peste nun?” at poof! wala na akong mararamdaman. Yipee!

Gusto kong kumain. Gusto kong gustuhing kumain. Yung tipong lalamon ako dahil GUSTO kong kumain.

Gusto kong mawala. Kahit isang linggo lang. Sige na. Please?

Gusto kong matutong makinig. Gusto kong makinig. Yun lang.

Gusto kong matutong magsalita. Oo, alam kong madaldal ako. Pero gusto ko pa rin magsalita. Magsalita. Magsalita ng may saysay naman at magmimistula akong intelehenteng nagaalok ng encyclopedia. Yung parang mga taong nagsasalita sa mall tapos maraming nakapalibot sa kanya habang pinanghihiwa niya ng prutas yung pinanghiwa niya ng yelo, ng tiles, ng bakal, ng kamay, etc.

Gusto kong maging makatotohanan. Hindi yung lahat ng emosyon dinidikit ko lang sa mukha ko. Parang robot. Parang makina. Automatic. Minsan walang kwenta.

Gusto kong mabuhay ng may dangal. Ng may puso. Ng may tamang pag-iisip. (kaechusan, kairita!)

Gusto kong maging normal. Kahit mga 50 years lang. Sige na. Please?

alive once again

Bubbly, everyone agreed that I was such a bubbly person. I was giggly, energetic, full of passion and everything. Positive and determined, I faced life with enthusiasm.

But that was before. Myself died.

I have been through a lot of changes and I became a different person. Someone that had gone too far, that I no longer understand, someone that seemed to be a stranger and was detached from its own being.

And why on earth did I change?

Rejection and despair, I felt them when someone in my life who I truly loved chose to break my heart. The pain was so intense because of all people in this world; this someone has been a part of me all my life. And it was such heartache, I felt like nobody, undeserving to be fought for and to be laid down a sacrifice. I felt so little, not living, merely existing beneath my skin.

Through hard times, I learned many things. Insensitivity became my defense because I believed that people would stop hurting me if I do not let them to. I isolated myself, no, I isolated my feelings from myself. And a point came that I felt nothing anymore because I cared no more. It did not matter to me if people close to me would leave me, it did not matter at all. I did not care if people would come in and out of my life, I did not care at all. And as time went by, I grew colder that I became bitter to everyone, and I tended to hurt the people who loved me. And time came that this coldness tended to hurt me too.

Life has been truly hard, healing was cruel. I became afraid of relationships because I have the tendency to depend on the people I commit to. And my fear is, when I became deeply connected with them, they might leave me helpless and broken. So I tried to detach myself from everyone and withdraw every time I felt the urge to stay to someone’s company. I became selfish; I just cared for my own feelings.

And I was not happy. My frozen heart killed me over and over again. This was not what I wanted. As days passed, I tend to lose myself more and more. God did not give me this life to play safe and imprison myself for I fear pain. I was such a coward for standing still, I was groping for answers, yet, I stubbornly held on to my past. Life, I guess, would be happier if I started taking risks once again. What’s the point of hating? Cold hearts are only for dead people, and the good news is, I am fully alive.

It’s about taking chances, moving on and on. I would not be who I am now if I did not learn to surrender my entire burden to my God. I can never take these things all by myself. Life’s battle is continuous; it does not stop every time I fall. I have to learn to pick up the pieces of my shattered dreams and fall in love with my messy life and make it beautiful once again.

Then you will call, and the Lord will answer,

You will cry for help, and He will say:

Here am I.

Isaiah 58:9

fixated.

For quite a long time, my heart learned to beat. Fast, and faster. Sweaty hands, upset stomach, and a tied tongue, hilarious I might say. I never imagined how things turned unexpectedly, all I knew, in a blink of an eye, dub-dub, dub-dub, I was infatuated, deeply infatuated.

The feeling grew, and I hated it. For two big reasons, I could not feed this undying infatuation. And my goal was to FORGET and MOVE FORWARD. I tried hard and consumed a lot of time for my stupid heart was reluctant to take this goal.

Years passed.

Mission failed, for how I loved thinking about him, fantasizing, reminiscing, reminiscing and reminiscing over and over again. I kept on building castles in the air, enjoying every picture I knitted in the deepest of my imagination. How I loved to be mesmerized by thoughts of him running in my mind, truly and deeply, I was so into him, driving me crazy, invading my sanity.

Infatuated.

I entertained the temptation. I did not care whether how bad it would make me feel when it became a habit or lose myself in time; all I knew was it indeed made me ecstatic. The feeling was indeed wonderful, though at the back of my mind I knew it was not healthy. Merely thinking about him made me felt human and alive (owz?!). My longing for him was satisfied as I welcomed thoughts of him, and I was indeed enjoying every picture forming in my mind.

Fixation and regression were my defense mechanism. I guess.

And I never imagined how this defense would be a success. These past few days, I realized how things changed. This ridiculous infatuation faded, my feeling died down, though it would always be him (my first infatuation ever), I knew, the feeling of wanting him was not that strong anymore. Insignificant as it might seem to others, overcoming this stupid feeling was really a great thing for me for I had been struggling for a long time to kill this growing stupidity.

One thing I am still not sure about, is it really over?

abangan ang susunod na kasambahay

November 2006. Umalis ang nanay ko.



Nagsimula ang pakikipagsapalaran ng mga kasama-sa-bahay(maid) sa aming buhay.



Unang kasambahay. (Nov. – Dec. 2006): 25 years old na nanggaling sa malayong baryo ng Pangasinan. Pinaulam kami ng isdang may sabaw na purong suka na hindi naming masikmura(hmmm sarap asim). Walang ginawa kundi sumagot ng sumagot sa tatay ko. May SARILING sistema at batas sa loob ng aming bahay. Fired!



Pangalawang Kasambahay. (January 2006): 17 years old. Apat na araw ang itinagal. Mabait na bata pa naman, naglalagay ng kanin at ng apple sa freezer. Plunging neckline at spaghetti strap ang wardrobe. Aba’y ayaw niyang mamalantsa dahil papangit daw ang kanyang kamay. Ayun, sinundo ng kuya.



Ikatlong Kasambahay. (Nalimutan ko na basta hanggang bago magMarch): 60 years old (oo ganun kami kadesperado!!) Napamahal na sa amin ang kaawa-awang matanda. Pinauwi na namin siya sa Pampanga dahil sa kanyang sakit na hypertension at arthritis. At isa pa, ayokong nakakakita ng senior citizen na naglalaba at namamalantsa, e parang lola ko na siya, nakakaawa na. Isang madramang pamamaalam. (hikbi)



Sa loob ng maraming maraming maraming araw, ako ang naging kasambahay. Kamusta naman yun. Pumapasok ako sa school. Ako ang nagluluto, naglalaba(nagkataon pang nasira ang lintik na washing machine na kulang nalang e ibaon ko sa init ng ulo), namamlantsa, naglilinis ng bahay, naghuhugas ng pinggan, nagsasampay, nagaayos ng kama, nagtitiklop ng natuyong sampay, nagbubugaw ng langaw(huh?) Sa kabutihang palad hindi ako nakapaglinis ng C.R. (kadir) Pumayat ang tatay ko at kapatid ko, wag ka na magtanong kung bakit dahil ako ang nagluluto. Isang beses, pinirito ko ang sayote. Nagluto ng burger steak na naglasang inihaw na talong, nagprito ng isda na hindi mo na makilalala sa karumaldumal na massacre, at nagprito ng manok na tatlong beses kong binalik sa kawali hanggang sa nasunog na dahil sa talamak na bwisit na dugo.



Ikaapat na Kasambahay (nalimutan ko na rin): 20+ years old. Isang linggo ang itinagal ng nagpaasang kasambahay.



Sa totoo lang hindi ko maintindihan kung anong trip nila, pambihira. Samantalang hindi naman kami nangangain at naninigaw ng kasambahay. Pwede naman nilang kainin ang buong ref. naming at lahat ng pangangailangan ay libre namang binibigay. Nagsimula akong mainis. Pareparehas sila. Naisip ko kung kami yung tipo ng among mga nangangain at nanggagalaiti sa galit na parang halimaw lang, siguro naman matatakot na silang umalis. Kung umasta sila parang kasuklamsuklam ang mga ugali namin.



Ikalimang Kasambahay (may short term memory talaga ako): 40+ years old Halos tatlong buwan din siyang nakatiis sa pambihirang pamilya. Ayos na sana, wala ng problema. Nagkaroon daw ng away sa lupa sa kanilang probinsya, ayun nagresign. Sayang, akala ko iba na siya sa kanila. Sabi ko na nga ba pareparehas lang sila. Mangiiwan (bitter?!).

At isang araw paggising ko nalaman ko sa isang paparazzi na nabuntis pala siya ng

kanyang mapusok na boypren. Lupeeeet. Grabe. Wala akong masabi. Intense.



Ikaanim na Kasambahay (Oct.- December): Oo may ikaanim pa. Nakaanim na kasambahay kami sa loob ng isang taon. Pusta, hindi siya magtatagal (MWAHAHAHAHA) sigurado kong di magtatagal ang batang to. 19 years old. Unang araw pa lang niya, nanghiram na siya kaagad sa akin ng cellphone. Hanggang sa dumating ang araw na nablock na ang sim ko (wha ang saya!) di ko alam kung paano niya ginawa yun, basta nakakabad trip. Isang beses inubusan niya ko ng almusal (kung bakit kasi tanghali ako gumising), pinakain ng panis na ulam ang kapatid ko, at nanunuod ng t.v. buong araw. (siya nga ang amo). Isang araw…

“(pangalan niya), nasaan na ung conditioner ko?” sabi ko.

“Wala na, ubos na kaya, ung shampoo na nga lang ang ginagamit ko eh” sagot niya.

“Nasa bahay ka lang nagcoconditioner ka pa?”

“E matigas ang buhok ko e.”



Umiinom rin siya ng shampoo. Hindi ko alam kung paano magkaroon ng ganung talent.

Sinungkit niya ang alkansya ng kapatid ko. Tiklo.

Ikapitong Kasambahay (January-January): Isang linggo. Parang nagbakasyon lang. Nakakatamad ng ikwento ang mga detalye. Aysus.

Ikawalong Kasambahay (January-January): Dalawang linggo. Parang nagpalipas oras lang din. Nagkasakit daw ang nanay. Thank you sa inyo.

Mabuhay ang mga kasambahay.

panapanahon

16 years ago, the only thing that makes me upset is my broken tooth. As years pass by and as things change so fast, the reason that makes me cry is no longer because of an aching tooth, but my broken heart.

When I was in my early childhood, I did not care on what others think and feel about me. I could shout and cry whenever and wherever. Friends were taken for granted, playmates were just playmates, and nobody else mattered, just me and my self.

And now, as time goes on and on, I feel different.

Did things change? Or was it only me?

What I hate of being an adolescent is you’re expected of something, something that you might not want to do, and could not do. Opinions, whether I like it or not, greatly affect my life, and I damn hate it. Judgments from different kinds of people unconsciously grew inside me that I was not able to notice that it changed me in a way. I became a victim of sensitivity. Being compared, oh, disgustingly hate it.

Relationships were the very reason for my broken heart. It was hard for me to take care of a relationship, how could I? I could not even take good care of my own heart. I missed the days when I was young, when I fought with my friend; all were forgotten the next day, as if nothing happened, we became friends again, no reconciliation, no explanation. For me, damaged relationships were one of the hardest things to mend in life, it may be like an endless argument with your dad, an awful misunderstanding with your mom, a serious quarrel with a friend, an awkward break up with your partner, they seemed not to end, and history was repeating itself. Commitments tend to cause deep heartaches that may last for a long time. It can never be recovered in just a day, healing sometimes require a more painful effort and time that you do not know if it will be worth a shot.

17 years of struggling, this is what I am now, confused and pained. Just recently, I was so thankful that God is in charge of what I am not supposed to fuss about; He’ll let me get through with my difficulties. Being an adolescent was never easy. I tend to try hard to get the approval of the people around me, but I just realized that it’s not about them; it’s about pleasing my God. Though it will always be hard for me to understand every painful thing that I encounter, life can always be more than what I imagined.

sana lang

A loss once hurt my heart and I started to be afraid to open up my heart for something anew. Defeats come in and out of my life that I was not able to notice they had caused damage in and out of me. I was trying to escape by hiding and I started to stop myself to desire for more.

Dreams were part of my life; I was extremely a dreamer with wild imaginations. Nonetheless, every dream not achieved squeezed my heart and later left me seriously wounded. I had big and seemingly impossible dreams but as each one of them fall and remained unfulfilled, and so as I fall into heartache and then find myself too upset to fantasize again.

I started to hate the people around me thinking that they were the very reasons why I could not achieve my desires. Material possessions, academic satisfactions, emotional harmonies, and spiritual delights, all of them I tried to achieve at the same time. Soon after, I learned to be selfish; I started living for my own purposes.

There were so many things I could not understand, or I might say I could not accept. As time went by, situations in my life seemed to be worst and I got nowhere to run to, was I alone?

Things tricked me; I thought that no one would ever be there for me. No one would be willing to accept me as I am, no one, I supposed would ever learn how to love the real me. Self-pity as I understood.

My dreams were shattered, my heart was broken, and my mind was running dry. Where were all my plans? Had they forsaken me? Now I could not think of anything more. Now I desired nothing but happiness, I started thinking quitting my ambitious plans; instead there was nothing that I yearned for but pure gladness.

As I expected, things would not be easy as I wanted them to be. I was drained, awfully drained. My life was a real mess; I just could not take away everything out and live as if nothing had happened. This intricacy seemed to affect my life, and I hated it. I apparently did not want to be controlled by the difficulties that were making fun of me. I did not have any idea what to do next, I did not know whether to sought help and touch the hand of a someone, or just simply keep this confusion inside me. I wanted intimacy but I could not get out of this junk, I was definitely not ready for any kind of commitment, but I knew inside myself, my heart was crying for such intimacy.

To trust was my greatest goal that I was so hopeless to achieve. I could trust no one for I experienced extreme heartaches with the people I deeply loved. Life was complicated; I understood nothing and indeed fun no more.

Some people were trying to be part of my life, making an effort to accept who I am, but I just could not welcome them into my life. I was afraid. I was afraid to hurt someone who was willing to love and care for me. I no longer cared for what I feel, because now, what mattered for me most was how others would feel. And every simple thing was hard for me. I wanted companions, friends, relationships, but something seemed to hinder me from reaching out. Was it fear? Doubt? Confusion? Pride? Callousness? I did not know.

No man is an island, but I was an island. I was groping for answers, all my mind had been questions. My dreams, they were gone, I was alone. I could not get up anymore. To stand up was seemingly impossible; I could never reach my dreams now that I have no one in my life, now that I threw everyone out of my life. Dreams I buried, all I wanted was someone who would understand me, someone who would be by my side, someone who I could run to, someone for real. But no one knew I need someone, for I had been too hard for everyone. I rejected them all.

But inside me, a little of me wanted them to stay. I just wanted them to break the callousness in my heart no matter how hard I tried to push them away. I was yearning for attention, and for importance. Somehow, I just wanted to feel special.