my dumb question!

Does loving someone require knowing that someone really, really well?

in trance

I am in a trance.

Staring straight ahead, I walk on. I am aware of people around me, I see them yet I sense that they live in another dimension. And that I am in a separate one, where only I exist. I see and feel their presence, yet there is an invisible barrier that separates them from me. I interact with them, but there is a defined detachment, allowing me to show only a small part of the I that exists. They try to break through the barrier but the barrier is indestructible.

I feel the weariness of every step, yet a lightness emanates from some vague feeling of anticipation. But it is not certain. It could just as well be dread.

And yet, the lightness stays, infiltrating every cell of my body. It tries to make itself known, it attempts to surface, but the I that exists gently pushes it back.

I carry on. In my protective trance. Where only I exist.

...

Some quotes from The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera:

We can never know what to want, because, living only one life, we can neither compare it with our previoius lives nor perfect it in our lives to come.

There is no means of testing which decision is better, because there is no basis for comparison. We live everything as it comes, without warning, like an actor going on cold. And what can life be worth if the first rehearsal for life is life itself? That is why life is always like a sketch. No, "sketch" is not quite the word, because the sketch is an outline of something, the groundwork for a picture, whereas the sketch that is our life is a sketch for nothing, an outline with no picture.

bull

Is it possible to completely be yourself anywhere, with anyone, and with any given situation?

Is there anyone out there who is completely, with all honesty, himself regardless of the situation?

Be yourself. Most used advice ever. Total bull. :D

over a cup of coffee

There we were at Mocha Blends, me sipping a piccolo glass of Mocha Malt Adoration, and him enjoying a glass of Mocha malt something or or the other. I can't remember what made me mention good and evil but that's when the argument started. He said that there is no good nor evil in this world, that good and evil just came from the dictates of society, that when the world started out, there was nothing good nor evil, everything just is. I vehemently disagreed. I believe that there are some things innate in this world, and as intelligent human beings that we are, we have that instinctive knowledge on what good and evil is. But he believes otherwise. He argued that the good vs evil judgment is just something that society imposed on mankind.

I agree that society may have imposed a lot of norms and beliefs but my question is, where did man base his judgment? What made him decide that such a thing or an act is good or evil?When somene punches your face, you feel pain, and you know that that pain is bad because you don't like the feeling of pain. I don't think pain is something that has to be dicated by anyone, for you to know that pain is bad. It's something you know instinctively. In the same way that we instinctively know that killing someone is evil. It's because we have that innate desire to preserve life, because we ourselves also have that innate desire to preserve our own lives.

He says that I should read Conversations with God 1 for me to understand his point. If it will answer the question, What made man decide that something is good/something is evil?, then maybe I'll be convinced. But for now, as long as no one can answer that question, I stand by my belief that there is good and evil in this world, and that man's knowledge of it is something instinctive and innate.

random thoughts

There should be some kind of alarm in our body that will go off everytime you seem to be doing the same stupid mistake that you've committed before. The alarm should be something like a sudden small writing on your forehead that will appear saying "STOP! Don't go there again!" Or probably, your arm will suddenly hit your head when the alarm goes off, like a reflex action. This alarm isn't really to let you know that you're about to commit the same mistake again. Fact is, we KNOW. Problem is, we don't want to acknowledge that we know. We pretend that we don't, shrug off that built-in alarm in our mind, and continue going towards the pending stupidity. The alarm would just be a firmer reminder, a splash of cold water on our stubborn heads, not to commit the same mistake again.

***** I wonder if other people's lives are a seeming vicious cycle like mine. *****

I can't believe it. There is actually some sense left in me. Wow. After everything that was. After the gazillion resolutions and promises that I've made. Wow.

i'm back!!!

I haven't been writing lately because a lot of things have been going on and if I give you a retaliation of all of them, this page is not enough! Anyways, it's good to be back in circulation!

So where shall I start? Tah... Tah... Tah...

I want to write about a lot of things but I don't feel like writing. (how ironic!) I feel that I won't do justice to the things I will write about if I write now. I am feeling so nothing, so blah. Neither sad nor happy. Like I'm looking at everything that's happening to me in a detached kind of way. Unfeelingly seeing each day fly by. Wanting to sometimes shout or just laugh out loud just for the heck of it, but not being able to. Wanting to sometimes just stare into space and think of everything and nothing at the same time. Wanting to resist falling into vertigo but realizing that it won't really matter. Wanting to convince myself that everything's alright but knowing deep inside that everything's a lie.

blah!

Something that made me think these past few days...

Our deepest fear is not that we are
inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are
powerful beyond measure.
It is our light,
not our darkness that most frightens us.

We ask ourselves,
Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented,
fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be?

You are a child of God.

Your playing small does not serve the world.
There is nothing enlightened about shrinking
so that other people won't feel insecure around
you

We
are all meant to shine, as children do.

We were born to make manifest
the glory of God that is within us.
It is
not just in some of us; it is in everyone.

And as we let our own light
shine,
we unconsciously give other people
permission to do the same.
As we are
liberated from our own fear,

our presence automatically
liberates others.

~Marianne Williamson,A Return to Love: Reflections on the Principles of "A Course in Miracles", 1992(commonly misattributed to Nelson Mandela, 1994 inauguration speech)

===

ok, naked truth! i'm getting pissed these past few days. pissed about my already due TIER/IETR Certification which continues to wrack my nerves, pissed about not being ableto brush up on my reading, pissed about sleeping all day and working all night and not being able to spend time thinking about a lot of personal things, pissed about other people being oblivious to other people's needs, pissed about almost everything! my life would be for the dogs if it weren't for this small portion of sanity glued to me. i just wanna go "blah" 'coz there really isn't anything left for me to do.

pains...

Here they go again. The pains. So much sadness. No space for happiness.

When I was a kid, I never experienced how it is play with other kids getting dirt all over me and still smile in glee. I never experienced how it is to spend the whole day just laughing sheepishly at anything. My childhood was confined inside the four corners our house reading books not appropriate for my age, burning my eyebrows for exams, and trying to be a straight A student. Failure to be on top is tantamount to my mom's lashing whips and verbal daggers. Just think of all sorts of hurtful words that a kid could be called and think that I’ve been labeled that. Conjure up all kinds of humiliation and embarrassment that could befall a kid and imagine that they all happened to me. Perhaps some would say I’m exaggerating, but that’s how it felt like. The pleas and tears never moved my mom. I had cuts, contusions and lacerations. With all the strength that my 6-year old heart could muster, I tried to swallow all the insults that were thrown at me, act as if everything’s okay, and keep my grief to myself. But still they were wounds that never healed.

But to some extent, that proved more devastating to my character. I got so used to suppressing pain that even though the trauma brought about by those fateful years remains with me ‘til now, I still couldn’t bring myself to talk about all that happened to anyone. Despite the knowledge that talking about stuff that hurt you could be therapeutic, I still could not openly discuss it to people who aren't close to me. And there is perhaps nothing worse than feeling so low, yet scared that no one will ever understand.

You know how pathetic I used to feel? There were moments when I looked at myself in the mirror and cried because I did not like what I saw. At a very young age, I learned to asked if I was indeed the daughter of God, if i was indeed my mom's child or why was I ever born anyway? Even when I have achieved so much, there were instances when I felt like I was not entitled to certain things because my competence didn’t measure up. I denied myself of opportunities because there were times when the fear of rejection was just too much. I tried to tell myself it’s over and that, being also disturbed of her marriage with my father, my mom then probably weren’t aware of the possible repercussions of her actions. But I must admit that it was very difficult to get over the trauma. I know this is no excuse, but if you’ve had your mom pointing out all your faults and pounding on your head that you are incompetent every single day of your childhood… well, you just can’t help but believe her. Indeed, all the events that took place during those years were the major source of my biggest insecurities.

I let myself wallow in misery and self-pity for quite a great deal of time. Every disappointment and every failure that came my way were attributed to the events that happened in during those years with my mom because they caused the discomfort that I felt about myself. On the outside I looked smug and confident, but inside I was shaky, and scared, and bitter.

However, one can only take so much self-flagellation. It came to a point that I got so saturated with my own loneliness that I had to finally set my foot down and tell myself that enough is enough. My mom left the country and I was left to stage my life in the matter I wanted it to be. Determined to get all my thoughts back in perspective, I made room for major, and daily, introspection. Day after day, I made progress as I continuously recounted all the blessings that were bestowed upon me. I then reached the conclusion that all the things I lack really do pale in comparison to all that I already have. I was suddenly aware of all my strengths, my capabilities, and the abundant possibilities that lay before me. With that newfound mindset, I was certain then that it will take more than just sneers and ridicule to get me down or make me think badly about myself again.

I must admit that there are still days when negative thoughts threaten to overwhelm me. Like an hour ago, I cried infront of MJ, feeling incompetent and all because I was served an FA for reasons that are deemed unacceptable to me. Nonetheless, after thinking it over, I am also consoled by my belief that what happened was as much a test of trust as it was of strength. Despite being badly burned, I should never lose faith in the natural goodness of life and my ability to make things better for myself. I shold constantly endeavor to improve and never let my spirit stagnate or stunt in growth. Surges of excitement course through me whenever I think that there are still many roles to play, heights to reach, lives to touch… and I cannot afford to waste any more time.

Until now, I am still terrified by the prospect of meeting failures. Still, I am also thinking that it serves as both a challenge and an opportunity for me to prove to people this adage: there is more to me than meets the eye. And every time someone says, "you'll be fine." "you'll heal soon!" or "things will be better for you!", more is chipped off of the emotional baggage that weighed me down for years. Things like that further reinforce my conviction that, despite my frailties and imperfections, I am still pretty content with what I was born with. A little more time and I will be completely healed of all the wounds that that particular adversity had left behind.

I can hardly wait.

By the simple things that occured to me lately, I somehow realized that it is always very easy to sulk and blame natural circumstances or other people for our troubles. But unless you want to live in bitterness and anger for the rest of your life, that’s not the way to go. Remember that although it’s true that other people have the power to hurt us, we likewise have the power to let ourselves heal and move on. We may not have control over our surroundings or what other people will think or say about us, but we do have control over our own thoughts and actions. We are never really totally hopeless. And that, for me, is the most important thing.

Everytime I look back to those difficult times, I think about how much I’ve grown over the past years. Now I realize that growing up does not really mean being numb or free of all pain. In fact, growing up entails more hurt, greater pain, and bigger sufferings. But it also means seeing the lessons that come with every tragedy and being able to get your self back together after being broken. And the moment one realizes all this is perhaps the biggest turning point in the process of growing up.

Like what I've been telling MJ lately, "I think it's time to do a paradigm shift!"

"Life, the ruthless, relentless teacher, expects us to learn by half-killing us.” - Anonymous

36B

Don't ask me but there are times us, women, do tend to complain too much. Too fat. Boobs too big. I, for one, have this bout of complaining about not finding men whom I am attracted to. Hehe.

Therefore, I am not an exception to my race. It's a favorite pastime, I guess, especially for us women. We feel like we're this darn primadonna who is God's gift to men and we don't have an ounce of flaw in our body. That we should be perfect! So in the end, we tend to be too harsh on ourselves.

I used to be harsh on myself. That is, until I learned that the world reflects how I see it. Meaning, "if I give it shit, it gives me back shit"! As simple as that. My moods affect the way I see my world. The way I see my world, affects the way I am.

So it naturally behooves me when I read something from somebody of the same tribe as I am who starts to criticize her own body. Why do some women problematize too much about their boobs?

I HAVE BIG BOOBS!!! They are 36 Cup Bs! And I’ve never had issues about men not respecting me or my body. Or maybe I'm just lucky?

Oh sure, it has been the butt of some jokes. Dako man jud pod sya! The more you become defensive about it, the more they'd gang up on it. But if you've already accepted boobs as part of your body, it really does not matter. Joey Tribbiani of Friends once said that women are so lucky they've got boobs, "All they have to do is look down and it's there."

Men would of course be eternally fascinated with women's boobs because they are flat-chested! It's the eternal longing for something that you don't have. Maybe if men started growing boobs, they would have nothing else to do all day but to fondle them. At least for the first few days until they get used to it.

They don't have boobs but it occupies about 80% of their brains. Look at what they do with their penises! So maybe it's a good thing they don't have bigger boobs, that way they still get most of their work done.

Besides, how can you distinguish the males from the females if everybody has bumps on their chests? Do we start touching even mere acquaintances below their belts? Oopsie! Got bumps, you're male! It's flat! You're female. So, thank God for boobs!

I’ve never had problems with respect just because my boobs are big. Sure, it can be the main focal point of attention for some. But I have great legs so they could look at that too! I have a great personality so they quit staring at my chest. And it probably helps that I have an interesting face.

A friend of mine mentioned that when men look at a woman in bikini, it's not just the boobs that make her attractive. It's more of the aura of self-confidence that she exudes. And according to him, that's what they find sexiest in a woman.

Therefore, confidence on a woman is even better than boobs.

whew!

utter disbelief!

I exhausted all my efforts to avoid her on the sly. Seeing her would mean that I am obliged to talk to her. I need to act as if I wasn't at all affected with what happened. When I get to have the chance to avoid her, I did. But 3 hours ago, I didnt have the choice. She was there, right infront of me. She wore this red shirt looking all cute and all.

And all I could muster was a faint "Hi, kumusta?"

Whew! Is there a pharmacy who sells drugs for forgetting and moving on?

this one's for you!

Dear M,

So maybe what I'm feeling right now is it. Maybe it is indeed what they claim to be love although I hoped to heavens that this isn't yet: even just for a split second when we text, or during that moment when I hear your angelic and soulful voice, or the time when I laughed at one of your silly quirks. I'd be content with that idea, I'd be content that in the course of our friendship, there was a moment of mutuality; even if it was so quick I never noticed it at all.

It occurred to me again, this time in the middle of procrastinating against answering all the questions by the representatives on the floor. I kept you safe within the remote areas of my consciousness, but suddenly, as if driven by an unknown force, your memory unearths itself, returning some sort of unfinished business. Consequently, I pause from doodling on something and I start thinking about you.

And it always left me a touch of sadness.

As far as I'm concerned, I make it a point not to think about you anymore, at least not that often as I used to, in the form of preoccupation. There are a lot of things to do, friends to spend time and energy with, team affairs, television, radio, internet. There's even a new object of affection in the rough. Works for the most part, I should say. Within the confines of the office with papers and flyers before me, there is forgetting.

Just like the manner by which ice cubes freeze bacteria within their crystal networks. As long as they remain frozen, everything's safe. There is no need to worry.

But somehow, you still manage to permeate my system, as if it were an expertise or a tediously learned skill. Moment by moment, you profusely enter my mind, filling my awareness with lost memories of once-upon-a-times and whatnots. Remembrances of sweet messages, exchanges of "take cares" and phone calls. Of yesterday's seemingly unbreakable promises and proclamations of forever.

I should've put into mind what an old friend said, "Forever is not real."

I have always yearned to understand what has happened between us. "Us" won't even suffice: it was never a real relationship to begin with. It was a pseudo relationship so to speak... We just enjoyed each other's wits and I, basically loved the thought of having a friendship that was borne out of mystery. Sometimes it pained me that I could not do anything in my power to make myself fight for us. Certainly, the ambiguity was present, the ambiguity which you never wanted to clarify.

You could only let me go on with whatever it was that I desired, whether it be ranting about my insecurities, rejoicing over happier news or lamenting about my eventful past. Yeah, you became my soundboard. On the other side, you remained silent in the middle of my hyped-up emotion. But you know what, above all those rants, I was like a child with beaming eyes, eager to hear more stories of how you came about to be the person that you are. I wanted to know more about you. EVERYTHING there is to know about you.

Yet when it was time to really get serious about things and feelings were ready to he heard, the silence was a void. I suspended my disbelief when I convince myself that you always meant well. Whenever you apologized for there was nothing you can do about my bouts of depression or when you simplify things by saying "Mag inOA jud diay. Unsa may imong mahimo ana?" I know I should not expect things from other people; perhaps I was at fault when I wanted more from you when you've already given so much of you.

And just like that you vanished, very much like a soap bubble floating across air. You found another person and I was left alone. I have looked up to you in complete awe, wonder and even fascination. And similar to any ethereal fleeting moment, you were gone, leaving me clueless as to whether you even existed in the first place.

Perhaps I really like you, but that won't do much now. I can fight to save everything that I've invested, but I chose not to. I have treasured you in the past, and that will be enough. Right now, all I can do is wish you well in all your endeavors, including the pursuit for the one who is right for you. When you find her, I wish she makes you happy. You make her happy as well.

The end is only a beginning disguised as a parting. I will still think about you every now and then, probably be sad once in a while, but you need not to worry. (as if ma affected pod ka da!) For I am okay and I will be okay under all circumstances. It may take time for me to love again, but in the long run, it will be all worth it. I may still risk myself, but every risk in its own respect is worth taking anyway. Love is such a convoluted mixture of emotions and decisions that it's a matter of working your way through it.

Thank you for gracing my life like a whirlwind, leaving me breathless and hurt, inspired and furious, affectionate and listless. You've taught me quite a lot and I learned them in the most humbling manner. Thank you for showing me what it means to be human, to commit mistakes, and to discover how to regain yourself after everything that had happened.

From experience, I know that forgetting is one of the hardest things to do. More so if it is against the will of one's mind and heart. Maybe someday I'll learn to forget you, and how it felt to almost have you. Maybe someday you'll forget about me, and the sheer complexity and beauty of the jokes, texts, phone calls and words that we once shared. Maybe then we will be reminded of this story, our story, and think that love was never meant to be ours. Never was, never will be...

Like what I always say, "Ad astra per aspera." A rough road leads to the stars.
I'm on my way to becoming stellar.

wav yah always,
Anne

:)

I was looking for souvenirs to give some people when I chanced upon a little card that said:

I made a wish.
You came true.

aw.... this is so sweet... :)

rants

Last night, I was contemplating about "S"; of how and his current love might end up together. Although eternal bliss can only be attained in as far as the mind can reach when it comes to "gay relationships" I know, that we might end up with the same, cruel fate.

I will always think that I’ve bled myself dry, but in truth, I will forever be an unfathomable well of strength. I even shared this reverie with "S" earlier. I half-jokingly asked him if he was willing to be a sperm donor if ever I was not to marry. "What a wonderful thought" -- we buried ourselves in mirth. A child with beauty and intellect! Hahaha! Luv you, 'ring!

As for thoughts on when will it ever be my turn to break someone's heart? Well, I don't dwell in that sorry little place anymore for I know that that person will never be me. I was created to do grander things, so there! Random Thoughts:

• I am not a strict Catholic but I am so thankful to God, he gave me real friends. They are everything that is lacking in my life – a smile during forlorn moments, a healthy debate, an intellectual conversation, and a dissertation on human horniness.
• I am lucky to be good friends with all my exs’.
• I am happy to have met Mylyn – one of the truest people I’ve ever met.
• Writing will always be my sanctuary.
• Reading is for those with insatiable thirst for knowledge.
• I'm right, "S"! Walay Polar Bear sa South Pole! Wehehe!
• Ganahan ko moapil sa Game Ka Na Ba. Pramis!
• No more crying. Period!
• I want to be content. But I can’t when I’m destined for greater things! (bwahahahahaha.. feeler!)

black and white

How can I close my eyes when I am this upset?!

I am weary of man always being ugly to his fellows, of the gardener obsessively compulsive about growing weeds, of a single carnation plucked from a bed of roses, of bees buzzing simply because they are intended to and it is their nature.

I want peace. 'Tis my time for healing. But slowly, as I descend upon a shallow grave I am beckoned like a restless spirit to roam and wonder why man, by nature is full of discontent.

A panda told a tourist who wants to take its picture, "Okay, go ahead. But I want it in black and white."

To my true friends who've always known me to be the cream and and jet black panda with a streak of jade (or mint green, if that is how you want to put it), thank you for never judging me.

Why man does it, is a thought I will forever ponder. All the answers in the world have made me deaf.

Why, I wonder, someone never opens his mouth during times of destitution, is a question not based on morality but of real friendship. Friends tell, even if uttering it means oblivion.

And that is why, those who have no weight whatsoever on my happiness, may very well continue on their predicament. I am still me to my friends. And that is what's important.