This Side Up

Fragile.

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When you were a kid, did you ever wonder what that drawing of a broken glass on big packages meant? I was always intrigued by that particular symbol and the word accompanying it: FRAGILE.

I always looked for that symbol every time I see a new box of whatever my parents bought or got from someone. But only a few things had that like a box of wine glasses – which made me think that all the glasses inside were broken due to the similarity of the symbol with the content – or things that are not resistant to shock. So due to the confusion, I looked it up in the dictionary – yes, unfortunately, I loved the dictionary since I was a kid.

Flipped to the page where the letter F starts, looked for f-r…f-r-a…f-rag…frag-ile! Fragile; an adjective that refers to something that is easily broken. It became one of the words I liked best. After a few years, I was finally able to apply it to myself. I am fragile.

…

I am a self-proclaimed introvert but a very bad one. I’m not very good at being one because I’m such a shallow well that once you start fetching water, you would be able to extract all of it out. I’m that simple, yes. Once people start asking me, I give out answers. I’m not the type of person who initiates, though. But I do share when I am asked to if I am comfortable with the one who asked. It’s really easy to know me because I do not hide much. I just don’t spill automatically.

That’s how easy it is for people to break my shell. I guess some people know that because they use it to their advantage. There are those people who try their best to open you up so that they would easily gain your trust, yet their major intention is to break it when they have it. Maybe that’s how a clam feels when humans forcibly open their shells to get their pearls and just leave them broken after. Well, at least my shell is figurative because that would definitely hurt.

…

I always wanted to try being the bad guy sometimes. I mean, I know people always assumed me to be the cutie-patootie type, or the childish type, or the good-little-boy type because of my image – due to the slow aging of my earthly body – but I wanted to be someone else. I tried doing, saying, achieving, and everything-else-ing things others wouldn’t believe I would. Like after joining a certain group, everyone I know couldn’t believe. Some didn’t even believe it until they finally saw it with their own eyes. It’s hard to maintain an image that people put upon you because it is not the image you created yourself. No matter how hard you try to show them this is you, they would still stick with the image they associated with you.

It’s scary when people try to see you differently. It’s more frightening when they actually see you as someone else. It’s kind of heartbreaking.

…

I was always the frail kid when I was younger. I couldn’t even count by my fingers how many times in a day I fall, trip, scar, roll, bump…(the list goes on) myself. That’s how fragile I was. But I definitely grew out of that special skill of not avoiding accidents easily by now. I wonder when I’ll get to overcome this fragility of my persona and my heart…

P.S. Maybe I should try putting a red sign on my clothes like what Emma Stone did in Easy A, but I’ll be putting a fragile sign like that of a package instead of the letter A. Probably people would know what it means when they try to handle me, right?

Now I Know: A Letter

Browsing along my pictures folder…nope…none…

Clearing my drawers and cabinets up…nope…couldn’t find one…

Looking at my old phone’s pictures…nope…nothing…

Checking my old wallets…nope…not one…

Then I see my closet. I see your old gifts, your letters addressed to me, some of my unsent letters addressed to you, your drawing which you gave me as a parting gift, and all of the good old memories they once represented…except the latter one.

It is very intriguing that I only realized this today. It’s funny because it has been 4 years, 4 months and 6 days since the parting of our ways, and it is just now that I have realized why I couldn’t move on with what we had before.

I’m the type who stops when I know there’s nothing to go for anymore. I give up easily if I know nothing comes out of whatever anymore. But why is it that until now, I still long for your return? I mean, are four years not enough for me to give up the fight and make me see that nothing will come out of it anymore? I guess not. And maybe a few more reasons.

I checked out the places and things in my room in which I would most probably keep something I would value very much like our relationship – or at least the things that represent them. Simply put, I tried to look for a picture of us to make me know that what happened four years ago was real and not just a dream I can’t forget. But there was none. Why is it so? Does it mean I just really dreamt of the more than five months we spent together? Has everything in my world gone surreal that I can’t distinguish dreams from reality? Have I gone mad like the Mad Hatter?

Apparently, that’s one reason why I couldn’t easily move on. We have no photos when we were together that I couldn’t have any other thing to look for except your presence. Instead of looking at your picture – OUR picture – and make myself believe we can only be together through that piece of paper, I see moving images of you and me in my mind; when I sleep, when I’m awake, when I live.

The absence of photographs of us has placed me in this world so surreal. I don’t know whether I should choose to wake up or keep dreaming that someday what we had before will become my reality again. I guess it just made me want to dream forever and live in this pseudo-world I created.

I do not hate the fact that I couldn’t move on because we didn’t have photographs. To tell you honestly, I loved it so much that I’m very grateful I still haven’t moved on from you. I know I may have tried looking away, but I still couldn’t do it permanently. I still look back. And then, I still long for that moment you would look back at me too…and smile like before.

P.S. I maybe too cheesy, but I just couldn’t stop dreaming of the possibility that we can still be.

Grinch-ier Attitude

I’ve noticed lately that ever since College, I notice less the coming of Christmas season. It’s like every time I hear people mentioning Christmas, or presents, or wish-lists, I tend to stop and think for a moment then ask myself, “What’s up with them?”

But then, I would change the question once it starts to hit me. What’s up with me? Am I the only person in the world who doesn’t know that Christmas is fast approaching?

I really don’t know if it’s just me or is it because of my coming of age or whatever process I’m undergoing. The point is I haven’t really been looking forward to celebrating Christmas anymore. Of course as a child, I was one of the millions who believe that Santa Claus exists. I always hanged a sock with my letter requesting for a toy or candies from Santa two months before Christmas day. Although I never left him any cookies and milk, I always got what I asked for. After realizing that Santa is just my parents in disguise, I stopped hanging my Christmas sock and stopped being excited about what present I will get under the Christmas tree.

Maybe it’s because I realized that Christmas is not just another excuse to get gifts or gain some cash. Ever since I started going to college, I’ve been preoccupied with things which are, let’s say, more practical. I’ve been gobbled up by schoolwork, my career in the future, friends, and extra-curricular activities that I have forgotten the usual routine I once had in my childhood every time the “ber” months arrive.

I guess it does come with age, the thrill of Christmas approaching is now gone because I have come to the moment in my life when I wouldn’t believe in Santa Claus anymore, there are no reindeer that fly, no surprise gift under the Christmas tree at Christmas morning, and magic does not exist.

… … …

I like Christmas. It’s the best and happiest season especially for kids. But I guess we need to see that once we grow up, we should know that it’s not merely about gifts and cash, but more of a special day of commemorating one of the most special icons we Christians believed in. Whether we are kids who love presents, or young adults who are always busy, we need to remember that Christmas is also a time for spending with your family and some moment with Jesus. Even though I don’t feel that Christmas is near I should still remember to celebrate it for the real essence why it is celebrated.

BABEL

I suppose we are all very familiar with the story of the Tower of Babel. A short re-telling: people wanted to reach God, He decided to divide them by confounding their languages, giving them different tongues; therefore, the tower wasn’t completed.

So what’s that got to do with me? Probably the first thing it has got to do with me is that I’m such a discontented person. I have this petty goal which is to learn five different languages; two Western and three Asian. Of course, I count my own language, Filipino, as one of them and then English. So I only have to learn three more, which I did. Since high school I was self-studying Japanese or Nihongo. When I got in college, I was able to learn basic Français and more Nihongo. Then I was able to find a friend who is from South Korea and taught me how to speak Korean or Hangul. Now by learning these languages I got very interested with the culture of those countries. I like to learn languages but whenever I start to study about them I become interested with the nations’ culture as well. I want to travel to Paris, Tokyo, London, and Seoul. It’s definitely a dream I want to achieve…and maybe I actually can as long as I get the support I need from the people I believe should support me.

Thus, going to my second point; I can’t believe that all the plans for my success is not supported by the ones whom I thought would always do. I’ve always been the kid who follows rules and does what is asked of me but I actually never did anything for myself. All those things I did to be what I am now (or at least until high school) are all for ‘their’ benefit. They are all the things ‘they’ want for me but not what I want for myself. I am not saying that I didn’t want the way they wanted me to be. I’m only saying that I am not given the chance to do what I want and what I know is right for me. It seems to me that I am always a kid through ‘their’ eyes. That’s the down side.

I want to learn how to become independent. Yes I know I still am dependent in terms of financial aspect but the experience of being able to decide for myself, being able to do things freely, being able to learn from my OWN mistakes and not from the mistakes ‘they’ did in their past. Would it not make me a better person if I learn things all on my own? ‘They’ should actually be pushing me up and not tearing me down. How sad it makes me to realize that I shall never learn to live my life without anyone controlling me. I can feel strings tied on me, telling me where to go and what to do. I feel like a Frankenstein of some sort, I have my own life but I do not have my own mind.

Being in control gives you a certain power over things. I would want that power over myself but apparently, ‘they’ have that control. I wish to learn more and improve myself more, but certain practical reasons are what hinder me. It is not that I do not understand ‘them’ but all I ask is for ‘their’ support. By simply knowing that I have ‘them’ on my back I would be confident enough to do the best I can to achieve all those goals in life, just like reaching the heavens through the tower at Babel.

credit for the image: http://zivcg.com/galleries/babylon/index.html

Half Empty, Half Full

I wonder why most of the people I know have very positive outlooks in life. It’s what they call seeing the glass half full. When everything fails, hope is never lost. Or if all hope is lost, there is something or someone out there to pick you up and push you through all the hardships you’ll face. It is quite amusing to think that many a people have that very same attitude that I actually know. What’s funny is I was never influenced.

I was their total opposite; I see the glass half empty. I do not look at the bright side. It’s definitely weird because I was always presumed to be a guy version of little-miss-sunshine (maybe they call me little-mister-sunshine). But I would have really called myself simply-emo-kid if I were them.

I still haven’t figured out the very root of all this negativity I have. Sometimes, I wonder what really happened to me in my nineteen years of existence that fashioned me this way. It is still a big mystery for me. Though, I do have some bits of memories which I presume to be little parts of that big reason why I am this way. I haven’t had a very child-worthy childhood. In my view now, what I have gone through when I was a kid was not what I really wanted but it’s my way of satisfying my family’s expectations of me. What did I really want then?

I don’t know exactly. That’s my dilemma for a long time now.

Is it good or bad seeing the glass half empty? I don’t really know. We couldn’t really generalize since people have their own opinions regarding things concerning personality and personal identity. If I tell you it’s good, many would have disagreed with me. Like I told you, most of the people I know are positive thinkers, optimistic beings. Unfortunately I am not one of them. I once told a friend who was my blockmate that I am 99.9% pessimistic and 0.1% less pessimistic. However, I did improve after a year turning that 0.1% to a 1%. Really now, I just couldn’t find where to put that optimism in my persona. This very blog post is a proof of my pessimism. I’m one big nega-bubble, a very impenetrable one if I may add. Other people’s optimism doesn’t get to me, I am not easily influenced. There were only a few optimists I know who were able to share some of their brightness to me. Yet, those positive moments I had didn’t last very long. I also am a bit strong being a nega-bubble. I tend to suck in other people in my big bubble of negativity in very depressing situations. I can easily influence people with my pessimism especially in times when they feel very low and inferior. Mind you, I do try to cheer people up but, being my negative self, I could not do a very good job of it.

…

I was feeling a lot better after I had all the drama in my life explode in a very inconvenient time and situation. I went to see my orgmates because I took the liberty of not showing up for a while after my drama. Though I didn’t see a lot of them, I was able to catch Sam, Dino, and Kenneth. Robern was there but she had to leave so there were only four of us left in the kubo that evening. I was actually waiting for Vincent because we were supposed to have a talk – we did and it was a very relieving one because he was able to talk some sense into me – but while waiting for him I listened to the three chat about Dino’s paper. It was fun listening to them. I kind of missed the intellectual talks within the org. most of the time I was just really listening because they were talking about writing and literature (I admit I am not very good on it that’s why I just decided to shut up and listen because I might learn something out of their discussion). Suddenly the talk wasn’t about Dino’s paper or about writing anymore, it was about me. I had to breathe deeply for a second and then I talked. It was funny because Sam told me that I was the epitome of existentialism – at least among her circle of friends – when I asked what it meant to be existentialist. It was a very vague term for me that’s why I had to ask. And I couldn’t believe I was the answer to that question, at least according to Sam. I liked the way she said it because it made me wonder even more. I really like it when someone challenges my mind, maybe because of being my Gemini self according to Pauba. It felt more fun particularly when Sam said, “Why do you feel so inadequate?” I so liked that question that I had to type it on my phone and save it in my message drafts to be able to remember it. Until now I still am asking that question to myself, and every time I do, I get that same excited feeling I had when Sam asked it. I still haven’t found out the answer though, but I am hoping I will soon.

…

I did have instances when I thought about my being a pessimist as something bad. There were times I attempted to unleash that 1% of being less pessimistic. It felt ok, but apparently it didn’t work. I wanted to do it again but I couldn’t anymore due to the simple reason that I felt negative towards doing it. Yeah, my pessimism attacked me in making that decision and it overruled any other power there was in my decision-making – if there were any. So yeah, I got stuck with being my 99% pessimist self.

After the talk with Vincent I was able to think rationally. I was still being pessimistic, but I know that somehow, I was trying to think rationally. I ended up with a totally new decision. I was able to realize that he was able to do a lot of things, and that maybe I could do them too. Though, I also think that Robern would do very well. I was actually bothered by the fact that I would have to be against Robern who I believe has a big potential. But then, I had to come up with the conclusion that, I would give it a try but I shall be very much prepared for whatever happens in the end. I do not expect to win, and it doesn’t matter to me if I did lose. I just wanted to give her a fair fight. I do not think she would want it that way that she will be against something that doesn’t exist: ABSTAIN. It is better to give her a challenge to be able to test her potentials. But it doesn’t mean I am doing this for nothing. All I’m saying is, no matter what the end shall bring, I would accept it. Like my recent realization, it is not always about me (though, this blog may be a bit biased when it comes to that).

…

So many things my little negative mind thinks about, so little space for all those thoughts to fit in. I wonder if I will be able to put them all aside for a while and be able to think freely. Maybe then I shall find that little space in my persona to fit even just a bit of optimism in.

Twists and Turns

I recently stopped for a while.

I stopped thinking. I stopped working. I stopped my life.

You know how it feels when you just stop from whatever you are doing and then just breathe deeply? It’s very relaxing, right? It’s very comforting. Being able to breathe deeply every once in a while is good for us especially if we live such infinitely stressful lives.

Having that said, I felt better after whatever emotional and psychological stress I inflicted myself recently. Maybe I was a bit too hasty in deciding about my fate because now I am thinking otherwise. I feel like re-considering the opportunity to take over.

I have a lot of problems ever since I was a kid. I didn’t expose them in public (well, excluding the fact that I blog about some of it) because I didn’t want to seem like a very negative person. Of course, as obvious as it is, I ironically did become a negative person because of that suppression of feelings. I have the tendency to become a very rebellious piece of junk. I am such a pain for almost everyone who gets involved in my messed-up life.

Kapow! And then it hit me, how many stupid times do I use the word I? Thanks to Vincent – even though it is not his intention to respond to my post – I was able to come up with the realization, and finally proved the phrase “the world does not revolve around you” true. I am not the center of the world. It is stupid and very selfish to think that I am the world and everything is about me. Hence, I am going to attempt thinking about others.

I have a duty to make people happy. I have a duty to make a better world for everybody, because this life after all is everybody’s story.

Everyone deserves a break from every little thing they find exhausting. And every time one stops and rests, one gets to think more clearly and ends up with a better decision, a better choice.

Now I have come to the conclusion that yes, I totally admit, I did decide quickly and in a not very good state, but I was able to think things through in a much better state of mind and thus, I say I will take this chance. I am ready for whatever the end will bring and I shall see to it that it will not stop me from re-formatting myself into a person who creates better decisions and thinks about others. I shall stop being selfish and try to do things for others. I would do my best to be considerate; a bit bitchy maybe, but very much considerate and fair.

To everyone who talked to me and reacted on my post, thanks for doing it. I shall try my best to be a very good person when I take over whatever is left for us to do. I shall work well with people and I shall be a better person.

…

P.S.

I wanted to do a public apology though I haven’t got the chance to so yeah, I am sorry to you all. I shall start being a better person and stop being a selfish one. I will work for the welfare of others and be a very good member – in control of my actions. Thanks for everything!

A pile of wasted life

I have been living inside a big coat of misery for a very long time. I have hidden myself from the world because I always thought that negativity should just be kept inside you. Now I’m paying the price. I thought I learned how to sublime my negative emotions into something positive so that what the world sees is the opposite of how I feel. But then, I was totally wrong because it wasn’t sublimation that I did but instead, I suppressed all of the negativity in me. Now, it’s all trying to explode from wherever I hid it inside myself. It is bad enough that I feel like exploding, but it is worse that I should involve what I totally considered home.

I was in constant search for the perfect home since I was a kid. I found it here in college when I joined the org I got very much attached to. I love this org for the very simple reason that I found it to be accommodating for people who are very different from each other but still gets along well. It is the perfect home I always sought for. I have been active ever since I joined the org but I could say I’m not the worker type of member. I may be quite apathetic because I couldn’t say that I have returned what it deserves for what it has provided me. But I believe that this semester, my second to the last in college, is the most fulfilling one because I am proud to say that I have worked for the committee with the most achievements during this semester. I have been in this committee since I became a member but only now have I felt achievement. That was actually why I considered heading this committee in the following sem. But, a very perfect timing for my inner self to explode.

It was the final activity of our committee, and considered to be the last activity of our current committee head as the head. I felt really nervous because it was the day I will decide for myself whether to pursue the position or not. I NEVER ever showed interest in the said position during this sem because I don’t want any more people to put pressure on me since I get enough of it from myself. That’s why I didn’t really reveal my intent on taking over – at least not until now.

The activity started well, at least that’s how I thought. During the first break I felt like there was something wrong. Then a member told me what this feeling was. I felt quite bad for myself because I didn’t get what that wrong feeling is until someone told me. So I told the current committee head what that was and I apologized to the member who told it to me. A petty matter as it may seem but it was somehow a big deal for me because it caused me to realize that I am not, and can never be, up for the role of being committee head. I told you, too much pressure to myself. I have always been very bad in dealing with pressure. That was what actually led me in to breaking down.

If we would only consider that day, it is not enough a reason for me to breakdown. But it wasn’t just because of that day. It was ever since my life started. I am a big mess, a stupid pile of wasted life ever since I knew what that meant. That petty thing, it was just one of the many little things killing me slowly as I go along the path of life…or rather, death.

Our chairperson might actually have had a hint that I wasn’t alright because she did ask me if I was ok. Being my usual masochistic self, I said I was fine. I don’t really feel better when people start worrying about me because I feel more inferior when they do. I felt worse when the next set of booths started functioning. I was alone in the booth which was supposed to be a collaboration of two committees. I felt very much isolated. I know it sounds too melodramatic but I guess that’s what I couldn’t (and wouldn’t be able to) take off from my system. In the final booth, I found the knife that will cut my wrist. Vodka has always been my weakness when it comes to alcohol. I promised myself I would never take it again after what happened to me before (which is another long story). But what felt good about it was when I felt numb from all those things killing me. Only when I drink vodka do I feel free from self-inflicted pain. That’s why I took that knife and cut my wrist, and even my throat. I finally am free, I finally died.

Thus, I at last did my decision. It’s a big no-no in becoming the next committee head. I wouldn’t be able to handle all those things. I won’t be able to continue the good things our committee had done under the current head. I can NOT be the one who would take over. My personality is not up for it no matter how I love this org and this committee. I am not fit for the role.

For involving the org I love so much in my very stupid and wasted life, I apologize deeply. Yes, we can’t say “it’s no biggie” like what the current head told me, because if you really love something you would never in your entire life involve it into your personal misery. What I did was an irresponsible act of cowardice. But that was the only way I won’t break down and cry in front of everyone, the only way to save me from judgmental and worrying eyes that would make me feel less significant in this world.

For those who already, and would, understand, I thank you. For those who do not, and could not, I sincerely apologize. My life need not be explained to you since I am just a tiny insignificant dust amidst the vast of heaven. I just really need to explode every once in a while to be able to keep myself functioning well. Or maybe I should just stop this nonsense and end it all; get a real knife and cut my wrist finally.