March 29, 2013

Very true. Always read when you want a reality check.

Thought Catalog

You have to learn to be strong. Strength is something that people often see as keeping one’s self together at all times – never falling and never failing. The truth is the strongest people fall a lot and they fail a lot, but they always endure. Strength is gained from trying, it is gained from participating fully in life; it is gained from facing your fears and from persevering, and picking yourself up after you’ve fallen greatly. No two people have the same strength because no two people have the same experience. We all have our limits but our greatest strength is discovered when those limits are tried and tested. But you have to learn strength on your own.

You have to learn to be happy. Happiness is not something you can buy or earn, it is something you are and have; it is a state of mind. Sometimes…

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March 29, 2013

Basically perfect and relevant… except I still don’t know how to play Flipcup.

Thought Catalog

1. How to play flipcup

2. How to break into an abandoned building

3. How to get down from a four-story building without a fire escape

4. How to bluff my way into bars without an ID

5. How to get the bartender to totally forget I have a cash tab

6. How to get other patrons to pick up my tab without at all infringing upon my own sexual integrity

7. That just because someone is way out of your league and — logically speaking — should never find you attractive, doesn’t mean they aren’t fair game. Everyone is fair game, if you know what you’re doing

8. Being yourself as hard as you can is the easiest way to make most people like you

9. Knowing your limits is not being a pussy

10. Obeying your limits does not necessarily make you smart

11. Just because you’re in…

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March 29, 2013

I remember posting something before about having the need to apologize to the universe for not being good enough. This article from Thought Catalog is the perfect response to my less than appreciative post.

Thought Catalog

Recently, I heard someone say something so simple yet so profound: “When you hear something and then repeat it internally, you’re accepting it. Worse still, when you hear something and silently sit and don’t refute it, you are accepting it.”

It threw me at first. But then I remembered countless times wherein my silence meant a degree of acceptance.

In the third grade, I came home crying because a boy on the playground told me that my dream of becoming the first woman president would never happen because “Girls can’t be president.” While my 8-year-old brain clearly took in and deemed his faulty logic to be skewed, it still hurt. And I still knew, somewhere in the back of my mind, that what he said was getting to me. Shaking my confidence. Telling me that I wasn’t good enough.

We truly are our own worst critics and enemies, aren’t we?

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I love you.

March 19, 2013

I’ll just keep these words stashed here so I don’t have to carry them around with me wherever I go. They’re too heavy to have hanging around my mind.

I hope I don’t forget where I’ve placed them, just in case I need to grab it when I do need it.

Wishing

March 19, 2013

I’m going to hold my breath until the term is over. I’m going to take the plunge and bury myself six feet under.

Breathing only makes me feel worse. Leisure is a crime. Complacency is a crime. Stillness is a crime. No matter what, I can’t stop moving.

Whenever I pause to take a second off, the waves come crashing down and water fills my lungs.

I’m struggling, I’m flailing…….

And then, there’s you. You’re probably stressed to the same level as I am. When we talk, it’s still about work, and I can’t take it. I talk to you to forget things like that, but we both can’t seem to let it go.

Twice you asked me to distract you, and twice, I think I have failed. Since when did I run out of things to talk about and just focus on work all the time? Since when?

Of course, I miss you. You had a rough day yesterday. Your plans might have not panned out like you thought they would. I’m sorry. I want to hear all about it, but maybe when you feel better, and when I feel better, too.

I hope you’re okay. I wish the same for me as well. We’ll get through this term. Like I said, you were right before, and I hope you’re right again now. We’ll be alright.

Make it good, hun.

Too bad

March 10, 2013

After not seeing you for two weeks (not counting when I caught a glimpse of you last… Monday?), and not talking to you properly since last Saturday (not counting our very short text exchange last Monday, too),  I decided to call you tonight. After five whole days of completely shutting ourselves off from one another (despite the promise I made last week), it all boiled down to this.

Called you once at 9.20.  You didn’t pick up. Thought you left your phone charging again and didn’t hear it. Decided to call back an hour later.

Called you back at 10:37. You did pick up.

We asked each other how the other was, and we pretty much had the same answer. Both of us were so busy — thesis, requirements, papers, classes, quizzes, etc. I understand. I was there. I’m guilty, too. I told you I still felt like I was drowning under all the work and pressure.

You said you wanted to tell me a whole lot more than you let on, but you couldn’t because you were doing your thesis. Apparently, you were sleeping over at your thesis mate’s to do some work. Oh, alright then. Uhm… Okay. There was a few seconds of awkward silence where I didn’t know what to do with myself. Maybe I should just leave then. Hang up? But we were barely talking for five minutes. It didn’t feel right. Anything that wasn’t our minimum three hour phone call quota didn’t feel right.

Then you offered that we could talk tomorrow, Sunday, but it was my turn to say no. It was my turn to sleep over and do my thesis. The timing of the world is just plain terrible.

I said it’s been quite a while since we’ve talked, and you agreed. You said like it seemed so long ago. A week is officially more than an eternity for us. Five days? Longer than it should have been. Longer than it actually is.

We were exchanging lines like “sayang”, “we have to talk”,  “gusto kong magkwento”, and somewhere in between I inserted, “I miss you na eh!” You replied with an adamant, “I know! Ako rin!”

We ended up not really saying much, except for the fact that we were both swamped up to the brim with school work. You thought that I was still in my academic-induced coma. You’re glad I’m still alive after all those days of silence.

I was kind of frustrated that tonight was the only night I sort of had off, and we still weren’t able to talk. Of all the things, something this simple couldn’t go like it was supposed to? Too bad. Honestly, too bad.

I decided that I shouldn’t keep you any longer, and so I decided to hang up. Before we did, it was,

“Alright, have fun with thesis.”
“I better! I hope so.”
“I miss you already!”
You laughed for a bit. “Same here.”
“See you soon! Bye!”
“Bye.”

It’s so unfair though. Should I have still heard your voice for five minutes, when we wouldn’t be able to talk anyway? Give someone a good thing, then take it back oh so quickly. What word was that again? Oh, yeah, PAASA. Not you, okay, I meant the universe.

I remember during the break when one day of not talking to each other merited an eight hour encounter the following day. How much more these past several days, which most likely would turn into weeks? At the end of it all, would it be another super long bonding session, or will it be too late for any exchanges by then? Will too much have already happened that we just couldn’t bring ourselves to sit down and lay everything on the table? I hope not.

As much as I want to say that I shouldn’t let us drift apart or spend more than two days maximum without talking to each other, I can’t. I can’t promise that, because I know that I might not be able to do it in the long run. I’ll try to be as consistent as I can, but I will falter once a in a while, and I can’t have you being disappointed at that. I will get buried in work whether we like it or not, and I might not be able to talk or think about you even. I’m sorry. I’m sure you’ll experience the same thing. I just hope that we can still be us when we do get breathers in between work.

I texted you that I was going on air the next day, so you could listen if you wanted to. I said I’ll make sure to give you a shout out. You replied that you still couldn’t believe how long it’s been since we last talked (perhaps since we last heard each other’s voices), and that you’ll try your best to tune in if you aren’t dead yet due to school work.

What got me hooked though, was the fact that you called me by my petname again. I haven’t called you by yours in a really long time. I thought we dropped those names a month ago. I thought we subconsciously agreed that they were too much. But you used it again, and that just sent me reeling in. It felt like I was still yours, and you were still mine, and we never left that one night when we walked around hand in hand for the first time.

I hate it when you call me that. It’s like all the space I’ve put between us suddenly vanished. I worked hard to get that space you know. Then again, I like it when you call me that, too, only because once the space vanishes, and I feel like I’m close to you again, I suddenly remember how much I miss being that way.

Thinking back on last night, I don’t really know why I said what I said.

Earlier that day, I was determined to break it off, to let you go a bit more, to stop caring as much, because it didn’t seem like you wanted me to stick around. It didn’t seem like you wanted to stick around me either.

Then later that night, you flip the tables. Well, you reacted the way I expected you to. You said goodbye, with all your dramatic flair, which I just deemed unnecessary. I expected some measure of letting go, but I didn’t expect goodbye. For me, it showed your lack of good faith. You talk as if we haven’t gone through anything together, like we haven’t made any memories, like it was all so easy to throw everything away, like we weren’t friends.

I was not going to stand for such bullshit. How dare you insinuate that I didn’t care about you? You selfish bastard. You don’t tell me things because you don’t want to involve me in your problems and drag me down with you? What the fuck? You need me to help you fix it. Don’t be so inconsiderate. Classic it’s not you, it’s me. Shut up.

You say that half of you wants to close yourself off from the world, to detach yourself from people, including me, because they simply do not give a damn about you and your problems. That half thinks it’s better to fix yourself first, by yourself, because no one wants to be friends with someone who’s broken and can’t deal with their own shit. The other half berates you for even thinking that, because that other half knows that somewhere along your life, you need to let people in once in a while. That other half knows that it’s okay to trust other people, because they help you heal.

I asked you, which side do you want? What kind of friend do you want me to be? The one that tolerates you and backs off when you want to close yourself off, or the one that pries and tries and shakes the sense out of you? You tell me you don’t know. You tell me you need both. Then you tell me that you don’t know again.

I asked you, why can’t you just be one kind of person? Why do you make it so difficult? Why do you refuse to let people in? You say that you’re not used to this. You’re not used to someone else other than your family giving a crap about you. Earth to you, that’s what friends are for. I’m sorry that you have major trust issues, and I’m sorry that maybe before, your friends didn’t think you were worth their time, but I’m saying, I keep telling you, that this time around, you have us,  you have me, and it will be different.

And so the night ended with me promising to stick around, whether you liked it or not. I reassured you multiple times that I do give a damn about you, and you can open up to me whenever you want about whatever you want because I will listen and I will care and I will give you advice if you need it. I will sympathize with you and not judge you for your decisions or mistakes. I promise to be your friend, if you would just let me in. Don’t push me away.

Things never go the way we expect to with us. Maybe that’s just me. I’m living the exact same situation, just two years later, from a different point of view. This time around, you’re me, and I’m you know who. Huh.

I realized that this whole friendship isn’t about me. It’s about you. I have to work harder to fix you, to show you it’s okay to trust other people. Why would I bother? I don’t know. Maybe it’s because despite what everybody else says, I think you’re worth keeping around.

Afterwards, we established the fact that our friendship is based on feelings of mutual hate and violence, of how you want to strangle me and how I want to stab you. We say this in jest, but some part of me knows it’s true. We find each other absolutely infuriating sometimes. It’s funny.

Then you told me twice that you’ll miss talking to me. Deep inside, I know you meant to say that you were going to miss me, but we’re off to a good start, and I’ll take what I can get. I returned the sentiment. I said I’ll miss talking to you, too, but I hope you soon realize that we both don’t have to.