April 27th, 2007
Ahmad, my husband, is good looking or maybe that is an understatement. A Palestinian delight with a lip-macking talent for composing songs and delivering them out to his legions of drooling admirers like he really means business. And he still has his superego functioning that reminds him not to explore the territory of sin with any of his female fans. Sounds like a dream come true, huh? Maybe if I am one of those housewife-materials who patiently wait at home as he makes money out of his flair, it would be. It was fun at start I confess but lately I realized, I have dreams of my own as well. I am not jealous though, mind you. Or maybe I am. But not to the fact that any time a determined slut can just go grab his dick and lure him smitten then leave us. That was my fear during our honey moon stage and I am way past that, darling. What I envy most about him is the things he can do with his music and the achievements he had accomplished for it with his list of priority still on the right track. We both have artistic inclinations that have caught a lot of attentions already and we’re not complaining but my god, he is persistent, unwavering and consistent. And I am totally not. Yeah I can imagine myself being the artist that I am in the future but I can also imagine myself landing on my butt as I juggle family, career, art and vices. Unfortunately, the side effect of the art I make is the destruction of my other priorities that I tend to sack out whenever I get all hyped up over books and pens. So for the meantime, I guess I am just Ahmad’s wife. The rock star’s personal bitch.
On the other hand, my celebrity of a husband is a legend at being a father and he still manages to be on top of his rockstardom. And every time he goes out to play in a gig and I bet a lot will be watching them because they’re undeniably awesome on stage, a pang of jealousy and introspection would always be at bay. Pen is the scepter of my own passion, I am excellent at swirling, twirling and I’d thought, why the fuck can’t I put up my own art exhibit?! I know it’s silly but in a deeper level, so insightful. Self-assessment and probing are the least of the signs that prove I really want to go miles in terms of my talent. But until when will I be the rock star’s wife? Do people actually see me only lurking at my husband’s shadow? Ever since we got married, most of the people I met referred to me as “Ahmad’s wife” especially here in Legazpi. It can be a privilege sometimes but lately, it is getting more and more annoying. Good thing my audacious, sexy mouth is a public affair. Had it not been for my reckless, well-lubricated tongue, people won’t notice me I guess. Self-pity? Nah. I am too arrogant for that.
Supporting my husband’s career in microphones will never be mandatory though. I mean, I enjoy their music a lot as much as their fans do. I know the lyrics and melodies by heart and I am ever willing to lend my aid or ears for second opinions and honest suggestions. Although in the wildest trance my imagination has gone through, I see myself having my own stage. Not sharing it. Again, I am not bitter and nor am I defensive. I’ve completely rid myself of spite and my defenses are down. It’s just that I am aware I’m good at my forte, my works are original, I have my personal style and I have a promising potential to claim my own stars. The only requirement though that is lacking at me unfortunately is the most significant: motivation. I don’t have my husband’s unyielding drive. That is the one thing he has flowing simultaneously in his circulatory system that I so don’t have. Maybe that is why I’m anemic.
So when will I begin moving forward to gather up all my musings and struggles and put them into action? Maybe I have to start facing the real challenge and get rid of the negative vibe, my pessimism and my lackadaisical illness that have infected my way to my own limelight. And be not the rock star’s wife alone because first of all, I hate labeling, I ought to be recognized with my own name. Second, my artistic butt is itching to blast off already. And lastly, I am not just somebody else’s wife who enjoys basking in somebody else’s glow. Or maybe, just maybe, I also need to be patted on my back from time to time. ADHD is not rare and is not exclusive for children only, you know.
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i am an admirer of your art and the entirety of who you are. i promise you that all of us hide in our own shadows of obscurity. believe me little sister…. you don’t want to be on that stage for it is the loneliest place in the world. tagay kita pag-balik mo.
im posting just for the heck of it.todo explore ako munyan sa buong fster page mo.. gawd.. any guy would fall inlove with this bitch. hehe
nainlove na nani ako sa page mo hahaha!naloka din ako sa VACA article mo. haha. kahalaba kato vhe.( lastly, jonjie vidal pati, dai ko to aram ha.) well, see yah sooon 
im posting just for the heck of it.todo explore ako munyan sa buong fster page mo.. gawd.. any guy would fall inlove with this bitch. hehe
nainlove na nani ako sa page mo hahaha!naloka din ako sa VACA article mo. haha. kahalaba kato vhe.( lastly, jonjie vidal pati, dai ko to aram ha.) well, see yah sooon 
che! harani na ang May 5!!! Caramoan na ito! haha. bagay baga kay jonj apilyedo mo. haha