si buntis
ang buntis na siguro ang pinaka-emo na nilalang sa buong galaxy. di na kelangan ang one-sided hairstyle, black nail polish at matiritinding eyeliner. wala ring sinabi ang pag iyak sa ulan. basta buntis ka, sureness na ang emoness.
maya’t-maya’y makakaramdam ka ng grabeng kalungkutan na di mo alam kung saan galing. para itong ligaw na damo na bigla na lang sumusulpot na kahit anong bunot mo, dadami at kakalat pa rin. tanging ang sanggol na lamang sa sinapupunan ang pinaghuhugutan mo ng lakas ng loonb ngunit ang masaklap dito ay di mo naman ito mahahawakan. mas nakaka-depress. lalo na sa 1st trimester ng pagdadalang tao (1-3 months, duh!), dios ko, tila ba suicidal ang mga juntrax. kung anu-ano kasi ang sumasagi sa isipan, kahit ano na lamang ay binibigyan kahulugan. kahit wala namang problema, nagkakaroon at ang maliliit na bagay ay napapalaki! grabe ang emotional heights, mood swings at super sensitive, talo pa si marimar sa emote.
pero para sabihin ko sayo, maraming lumalason sa isip ng bundat. numero uno na jan ang…
INSECURITY. di mo mapigilang mainggit sa iba, mapapa-isip ka na lang bigla na, "wow buti pa sila nakaka bwelo pa, ako hindi na tapos ampanget panget ko pa, huhuhuhuhu." o minsan naman, "wow buti pa sila ang si-sexy, huhuhuhuhu." lahat na lamang may huhuhuhu, lahat napag-iinitan, kina-iinggitan kaya bumababa ang tingin sa sarili. pero syempre hindi to pwede ipahalata sa ibang tao kasi ang buntis ay inaasahang palaging masaya at excited sa baby. bawal na mag mukhang malungkot kasi baka kaawaan ka. bawal ang nakasimangot. dapat magmukha kang blooming. kumbaga, ang buntis na di happy ay kriminal.
SELF PITY. pag kayo’y buntis at naiwan na mag-isa sa kwarto tapos nowehere to be found pa ang jowa o asawa, gudlak sa mata mo! surebol na ang nonstop crying episodes. ang dahilan? wala lang. kasi feeling mo, walang nagmamahal sayo, walang nakaka intindi sayo, walang sumusuporta sayo, walang masaya na buntis ka, walang umaalalay, etc etc kaya awang awa ka sa sarili mo. syempre mas badtrip pa pagwala yung tatay ng baby mo o kaya’t di ka pinanagutan o di pa tanggap na buntis ka o kaya’y confused pa sya, dios ko po, yan na siguro ang pinaka masaklap ever para sa bundat. kahit anong encouragement galing sa frends, no use yan dir. i’m telling you.
SILOS. kahit sinong pwede suutan palda, pagseselosan ni bundat. da more na lumalaki ang ilong, braso, pata at mga kasu-kasuan ng buntis, da more din na nagiging selosa si buntis. da more na umiitim ang kili-kili at singit nya, da more din umiitim ang paningin nya sakanyang paligid. pero minsan naman kasi hindi maiwasang magsilos ni nanay-to-be kasi kung kelan ka nga naman nagdadalang tao, saka naman nagsisi-dapuan ang mga chix kay boylet. sabagay, blooming kasi ang mga tatay-to-be, kung ano ang kina-pangit ni buntis yun naman ang kina-pogi ni boylet. kaya naman andamiiiiiing lumalandiiiii. andaming nagpapakyut. andaming umaapila (right, mayee?hehe). insecurity plus malanding girls, equals to SILOS talaga. kaya kayong mga girlalu, wag nyo naman pasamain loob ni bundat kasi bad yun para kay baby. alam nyo na ngang nagdadalang tao, makikisawsaw pa kayo. ang mga boylet naman, hmmmm, overwhelmed. as if.
BITTERNESS. ang saya mag expect ng baby pero bakit ang pait ng panlasa mo? ang dali sumama ng loob. hindi lang mahipo ni boylet, bitter agad. hindi lang pakitaan ng pagalala, bitter na naman. hindi lang masamahan magpa chek up, bitter ulit. feeling nya palagi syang deprived ng pagmamahal at care. arte arte.
KSP. hindi lang maitext o maalala si bundat, naku, gudlak. hindi lang maisama sa usual gimik ng tropa, naiiyak na si buntis. pero ganon talaga kaya dapat palagi kayong naka antabay sa buntis kasi baka isipi nya na di nyo na sya nila-luuuuv, di na sya nipapansiiiin, di na ni-aalagaan, di na niki-care at di na nifi-frend. hahaha!
–kaya naman ako, heto, pa-blog blog para ni-pansiiiiiin nyo! hehe
i did it (dora tune)!
i have just finished painting my two obra maestras (nyah!). uhm, it’s like a cross between psychedelia and kinder art. hehehe. i dont know. hehehe.
Uncategorized | Comments (2)wattopaint, wattopaint???
i’ve never been so pressured in my life. today, i bought 2 huge canvasses. the most expensive oil paint in tubes. and the finest brush you’ll ever see. of course i’m pressured! i have no idea what to paint and i ought not to waste any of these expensive materials i bought! waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!
ma-coloring book na lang daw ko.
Uncategorized | Comment (1)random tots
I think that:
- stormy weathers like this can make someone very nostalgic to the extent of frustration
- there’s something in being famous that people gropes so badly about
- surrealism is going deeper into your subconscious
- looks can be very deceeeeeeeeeiving indeed
- Marj is way above Naga’s fashion scene
- Mayee used to be a spoiled rotten kid who loves mocking “feelingeras.” And she still is. Haha! And I’m glad we’re able to catch up.
- Unlimited internet connection is da best!
- Being rich is not something to really fumble about, being content and having your loved ones around you is the real thing
- Love makes you hate
- Paulo Coehlo suckity-suckity-sucks, especially his best sellers.
- To alter a story or events at other people’s expense just so save your face is something only a loser would do. Get a life.
- People nowadays have something about being “deep, dark and artsy-fartsy.” It’s so becoming a trend and I so hate it.
- I am not negative, I am just cynical.
- Someone is always fishing around. Hmmm.
- Vaca is a huge ash-tray.
- Beauty is just beauty, don’t fuss over it, that’s so low of you. You can be ugly and still be loved by a lot of people.
- Oiliness is next to ugliness.
- Social climbers are very distinguishable. Someone who doesn’t live within their means.
- I really have to start my driving lessons but I think of it as a huge responsibility because in one way or another, it can cause death, damage, destruction and distraction.
- Taking advantage of someone is only done by poor and dense people
- Cursing is catharsis. That’s why I’m hardly pressured.
- I’d rather fail in what I want to do than succeed in something others want me to do.
- Dylan will be a very pretty lady maybe 10 years from now and I’m scared.
- She’s gonna hate me someday.
- There’s no big deal in smoking marijuana. My gosh.
- Blogging is an everyday therapy and I can be very biting in some of my posts. Now if you happen to dislike something I wrote about, COMMENT me. Otherwise, get over it.
- Call me arrogant, call me know-it-all, at least I ain’t a hypocrite.
- I miss ABCEDE days, awfully.
- I miss my tropang bakla and I know they miss me too.
- November last year was a month of stormy nights spent over candles, sugal, sardines, gitara, matador and flood-adventures in Abcede. I miss you Dru and Owels!!!
- After giving birth, I’ll chain smoke for a whole day.
- Someday, I’ll have a very happy love life.
true prends.
It’s only when you’re tormented that you’ll know who your real friends are. There are those genuinely concerned who sticks faithfully by your side and continuously asks for updates about your fucked up life which somehow eases the burden, but there are those who are only available when things are “hapi-hapi.” Words that are supposed to comfort you are hackneyed assurance and futile when you can’t feel the sincerity. And not that I am counting or looking for audiences to have my whines heard but when you’re way down the bottom, you cannot help but seek for even a gorge of light. I don’t set any standards or qualifications either to label you a “true friend”, instead I lay it upon my instinct. Genuineness can be felt. You’ll know whose saying stuff just for the heck of it and you’ll know who’s for real.
Me, I have loads of people I can call pals and good-time buddies but there are only a few who makes my heart skip. And right now, considering what I am going through, I’m glad there are still friends who can make me smile and laugh from the recesses of my rectum. Those who checks on me once in a while and some who even makes an effort to contact and see me despite the distance and hassle. Basta, you know who you are people. Mabalos!
sniff.sniff.
Uncategorized | Comment (1)Bitter - Better
Bitterness is not new for those who feel deprived of something. It’s a translucent flask of pent up hate and confined emotions that other people may have an idea of one way or another. However, if you have enough talent in containing your revulsions and keeping yourself cool despite the cramped up turbulence inside your chest, then good for you. Although sad to say, bitterness has an auto-process in trailing your thoughts and sentiments into actions. It manifests indirectly. Poisonous in its own term, like pretensions, bitterness can eat you up alive little by little.
But I am not about to preach here and advise you not to let it consume what’s left of your personality, god, I’ve had enough dealing with hypocritical people. I might as well warrant this to myself. It’s just that I realized, love is a potential root of bitterness because love holds a lot of promises (as my horny, all-knowing virgin of a Dr.Love-best friend told me just hours ago). Once you let yourself succumb entirely to it, you’re dead meat. ‘Makes you more prone to emptiness and loathing. Ladies and gentlemen, that’s the ironic fact about love, it makes you hate.
I am deprived of love, care and respect. And I am bitter.
Uncategorized | Comments (2)A letter to Elise
oh elise it doesn’t matter what you say
i just can’t stay here every yesterday
like keep on acting out the same
the way we act out
every way to smile
forget
and make-believe we never needed
any more than this
any more than this
oh elise it doesn’t matter what you do
i know i’ll never really get inside of you
to make your eyes catch fire
the way they should
the way the blue could pull me in
if they only would
if they only would
at least i’d lose this sense of sensing something else
that hides away
from me and you
there’re worlds to part
with aching looks and breaking hearts
and all the prayers your hands can make
oh i just take as much as you can throw
and then throw it all away
oh i throw it all away
like throwing faces at the sky
like throwing arms round
yesterday
i stood and stared
wide-eyed in front of you
and the face i saw looked back
the way i wanted to
but i just can’t hold my tears away
the way you do
elise believe i never wanted this
i thought this time i’d keep all of my promises
i thought you were the girl always dreamed about
but i let the dream go
and the promises broke
and the make-believe ran out…
oh elise
it doesn’t matter what you say
i just can’t stay here every yesterday
like keep on acting out the same
the way we act out
every way to smile
forget
and make-believe we never needed
any more than this
any more than this
and every time i try to pick it up
like falling sand
as fast as i pick it up
it suns away through my clutching hands
but there’s nothing else i can really do
there’s nothing else
i can really do
at all…
–the cure
Uncategorized | Comment (0)Happy birthday to me.
I have this endless urge to kill myself, as corny-dark it sounds. I don’t intend to revere gothic posers and Evanescence lovers that sham an image of suicidal “darkness.” But every 4 a.m., stress wakes me up. Or maybe it’s this throbbing emptiness that has become an out cold pattern. And it is more dismal for it would take a herculean effort to lull me back to sleep. I open my eyes only to find myself feeling alone in a king size bed extremely jealous of my daughter’s serenity. She’s getting prettier each day and I desire her innocence. Thinking of my never-ending problems on the other hand and how my life turned out to be so chaotic, I always end up succumbing to tears at 4 a.m. The only comfort I would get is a tight hug from my Dylan every time she stirs in her sleep. I’d think maybe she can feel mommy in grief but it’s more disheartening.
People think, or maybe you think, I am doing ok but the truth is, I feel the entire opposite. And I am scrawling everything down not to gain your sympathy but because it’s 4 a.m. and I am trying so hard to divert the madness in my head to writing spontaneously and perhaps this can beat me up. If you ask me what’s really going on, I’d say, a pile lot. And I feel I am a huge ball of burden these days that it’s such a mortal sin to let everything out. If I can only take sleeping pills or anything to tire me up like I used to, I would but I am not allowed to so writing is the only escape. I am drowned in deep shit and I can’t look weak because I have somebody else to mind and support. It can never be only about ME anymore.
This is the worst phase I am going through. I feel like I’ve had enough but nevertheless, I cannot stop on my track. It’s becoming an obligation to go on and continue what’s up. And everything’s my fault and I am so aware of that so I can’t let anybody help me.
Every 4 a.m., I unconsciously wake up, I cry, I hug Dylan and I only resort to hoping that everything will be alright…
–11/02
4:16 a.m.
Uncategorized | Comments (3)