Step Out Of The Orange Vehicle Please

As far as PM could recall, life has always been a one-way street. This sometimes works to an advantage, sometimes not really so, but it has always been the case. The girl always walked forward. The girl never looked back.

And why not? After all, “No glass ever became sand again; No bread ever became wheat; No ripened fruit ever became a flower.”

There is no such thing as “going back to the way we were.”

Admit it or not, life just keeps on moving forward.

Balance

For the longest time, PM has wondered why tension of opposites predominate the world.

It has always bothered me why it always have to be the case, why things almost always have to be hard because a choice to be made – hard ones – is certainly involved, like if you want to have this, you have to loose that; if this is where you want to go, you can’t go here. The last thing that can really make it difficult is not really the indecisiveness – it is the decisiveness.

But now I think I’ve realized the answer. The tension of opposites exists to maintain a balance in our lives. We cannot really have it all because if that was the case we would not be able to appreciate anything, and if we try to take it all, at the end of the day, we would end up with nothing.

It is actually a self-preservation mechanism of life. No matter how ridiculous it seems, it actually keeps us sane.

The PM Abduction

PM’s missing.

These past few days, I have seen a tsunami of horror. If I know myself, I would say that I am more likely to die in the eve of a stress tsunami – I do not know how to swim after all. I could die easily… except that I am still alive.

It is really surprising, this state I am in at present. It is as if I am disconnected from who I am, like I am in a trance, or in a psychological coma of some sort. There are a lot of concerns around me, a lot of things that needs attention – sometimes solving – but it seems I am not bothered, like all the stress would just have to wait, or just leave if it cannot wait for me. It is as if I have slipped into an impenetrable bubble,  my eyes closed and my knees crossed in meditation. I am in awe of how I have behaved lately.

The normal me would have stressed and bitched out endlessly. My physical therapist should have numbed her hands in a futile quest to detoxify me of the various poisons on my world. The pain reliever bottle on my purse should have been empty for stopping my migraine attacks and I should be dying from asphyxia. But I am not. It feels like I am in a place where I am blinded with the brightest light and I cannot care less about all the troubles around me. Curiously, I have no idea why the sudden change of self.

Sometimes I wonder if something is wrong with me,  or if I am in a state of denial, or have I just lost it? It is like, amidst everything, I am fine, and dealing with things one at a time, on a level where there is ample space between me and the hungry dogs, and I am just able to keep on breathing properly in the face of the unthinkable depth of the stress tsunami. It is as if someone hit a button on my head and shut off the panic button – I cannot panic now – I have noticed I am also more patient, more accepting of myself and of the things that are happening to me.

But somehow I am alienated by the calm. I feel detached from who I am because of the solitude. It is like, there is something wrong because I am not able to react as much as I can to the things around me. It sounds insane right? Here I am, collected and composed and I am complaining about it.

Maybe I am just not used to being okay. That or I am scared I am unconsciously bottling everything inside and one day all of it would spill into an ugly, ugly mess.

I miss my neurosis.

Realigning My Truths

There will always be two versions of all things in this world: one is reality, what really happens; the other is the expectation, what we hope to be reality.

There is really nothing wrong with it, after all, no one was born without the ability for wishful thinking. The problem only starts when reality does not align with our expectations. Frankly, I believe most pains in the world has this for an origin.

If we are totally going to be objective, truth is, things just happen as they do, and people just do what they do, both for reasons who-knows-what. But if we do not really take it personally, the suicide rate would suffer a big drop rate and disappointments might be cut to an all-time low.

But that is not how it works right? Every second, expectations fill our heads – of what we want to happen, of what we want people to do to us, of what we want to do. And if that does not work out, we end up with a sad face, especially when your ability for wishful thinking is slightly above average – imagine if you are gifted, you are like a walking TNT.

And it always happens, because that is life. But the good news is everyone also has the DNA for moving on. Plus the thought, that the cosmos designer’s plan for our lives is always greater than our disappointments, and that the Absolute’s plan is always greater than our dreams.

Now that sounds better.

The Sanity You’ve Requested Is Temporarily Unavailable

Strawberry Knots

My feet are cracked and numbed and weak

From going in circles; one step back, two forward,

Three sideways. It is all a mistake. I want to go

But I can’t… or won’t, or both. Indecision is

Strangulating, making me hurt… As my cowardice wastes

My world. It may be a mistake. But it is I…

I know, causing the delay of life, of breathing space

Of sanity. And if I would be judged I’d be

found stupid. It was all my mistake.

Move Out Big Brother

KULOT: Maganda yung kanta ni Tito Bobot ng ‘He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother’ ano [Don't you think Tito Bobot sings 'He ain't heavy, he's my brother' very well]?

ME: Oo, pero ako mas gusto ko pa din yung kay Kuya eh[Yes, but I like Kuya's [Big Brother] rendition more].

KULOT: Ah oo, kasi may parang… something [Yes, that's right. There is something special I can't explain].

ME: Ibang klase no? May iba [Amazing, right? There is something special].

KULOT: May feelings kasi, damang-dama mo [It's because it's sincere, you can feel it].

ME: Oo tama, ibang klase [Right, it's amazing].

The road is long
With many a winding turn
That leads us to who knows where
Who knows where
But I’m strong
Strong enough to carry him
He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother

The song ‘He ain’t heavy, He’s my brother’ by the Hollies is the theme song of Mother Goose and her siblings. Each time we would be together for a particualr reason, or sometimes for no reason at all, there would be singing and never would this song be missed. Kuya would always sing it for us. My sisters and I have agreed so many times that Kuya’s version is far better than the original. They should be ashamed of themselves, whoever they are.

Kuya is Mother Goose’s eldest male sibling, also the eldest amongst the ones still here in the country. Technically, Kuya is my uncle. But everybody in the family calls him Kuya, the way his siblings would. And if you will ask me, nobody has ever played the part – nor deserved the name – better than him.

Growing up, Kuya was a constant figure in our lives. He would always be there – always – good or bad, for a celebration or just for dinner, which can be funny because we live in different provinces. What’s interesting is that, unlike our other uncle’s, Kuya was never demonstrative, nor verbal, about how much he loved us. Kuya was always reserved, unlike, say with Tito Bobot who will always play with us, who will always be hugging us, and who will always be telling us that he loved us. Kuya was different. But still, we know.

Maybe that is the most amazing thing about him – despite everything, we know.  Even when he would just always be looking at us, sitting on one corner, just smiling, just his presence there – nothing more – we know. I guess that is part of being the Kuya of the family; or like when he sings our song, always, there is something special that you cannot just pinpoint exactly, but you know it’s there, and always have.

So on we go

His welfare is of my concern
No burden is he to bear
We’ll get there

For I know
He would not encumber me
He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother

I remember when it was time for me to take the local board exam. Kuya was the one who took me to the Our Lady of Manaoag Shrine in Pangasinan to ask for mercy. I cannot forget how Mother Goose asked for a sign while we were at the shrine and finally seeing it, then Kuya said laughing, “Nako, nagkatotoo ba? Eh ang hiniling ko maging number one si Micah [Did you see the sign you asked for? What I prayed for is that Micah will top the board exam]“. Of course I did not top the local board exam, but I knew I was still the best for Kuya, that can be enough too. On the day of the local boards, he was also the one who drove me to the testing center – and the one who picked me up. By the time that I was trying to go into publishing, with my first job interview, it was still Kuya who was with me. As I said, he was always there – for me. I was his girl.

To be honest, his support can really be overwhelming. I look up to him in so many ways that each time I see that split second glint in his eyes that tells me he is proud of me, I just can’t explain how that makes me feel. If I am being perfectly honest, I cannot really count how many times Mother Goose has asked me to write something about Kuya, but each time I try it just seems that I can’t do it. It feels like words cannot explain how I really feel. I am too overwhelmed to start because everything just seems to be rushing out of a broken dam that it is hard to catch one or two decent lines. I must admit though that this only happens with two people: the first one is with Don Domeng and the second one is with Kuya.

If I’m laden at all
I’m laden with sadness
That everyone’s heart
Isn’t filled with the gladness
Of love for one another

It’s a long, long road
From which there is no return
While we’re on the way to there
Why not share

Sometimes I wonder why everyone ended up calling Kuya the way we do. We could’ve called him Uncle, or maybe even Santa Claus, well, sometimes we call him that too. But I guess it is really because Kuya was the big brother to the family. Kuya was Kuya. I remember one time when I was younger FairyAuntMommy Fe called Kuya as Kuya ng Laging Saklolo [Brother of Perpetual Help], like that of the Saint. I am not about to contest that one, that can be fine too, though it can be long don’t you think so too?

Whoever I am to my siblings, somehow, my role model, or I guess all the elder young ones in the family, is Kuya. He has showed us how it really is to love family – that you do not really need so many words, nor so many deeds, you just have to love, and love and give till it hurt.  Kuya was the epitomy of what it is to be a brother. He looked after his siblings, and now I do know why we ended up calling him Kuya after all, because ultimately, he also looked after us like we are his own, and we are his own.

And the load
Doesn’t weigh me down at all
He ain’t heavy he’s my brother

He’s my brother
He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother

I’m just really glad that Kuya is Kuya for all of us. I hope he is glad for who I am because of his influence. I recall a time when Mother Goose told me it was written somewhere that Kuya had three kids and that the last was a girl, and if someone asked who was the girl he would say it was my cousin Ate Mariel. You know what, I really don’t think that is right.

That would be me.

These days Kulot often watches the show Pinoy Big Brother on prime time TV. I heard one say that the Kuya of Big Brother House was a good Kuya. The hell. If that would be compared to our Kuya, Big Brother should move out immediately.

Happy Birthday Kuya.

My Sacrifice

Everything that is worth something almost always entails an equal, more often greater, sacrifice.

I went to a tertiary hospital yesterday playing at a role reversal: suddenly I was the patient being treated by a physician and being looked upon by nurses. It was purely diagnostic though, no surgery… yet. LOL. Iit’s just that I couldn’t take the pain on my flanks so I thought maybe it has something to do with my kidneys. If I am to consider my lifestyle choices, that could really be a grave possibility.

Fortunately, my kidneys are fine – actually, all my internal organs are fine. The pain was only skeletal. Hmmm… I did not know you can get back pains from lying on bed so much. LOL. Thank you to my Man and my Mentor for worrying more than me, and also thank you to TK for the consult. You were right about the diagnosis man, major OC. LOL. [BTW TK, did you know the book Twenies Girl by Kinsella? The lead's name is Sadie, justl ike your girl. It is a good read, though it is chick lit, be warned. LOL]

So I was happy, and relieved, that I am fine, well except for the paranoia, I am generally okay. As a treat for myself, I went out and pampered myself, got my nails done and went to a dermatologist for my first facial – now I know how much beauty hurts.

It hurt like hell! LOL. I think my right arm went numbed because of the excavation. The facial massage part was the best – but when the slicing and prickling started I think I died – I did not know facial clinics employed cats to claw on their patient’s skin. LOL. No, it was not really a bad experience. In fact, I intend to go back regularly and have it done again. I hope I am not turning into a masochist. LOL.

Looking back, the facial horror had a rationale. You cannot really get good things that easy. There is no such thing as picking blessings like they are flowers on a free park. More often, all things of worth needs work, will hurt us, will entail a sacrifice, and more importantly, will entail courage.

Courage to take the leap. Courage to take a potential fall. Courage to face a possible tsunami of hurt. Courage to make equal, or graver sacrifices, for something larger than life.

It is being scared like hell, but doing it anyway.

Waiting

Patience is a virtue… that I do not have in abundance.

The residual effects of the Year of the Ox has been hounding me still, swamped with work and things to do. However, the cat’s tail is still dry, trying to keep up with all the demands. Plus, I now have something to divert my attention  – my own facebook account, finally! LOL.

I am amazed at how the quotes applications in facebook almost always hit the jackpot, like last night when I tried one application, it said: Minsan kahit ikaw ang nakaschedule kailangan mo pa ding maghintay dahil hindi naman ikaw ang priority [Sometimes even when you have a schedule with someone you still end up waiting because you are not the priority]. I was kind of feeling the same thing that time. It fit perfectly. I thought that was really cool.

I have also started a journal. It may come as a surprise but even with my blog it felt like I needed to start a journal, and so far it has been really therapeutic; I must admit though that sometimes I feel I have poured all my thoughts in writing on my journal I end up wondering what on Earth will I post on my blog. LOL. Well I guess that is something that I have to figure out yet.

I am totally excited about this new year. I feel like good things – big things – await to happen for me this year, to be devoured and savored, to make my heart pump like crazy… so much adrenaline, I can’t help it!

All the positivity is driving me nuts. Am I still the same person? LOL. Somebody hand me an antidote to cat heroine.

The Year The Equinox Lasted 365 1/2 Days

Starting Fresh

I hurt.

These are the words that first came to my noodle when I was trying to reflect on 2009, the year that in a few more ticks will be the-year-that-was.

It can be true, I probably sucked this year more than any other in the history of my sucking. I feel like I now have a good idea how it feels to have a cardiac muscle inside a mortar and pestle being worked on by a mad gorilla. Surprisingly, I did not cry much, but maybe that is because I almost always come to that point where it hurt so much tears just seem too ridiculous. Most days of this year just felt like my back is bent and my heart is skewed. Insanity became a good bedmate.

But at the back of my mind, it feels unfair. Sure most days I hated the world more than the usual, and I thought about moving to another planet every four days or so, but I also know that despite the spiral of chaos that was my days of 2009, I was also happy. I know so because I have not killed myself… yet. I smell happiness on my skin because 2009 was so horrible yet I am still up, no matter how battered and shaken, but the point is, I am still here.

Often I was lost, but the spectrum of emotions I felt, in the middle of all the confusion, was amazing. All the pain made me feel alive, or almost dying, either way my heart just pumped so hard, sometimes I worry I might sprain it, but it just made me feel so alive, or so insane. Let us just say that getting my peace required more fights this year.

I guess the most beautiful thing about having a year that sucked so much is that the happy times are also amplified; makes a lot of sense – if you are sadder than sad it will require a lot more than happy to get you going again right? And I can honestly say I have discovered so much more to make me happy. I really learned a lot.

Like there are many brands of catnip, many retail outlets, and some are best taken on specific times of the day, or night, and that variety can be good sometimes – just sometimes, because the tried and tested are usually still the best. I also learned that I can change, or not change, depending on the stakes. I stumbled upon many new things – or people – to hate, yet I also found some to love – like my niece and my nephew that I met for the first time from Jersey. I think the best part for me this year was realizing the fact that sometimes being not okay can be okay too; there is a lot to see in the swirl of confusion and doubt – it too can be fun. It does not hurt, letting go and going with the flow – I was petrified for a long time. The cat finally learned to appreciate the color gray.

Amidst everything I understood and did not understand this year, I am still very thankful. Thankful for another shot at life, and for work, no matter how odd that may seem. Thankful for the people who loved me even when I was neurotic all year long, and to the people who want to love me, thank you. Thankful for everything I was able to do, the same for those I did not do. For everything I said and did not say, for all the words I wrote and chose not to write, for all the truth I believed and some I chose to ignore… because I was scared, still I am grateful.

In the past I thought 2007 was hell, but now I do not even dare call 2009 hell-er, because I am sure, as long as my chest is expanding, there will be more horror to come. But the best part is, ‘bring it on‘. Even when most days of this year just felt like my back is bent and my heart is skewed, I also felt like my spirit is on the right place.

I will leave this year behind, happier than before… and braver, not just to see life, but to devour it, or savor, as the case may be.

Prosperous 2010 everyone.

Deck the Halls

This is PM’s first official holidays as a grown-up. I can’t say I am jumping up and down over it, but I am not about to be Scrooge either.

Everything felt, and still feels, like a blur. Most times I feel like a car door in the sense that I always go ‘wham!’. I am always beat up because of the long walks and long nights. God, this is sounding a bit depressing.I thought I said I was not about to be Scrooge.

Days before the holidays, I was so looking forward to it like a cat on morphine, but I guess it turned out not the one I expected: “all the rest” became “what rest?” Ugh… And all the things I planned to read before school starts again… I think I’m about to cry.

The good news is that PM’s extended family from half-way round the world all came home; they are the brighter side of the insane holiday season, or the reason for the mad spectacle, but in a good way. So far, we’ve had two weddings, and a million spent on toll fees. LOL.

You can say that my recent plight with insanity has gobbled me all up. I don’t even feel like myself. I hate me, or this, whatever this means, or both.

I think I still need that plastic bag.

And oh, happy holidays dears.