In a Box

It's eerily amazing how one event can change the story of your life. It's like a whole chapter has been ripped off and now you have jumped into the part that was always a possibility but certainly never a certainty.

You thought you were always this sturdy and ever reliable ceramic jar -- a plain one, of course, but with hints of swirls and subtle intricate designs. And then you suddenly realize you could actually be this dainty, fragile porcelain jar that always primps prettily behind glasses -- always to be admired, always to be coveted. And you ride in high, surfing those waves of delirious happiness, for a few hours, a few days, a few weeks. Damn it, you so want to be that porcelain and sit behind that glass. And so you polish yourself to a gleam, even the merest speck of dust cannot survive the strict scrutiny you subscribed yourself to. You polish yourself to a gleam, subtly changing your ways, pushed to new limits, throwing the old out the window and greeting the new like a warm, warm lover.

(https://c1.staticflickr.com/5/4111/5064467658_43982b8f7d_z.jpg)

And just as you think yourself ready, you see those other porcelain jars, primping prettily behind those glasses. And they make you doubt yourself. How can a sturdy and reliable ceramic jar be a dainty, fragile porcelain jar? They have been sitting behind those glasses for like forever. And they make you question yourself. Do you even want to sit behind a protected glass? They don't even know what it's like to be a sturdy and reliable ceramic jar. And they make you feel scared. Could you stay as a porcelain jar forever? They always seem to be porcelains without any effort at all.

So you stop. That high you've been riding on deflate, so abrupt that you don't even have to catch yourself as you fall. It leaves you feeling empty, feeling like you're stuck in a limbo -- not wanting to be a dainty, fragile porcelain jar but not wanting to remain a sturdy and reliable ceramic jar either. So you ask yourself. What now? 

Yeah. What now?

Story of My Life

(Grabbed from 9gag)

If Only

You think of him and hope he thinks of you.

You smile at him and hope he smiles at you.

You see him and hope he sees you. 

You're together, walking, holding hands. You gaze at him, looking at the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, the way his whole face lights up when he's feeling light and happy. He looks down at you and his disarming lip corners curve. He whispers something to you and you laugh. You hold on to his arm, and he holds you close, close to his heart. You smile while in the comfort of his arms. You close your eyes and you sigh. There is nowhere else you'd rather be in the world. 

But you're not. You're not in the safety of his embrace, hearing his heartbeat, feeling the warmth of his lips on yours. You're behind that impenetrable glass, your fingertips grazing the cold, cold surface. You want to shout, to pound your fist on the barrier that separates you from him. You slide bonelessly on the floor. And you rock to and fro, your arms going around your body, giving you the comfort you badly need from him. You could pray to all the gods but he's all that you need to listen.

You think of him and hope he thinks of you.

You smile at him and hope he smiles at you.

You see him and hope he sees you.

Time

Why does time seem to be longer when we're waiting, and shorter when we're not minding it?

This thing all things devours;
Birds, beasts, trees, flowers;
Gnaws iron, bites steel;
Grinds hard stones to meal;
Slays king, ruins town,
And beats mountain down. 

-The Hobbit, J.R.R. Tolkien

WHY DO WE WANT THE THINGS WE CAN'T HAVE?

Paranoia

Head bowed, her eyes fixed on the ground, she was a darker figure walking on a dark alley, her old, weathered sneakers hitting the pavement the only sound that can be heard. A cold gust of wind hugged her from behind and she clutched at her jacket tightly, rubbing her hands on her arms, bringing little warmth on this cold, cold night.

Thump. Thump.

Like a wolf scenting blood, her head snapped up and she paused on her tracks, her whole body suddenly alert and tensed. She strained her ear to listen but not another sound was heard. She resumed her leisurely gait, the tension from her shoulders slowly flowing down all the way to her toes.

Thump. Thump.

This time she ignored the sound, attributed it to an overactive imagination. But then she felt a cold hand of wind on her shoulders, and the hairs behind her neck stood, a ripple of shiver running down her body. She hugged herself tightly and lengthened her strides, her leg muscles protesting against the sudden strain.

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

Her breath hitching, she started to run, as fast as her limbs could carry her, adrenaline pumping the beat of her heart. It seemed that the sound was just behind her, so close she could almost feel it. She heard almost a faint sobbing, not realizing that it was her own. She dare not look around, she was more than terrified of what could be behind her.

She saw light nearby, a spot of pavement illuminated by a post lamp, the only one in that dark alley. Gasping, cold painful breaths struggling to come out of her tight throat, she stopped and put her hands on her knees. After a few seconds of utter silence, her body still taut as a wire, she began to straighten up and threw head. And laughed. And laughed. And laughed until tears washed her eyes. So foolish, so foolish of her to think someone or something is following her. There is none, of course. This time, with a confidence she hadn't felt in what seemed like an eternity, she glanced behind her shoulders.

And her scream pierced the dark, cold night.

The Default

As I smeared lipstick on my lips, as red as the cherry on top of my cocktail drink the night before, I can't help but feel giddy. We're meeting again tonight. Oh how delicious, how heady this feeling is. I can't hardly wait. I dabbed precious drops of my perfume on my collar bone, on my neck, behind my ears, on my wrists and just a tease of it on my breasts. Let him drool, I smirked, and slicked down my hands down my hips, down my navy blue satin dress. I tiptoed and put on my heels, walked towards the couch, and made myself comfortable on it. 

20 minutes.

Hey, he's late. But it's okay. I didn't call him, didn't want to seem so eager. Maybe he just got tied up in his work.

35 minutes.

I'm not naturally a patient person. I kept checking my phone for missed calls, although I'm sure I would've noticed his call because I was holding my phone the whole fucking time. I irritably kicked off my shoes and lied down on the sofa. I placed my phone, face down, beside me. Maybe we shouldn't go out tonight. I am becoming pissed with every minute. 

55 minutes.

Okay, that's it. I texted him, "Where are you?". I refused to remove my gaze from it, willing him to answer. 5 mins.. 10.. 15... Oh, fuck it! I hate waiting. Scratch that, I loathe it. No way I'm calling him.My pride is one of my greatest weakness. I left my phone on the sofa and with my temper brewing closer to the edge, I stomped towards my room. I removed my dress, my earrings, my watch. I didn't even bother with my make-up. I plopped down on my bed and pulled the blanket over my body with short, jerky movements and willed myself to just sleep.

-----------

First thing I did when I woke up was check my phone. Still no word from him. Maybe I should start worrying, something bad may have happened to him. I bit my lip and started to look up his name in my contacts. Before I could call, someone knocked on my door.It could be him. All irritation from the night before rapidly fading, I started towards the door and opened it. It wasn't him. It was a mutual friend of ours.

"Hey," I said, gesturing him in. "What's up?"
"Nothing, I was just around the neighborhood and thought of visiting you."
"You're up early. That's weird. Or," I smiled slyly, "you were up the whole night. Got a date?"
"Haha. You got me."

I turned around, with the purpose of going to the kitchen to make him some coffee, when his next words stopped me in my tracks.

"I saw James last night at the restaurant. He was with Hannah. They were so sweet.I think it's good they're back together."

I think there was a loud buzzing in my ears. I think the world tilted violently under my feet. I don't know. I couldn't remember. I don't even remember sitting down on one of the dining chairs. But I remember looking down at my hands, surprised that they were balled tight into fists, my knuckles turning white. 

WHY? Why this reaction? That shouldn't have bothered me. It shouldn't have made me feel like a lance was piercing through my chest. We were nothing. We were just two, consenting adults who wanted to have fun. I admit I was surprised when we started, I never even imagined we'll be together. I don't even like him. He was just not my type. And I sincerely doubt if he likes me, too. But when it, whatever it was, began, we just couldn't stop. I knew he was patching things up with his estranged wife. And back then, I just didn't care. Because I was so sure I wouldn't feel anything for him. The thought of being with him seriously didn't even enter my mind. So what's happening now? I am not a novice in this game. But I am a stranger to the whatever I am feeling now. Could it be that I want more? No! My mind instantly rejected the idea. Of course not. But am I saying no, because I really don't want more? Or because that I know I shouldn't want more? Even if I do, I don't want to compete with her. I don't have the heart to do that. I know they should be together. But what about me? I shouldn't even think of that, as I am certain he hasn't thought of us that way. The only love we had was made in the bedroom. It was just all fun and games. No. I couldn't. I wouldn't. I shouldn't.

"Hey. Hey. Are you alright? You're so pale!"

I gazed blindly at my friend, fixing an overbright smile on face. "Yes, I'm alright. I'm perfectly alright."

UP, You Break My Heart

I was using Twitter last night when I read a tweet about a UP Manila freshman committing suicide. A student killing herself is not entirely new to me. Who could forget about the freshie in Kalayaan dormitory (UP Diliman) who supposedly locked herself inside her cabinet during sembreak just because she failed Math 17 on her first try? She now, as rumored, continues to haunt the halls of the said dormitory. She took her life because of grades. But to kill oneself because of the inability to pay tuition fee? At a supposedly public university, a national one at that?

I read the news about the incident (http://ph.news.yahoo.com/up-manila-student-takes-own-life-070555702.html) and I don't exactly know how to feel. I am, most certainly, saddened by the waste of life, over helpless circumstances that made this student decide to kill herself. I am angered that my university has become a part of this waste. This made me, finally, ask myself if University of the Philippines is becoming a university for the middle and upper class only.

"[S]tudents are advised to file LOA if they failed to meet the deadline of tuition payment," UP Manila Prof. Carl Marc Ramota said via Facebook.

What? When? Where? Why?? I have never known that such a harsh policy was being implemented at our university. True, that I come from UP Diliman, but to be informed that there is such evil, such monstrosity of a rule existing within the UP system, regardless of what campus, is truly disheartening and disappointing. I am fully aware that UP is fighting a budget cut. But have we really come to this? And we were led to believe that we are all scholars of the country.

I scrolled down to the comments section of the article and came to this:
"Tax money natin ang budget ng U.P., may mga subsidy pa, grants, etc. Maraming pera. "

Oh how the commentor be more wrong. I remember encountering this line of thought when I was still in the university, "Hindi lang naman taxpayers ang nagpapaaral samin e. Parents namin." Tuition fee in UP has increased a full 300% since 2007. Students in Bracket A are paying P1,500/unit and students in bracket B, P1,000/unit. Our tuition fee is relatively cheaper compared to other universities. But they are not low enough to merely dismiss it as cheap. My payment every semester sums up to nearly P30,000 while my sister's, who is studying at University of Sto. Tomas, amounts to P40,000++. The fee isn't the only financial burden every student has to consider. Costs of books and readings, trips, food allowance, dorm payments (which has a surcharge of 5% when delayed), etc. etc. It is NOT cheap to study. And it is not true that the Filipino citizens are the only ones paying for our studies, for our parents and guardians sweat a lot, too, for us to be able to continue our studies.

And the second half of his comment went like this:
 "Bakit ganito ang pamamalakad nila? Matinding paniningil sa mga students. Palitan ang mga opisyales, they have defeated the noble purpose of the UP charter."

This made me remember my life in UP. Admittedly, I was not a student who had a hard time settling my fees and who worried about my allowance. My circle of friends were also not like that. We could afford to go out, have fun, and spend what is left of our allowances. I know a lot of well - off students, students who own cars, who have drivers, daughters and sons of infamous personalities. And I know very few people who are really just struggling to stay at the university. UP is a small society of different classes. And to be honest, I know more of those who are well- off than those who are not, but never have I thought that my university has been slowly discarding students who really study at the national university because it's the only school they can afford. This issue forced to me take a step back of my personal comfort zone. Whatever happened to "Ang UP ay para sa mga mahihirap?"

I could say that the freshwoman who died was weak, for she had a lot of choices and she could have chosen to fight and not surrender, but who am I to judge her, one who has not been forced into that kind of situation? Would I be as strong as I believe I would be, when all I wanted was to study and graduate and help pull my family out of that murky place that is poverty, only to find out that I couldn't? I don't want to judge, for every person has her own way of handling obstacles in life. And I know people who have been into more intense problems than this student but have decided to be strong. But who am I to tell what's worse and what's not?


Oh UP, how you break my heart. </3


Links for related articles:
http://www.manilachannel.com/2013/03/15/unpaid-tuition-pushed-up-manila-student-to-commit-suicide/
http://www.thepoc.net/breaking-news/breaking-stories/18043-up-manila-freshman-commits-suicide-over-tuition-woes.html

Love Drunk

It's a different feeling, a new feeling. But she's been here before and she knows better than not to think it's only a phase.

PHASE. PHASE. PHASE. PLEASE.

Complicated, is what it is. Better get busy, busy, busy. Complicated, is what it is.

To experience something new, to relive it again and again and again. To experience something new and not want to relive it again and again and again.

There's nothing she can do but think of it time and time again. To stare off into space and lose herself. To snuggle back to bed and let her mind drift to wherever it chose. But of course she doesn't want to. There's an alien, a foreign thing lurking inside of her. She must be grateful, shouldn't she, that it's only lurking? But what if.. Oh no, she must not think of what if's. And a favor she should give to herself, a favor that she must not.

What of this muttering, what of this endless thinking. What of this wishing and yearning. What of this?

She is not at all Icarus who wants to stray closer, much closer to the sun.

No, she is not.

Can't breathe, can't sleep, crazy, what you do to me
Head is smokin', feeling my heart is open
So hazy, but it's alright, you take me, to the dark side
Dangerous, but I'm fearless


My eyes are blue but I'm seeing red
And I just can't shake you outta my head
Maybe maybe maybe, maybe maybe maybe


I'm a little bit love drunk
Ever get the feeling when you're miles away
Everybody's looking at me walking, stumbling
Hardly talking, mumbling, going red in the face
Promise I've been drinkin' only lemonade, it's all I take
My hearts just on one about someone
And I'm a little bit love drunk


Feelin' so hot, I'm taking your clothes off
Glasses steamed up, I'm dreaming that no one can see us
Lying underneath the stars, Jupiter hits on Mars
And it hits me so hard


My eyes are blue but I'm seeing red
And I just can't shake you outta my head
Maybe maybe maybe, maybe maybe maybe


I'm a little bit love drunk
Ever get the feeling when you're miles away
Everybody's looking at me walking, stumbling
Hardly talking, mumbling, going red in the face
Promise I've been drinkin' only lemonade, it's all I take
My hearts just on one about someone
And I'm a little bit love drunk


Drippin' out on the floor
Freaking out for sure
Still I need you more
You knock me down with those eyes
And do it every time
Can't shake you out of my mind


Just a little bit love drunk, head in the clouds
And that will never be a hater that can bring us down
I've been slurring my words and I don't know what to say
But it's a feeling that I believe in, never felt this way


And I swear I don't even like Hennessy
They call me love drunk cuz I'm far from tipsy
They call me love drunk, what are you doing to me?
They call me love drunk cuz I'm far from tipsy


My eyes are blue but I'm seeing red
And I just can't shake you outta my head
I'm getting so hot that I'm getting cold
I'm a feverish and I'm about to blow
Maybe maybe maybe, maybe maybe maybe


I'm a little bit love drunk
Ever get the feeling when you're miles away
Everybody's looking at me walking, stumbling
Hardly talking, mumbling, going red in the face
Promise I've been drinkin' only lemonade, it's all I take
My hearts just on one about someone
And I'm a little bit love drunk

I'm a little bit love drunk
I'm a little bit love drunk
I'm a little bit love drunk

I'm a little bit love drunk
My eyes are blue but I'm seeing red
I'm a little bit love drunk

Source: http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/littlemix/lovedrunk.html

The Butterfly

(Imported from Facebook. Written on September 19, 2012)

The glare of the sun hurt her eyes. But no matter, the pain was welcome. She lifted her face towards the big ball of fire, and fought with the white hot pain of the scorching heat.

A second, a minute, an hour, a day, a week, a month, a year. She finally stopped and bowed her head down. She was blind, she could feel. She was enveloped with white starkness. Blindly, slowly, she lowered herself to the ground. Felt the moistened grass under her palms.

She sighed. A whispering of the lips that drifted to the wind, even far beyond what her mind could conjure. Wallowing in the blankess of her sight, she allowed herself to finally, finally shut off from the world and listen to her mind.

She wondered what it was like to be more - more of the green meadows she was forever lying on. More of the faces that swarm before her day by day. More of the voices that drone on and on, never seeming to change, voicing ideas that never seem to be more than what they were before.

She lusted for everything beyond her grasp. She lusted for everything her fingertips couldn't touch. Wouldn't it be a joy? Wouldn't it be like quenching a thirst? It is after all a hunger that all food can not satisfy. She tried to satisfy it, didn't she? But to no avail.

The lust was a quick pull on her belly, a slow liquid warmth spreading through her, within her. It was almost sexual- almost, but not quite. The urge was more. No. It's not an urge. A yearning, perhaps? Yes, a yearning. A yearning so intense it gradually brings on physical pain. A pain she accepts, welcomes, and even crave.

She wanted a globe, not a map. An ocean, not a sea. A library, not a book. Oh how she wanted everything of everything. A smile flitted on her lips. She could almost taste the wonder on her tongue. Such a sweet sweet taste. More than the nectar a butterfly sips on her beloved flowers.

Yes, a butterfly. Maybe she could be a butterfly. Fly with the wind a caress on her face. Flitter everywhere, everywhere. Over the mountains, around the forest, under the rippling waters of the ocean-- but could she, if she was a butterfly? No matter, no matter. This is her mind. She could do anything inside her mind.

A second sigh escaped from her lips. But those are all that can escape, these sighs of her. And with this thought lurking in her mind, the smile was replaced with wistfulness.

She opened her eyes. She was blind no more. She tilted, then moved her head from left to right, taking in a panoramic view of her world. Her world, she must remember. How stupid it was to forget.

Slowly, ever so slowly, she stood and made way for home.

"I want adventure in the great wide somewhere

I want it more then life can tell

And for once it might be grand to have someone understand

I want so much more than they've got planned."

-Belle's Reprise