Because I am leaving, and certain family members aren’t at all supportive with me leaving, I finally popped my level of tolerance after my aunt actually told me this: "You’re going to regret going back to Tacloban. You’re going to beg your mom for you to come back here in Manila after you see how terrible the condition Tacloban is in"
You honestly think I can’t handle its condition? I braved the streets right after the storm, I’ve seen more dead bodies than you could even imagine. I’ve suffered for four days and three nights in the city’s worst condition. Surely I can survive it now that it’s recovering. This is the reason why I’m leaving, I don’t like being too close with people who honestly don’t give a shit, I can’t keep locking myself in a terrible apartment with hardly anything to keep myself company. I’d leave because I find it better to actually stay in a place where I don’t have to listen to people who gives the worst advice and to be quite frank, you were never there for me when I suffered depression and trauma. You can go on and on about my own welfare but let’s face it, you don’t know a single shit about how I face my problems. So shut up.
I like the space between being half-awake from a dream you just had. Where you can still remember fragments of your dream, where the room feels surreal because you’re still focusing on what memory you had while you were asleep. It’s like a tug-of-war between reality and fantasy and you almost always choose to pull harder on the side of the latter. But that’s just it, you’re wide awake and everything catches up to you and you forget a huge chunk of detail from what you had just dreamed.
How I spent my day thinking about you
i. I wake up and caress the spot next to me. Often times I’ve realized we no longer share the same bed. I roll to the other side and convince myself to get back to sleep.
ii. Coffee and sandwiches. No longer making huge meals since the table I’ve set is only good for myself.
iii. Reading books to take my mind off things, but the character flaws only remind me of my own.
iv. Break by the terrace. The beachfront view is soothing but I’d rather remember the times we shared the view together.
v. I re-read your last texts, telling me I don’t take things seriously. I smile wryly, bowing my head as I shake it. "You don’t know me. You don’t know me at all."
My thoughts (or lack of) on Angels
Have I ever told you that I have never thought nor questioned about the existence of angels? I have lived for 18 years and have seen many versions of stories and pictures of angels but I’ve never truly hoped for a guardian angel to guide me. I have never really wondered if they existed. I have no idea why this is so, even now, I still can’t find a reason to believe or more so, think about angels.
Way back when, I always had my dad draw me pictures of devils, never angels. My parents didn’t raise us to the thoughts of a sacred messenger of God to guide us too sleep. They were always straightforward with the whole ‘Jesus-will-guide-you’ notion.
I can’t even refer to nice people as angels. Is this a problem? I don’t see it that way. But I guess it would be good for me to actually start thinking more of angels other than the usual myths I believe them to be.
"Jack, Jack, come back…" -Rose
Hi yes, uhm, I’d like to start a petition for Jack Gleeson to NOT retire from acting because I seriously love his acting skills and I think a lot of people will love him too, also because King Joffrey is dead and I don’t think I’ll ever see him (Gleeson) again if he doesn’t act anymore. Huhuhu
I’ve spent too many hours thinking about what to write or what to post or what to tell about how my day is going. But the longer I tried, the more I realized that I really don’t care if I have to share every waking detail of my life. It’s not a sad truth, but an honest one. And also, there’s been a lot of rummaging on my part, either through my head, or archives or memories and still I find little decency in them.
I guess this is just a curse put on me for not being able to do anything productive. I don’t want to start doing things I really have no motivation in doing. There is very little action that I take in it. Pure non-sense this post is.
Look outside your window. Do you see all the lights from all those buildings? They are lit for a reason. Maybe a father is working late, striving to make ends meet for his family. Or a mother had woken up to her baby’s cries. Maybe they’re windows to lovers’ bedrooms, making love or talking about their plans for the future.
All those lights on the windows of great apartment buildings, so many lives that spring differently from the other. Your light is open as well, and your story just as unique and important. It may not seem significant as of the moment but realizing the true possibilities of those lights, makes you wonder if your light is just as bright or if it contributes a sight to the illumination of this city.