the thing about being too nice is that people would often neglect you because they know they can get away with it. they would tell you all sorts of stupid crap and often you are expected to nod and smile as if it doesn't hurt. the word sorry is overused. people don't know anymore what it really means to be sorry. the sincerity is all gone and then sorry becomes just like any typical everyday word we use like eat, sleep and work. and that's sad because the word sorry is supposed to link people into creating better relationships and saying it more than 50 times without really meaning it doesn't make any sense at all. when you are truly sorry there is this effort being created that you would try and not do it again. this effort is there because you care and you value the person. just as the word sorry has lost it's value, people have also forgotten the value of honesty.
oh. what a sad world we live in.
“The truth is heavy; therefore few care to carry it.” – Anonymous
We live in a world polluted with ignorance, greed and falsities. And since the world demands so much from us, we tend to lose ourselves in the process of living and thus we join the cluster of hypocrites following the only trend that will never go out of style. And that’s lying. This is probably the biggest fight we have ourselves to deal with everyday. From our hectic lifestyles, to peer pressure, to small temporary pleasures, to saving our pride – yes, we always have our reasons for lying. And though we may not be conscious about it but our souls I t is getting a bit choked up with all these dishonesty. Because for one, it destroys our identity next it destroys the relationships that we have and before we know it, it destroys our lives.
…And so Billy Joel sings “Honesty is such a lonely word, everyone is so untrue.”
We all wear different kinds of disguises. Because for us there is always that dire need to cover something. For some, it maybe because of a broken heart; for some of a wounded ego; for some maybe it’s their insecurities that they don’t want to show. But whatever reason we may have truth be told we masked ourselves because we are afraid to look weak from the outside. We resort to become selfish pretentious people trying to save ourselves from feeling loneliness to become happy when in fact that’s the exact reason that is making us miserable. We ceased to be honest to ourselves. We are always seeking the approval of some other people forgetting that it’s not their life that you’re leading it’s yours. What do I want? Who do I love? Where do I want my life to go? What dreams do I have? Questions we ask ourselves everyday, yet we let other people decide on the answers. Why? Because we fear rejection, we fear pain, we fear reality.
You know, everyone of us is a kid inside regardless of the age that we have. And just like everyone else in this world I am kid too and I wear a mask. (Though mine is a bit crazy-looking with all this multicolored sequins and feathers and flowers – just kidding.) I used to be very sensitive though I don’t really know now where all that sensitivity had gone to. Figured life had thrown me too many love/peer/family dilemmas that ended up in a very unfeeling me. I hate bad news. I hate hearing anything that’s sad and lonely. I don’t watch the news because I don’t want to see people killing other people. I know its reality and that scares me. I surround myself with all things nice and pretty. I appreciate drama from time to time but I close my eyes to the most horrible. Nothing hurts me the more than the feeling of infidelity but for some odd reasons too I seem to come face to face with it almost all the time. See, I filter out the melancholic areas in my life to keep me going on. We are going through so much in my family now – that being tough is the only emotion there is to consider. And when you’ve locked yourself to that sensation, it’s when you stop feeling your heart and start pertaining everything else with your brain.
Dealing with the truth is never easy, being honest about it is worst. While truth is the information that describes the actual events of things, honesty is the character or behavior of the person. Conversely, dishonesty can be defined simply as behavior with the intention to deceive. Everyday we are confronted with the challenge of being true to ourselves. It is hard – yes very. It is struggle, but as Jim Davis once said “the truth will set you free, but first it will make you miserable.” And he is right. The path to truth is strewn with thorns – but after the initial few steps these thorns would cease to matter. Because matter truth will not hurt us, it will only awaken our soul.
errors, mistakes, inaccuracies and lapses.
i had my share of tiny miscalculations.
but this one i know, is the biggest erratum of all.
i tried to be optimistic about it. and i tried to be hopeful.
but it always has been a set of misfortune.
when i talk about such matters, she doesn't really listen.
but instead, she talks and she talks some more;
on why i cant seem to appreciate her old college cracks.
and i say 'well, it is old college. so i need some update.'
i don't know how to play the part of being me
when, i cant really see the 'her' she promised me.
though i know, that change doesn't come in a breeze
well at least, allow me to see some symmetry.
pipe dreams don't come everyday and so does leniency.
of course, i'm only human to nauseate and capitulate.
maybe i should--- bury my head in the sand
or maybe i should, just bury your head in the sand.
i wonder what came over me, when i decided to pick you
when i knew that you dismay and mortify me.
was it love? oh maybe. what an idiot i had been.
i wish life had rewinds, i'd definitely undo the whole enchilada.
so, here i am knocking myself out with all these love drama
sometimes smiling, sometimes weeping
sighing for what could have been more desirable than this.
oh yes. i am trap. trap in this galling loop of self-reproach.
how sad.
It was only a year ago when I met Joni. I was 19 then. I have just been staying in Manila for two months when I met him online. When we finally met, it wasn’t really love at first sight but since I found him strange and not to mention overly attractive, I said yes when he asked me to be his girlfriend. I only realized that I was indeed in love with him three months after.
Joni didn’t treat me like a princess. In fact he treated me like I was just an inch above being his friend. And no, I wasn’t used to that. With my past relationships, I have always been treated like a queen. I’d get flowers every month, tons of presents and not to mention surprises enough to sweep any girl off to cloud nine; while his idea of a sweet valentine date was to take me on a bus trip to Quezon City to go to UP and eat isaw. So much for the candle lit dinner that I half-expected.
Joni just wasn’t the romantic–type. But then months after, I got used to his weird and practical ways of showing his love to me and that’s when I fell in love with him. I’d say, we shared a lot of adventures together like going out-of-town or jumping from one train to another just looking for that Japanese siomai we’re both so craving for. He was sweet and malambing to me. He would always look out for my health and would take care of me every time I get sick. Sometimes, he’d even sing me songs just so I could go to sleep. Joni taught me that love is beyond chocolates and flowers; he taught me how to love unconditionally.
Just when I thought that nothing could go wrong between us, I was confounded with the thought of going back to Cebu. Yes, I was enjoying being in love in Manila but then my mom saw me losing myself along the process. I got too crazily involved. There were times when I’d just sit and wait around Joni’s office for seven hours until he’s off so I could be with him again. I got to clingy. And my life stopped its spinning. School was fun but I wasn’t active. I submitted myself to everything that he wanted but then when I started getting anxiety attacks and depression hit me big time I knew then that something was awfully wrong. I couldn’t sleep at night. I’d burst into tears for no reason and I keep spending money over things that I don’t really need. I found shopping to be the cure to keep me sane. Id blow up on small matters and I was always starting fights. It was then I decided to go back to Cebu. Since then, life between us two was never the same again.
The painful reality of being so far way from Manila crushed me. I tried long-distance relationship twice and none of them worked. I was afraid of losing the relationship I worked so hard to preserve. The first month was a wreck. We’d fight everyday over small things and he had a problem with me and my extra-curricular activities. I wasn’t allowed to go out with friends. He wanted me home early everyday yet he would start on fights when he too got stressed from work. Money was a crucial matter. Since flying to Cebu every month is expensive we’d often fight about the expenses involved during his stay. It seems to me that we were going downhill but then again there was love. We tried to talk out solutions to solve the conflicts involved. I learned how to be less demanding of time and attention. I became even more patient and so did he. We found a middle ground and we set deals to avoid long-time wars. We promised to stay true to each other no matter what. Not long after, everything became less complicated and I started to breathe in again hope that we can get through this after all.
It’s been more than four months since I got here in Cebu. And Joni and I had just celebrated our first year of being together last December. And no, we did not spend it together. Truth is we only get to see each other every two months; if we’re lucky enough to have saved enough for a getaway. But of course there’s school and work. The hardest part wasn’t really the separation – it was the realization the Joni and I could no longer be actively present when one is in the dire need of comfort and encouragement. It has been so hard waking up each day and getting hit with that realization that I still have to spend two years before actually going back there to Manila. I’m afraid that I can never overcome the pain of it every day. I only wish that I could at least learn to get used to the situation and the solidity of it all.
These days, I smile and laugh with my friends trying very hard to get my life on track. But there were times when I would just cry while in the middle of doing something, feeling that intense longing to see him. Joni just wasn’t my boyfriend; he was my best friend too. My decision to come back here in Cebu caused major turns in the manner I treat life and relationships in general. I learned that being in love doesn’t really mean submitting your whole world; in fact it’s very important for each couple to give enough space for each other to grow and to sustain a healthy relationship. It is also very important to love oneself first before loving someone else. But of course, how can I love if I don’t even love myself? As the months passed I have become stronger, I discovered courage I never thought I had. I learned to value the people I love, and to never let a day pass without letting them know it. I felt like the decision was all worth it. Now, I am happy. I’m in love and I’m contented. My fairytale story with Joni has just begun, we may be far from each other but I know soon we’ll be together again. In the mean time, I guess I’ll just have to content myself with phone calls and text messages till we meet again. After all, as the famous novel writer Nicholas sparks once wrote, ‘the reason it hurts so much to separate is because our souls are connected. Maybe they always have and will be. Maybe we’ve lived a thousand lives before this one and in each of them we’ve found each other. And maybe each time, we’ve been forced apart for the same reasons. That means that this goodbye is both a goodbye for the past ten thousand years and a prelude to what will come.’
The future looks like a black canvas waiting for me to be painted on; yet to be filled with magnificent colors from my palette of emotions. I am currently in a cynical state of considering that amateurish idea of without end. So many eras have passed; some old narratives seem to have amused the human cranium that such blissful endings do exist. In this pitiless world of impostors how can it possibly subsist? I feel sad to suppose that all elated feeling of pleasure will one way or another come to a tragic end. It proffers absolutely no console to hear foolish expressions of possibilities. In fact, this mere thought of indisputable reservation scares me. There are just some chronicles that I wish would never end. Schmaltzy stories I’d still want to feel thrilled after years of hearing them repetitively. Better yet, permanent love from the one I feel eternally bound to. And yes the future looks awful. Who will fly with me towards the sky? Paint with me this canvas of the heavens in timeless glee.
Just when I thought I’ve created my boulder of idyllic potency; the angry gods propelled lightning to smash every bit of my precious stamina. The nub within my quintessence has reached the climax of sensational damage; that every inch of my mortality had been murdered in numerous macabre ways. I have been identified as a big shot of succulent character; celebrity of adulterous women; damsels advertising corporal lust in the streets. I am a portrayal of the devil on lease; the angel tied with the ropes of deceit. Everything that surrounds me is a replica of that woman who stares back at me in the mirror. She hates me as much as I hate her. She is a product of much liberty; I am product of futile love. How sad they sing the song to the gods to have mercy on stupid Pandora. The creation of hope is a lie. Nor love. Women like me, to the society; we are incapable of sensitivity. We know nothing but to give temporary panorama’s of a blissful infinity. Often times, I failed to abide the law of wintry. So many times I’ve gasped the suffocating air of a fanatical genuine; that thing they call love. But here I am, on the verge of sacrificing yet my whole makeup to a fresh face of naïve serenity; to one boy I met along the filthy streets. Is it wrong to ask for love; to beg for it; to long for it like a hungry child? This is imprudence! This is sordid! yet I am famished. I placed the cards on the table. Some aged belief to predict an upcoming misery. I hummed a tune of some old, old love song. The candle flickered on one corner. The blade went through and through. Macrobiotic obsession of despair inflicted on the membrane of my shell. I heard your voice in a sing song. I mutely cried. You have failed the sagacity of my now failing system. The scheme you have shrewdly planned; brought my ruin. Who are you to judge me of who I am; you don’t know anything. Because lovers are like that, momentary pleasure that’s what you get and that’s what WE offer.