Sunday, June 21, 2015

Should Have Been


When my dad died, I realized that the saddest part of my situation was that I've allowed myself to be hurt so much in the past that I've somehow forgotten what it's like to feel pain. I've become so numb and so used to the whirlpool of depression that I wasn't capable of mourning for my own father. I cried of course, but there was always this empty space inside me and it was longing for grief and desolation. It was frustrating because I couldn't give it.

I am ashamed of the petty love life issues that have mercilessly scythed me in the past. I am ashamed that I couldn't mourn. I am ashamed that I was apathetic. I am ashamed because I wasn't sad enough. And I  know I should have been very sad.

Friday, June 19, 2015

Matilda Molded Me


It was only after watching Matilda again when I realized how much the film has shaped my childhood. It was Matilda and her eternal love for literature that has fueled me to actually indulge in fiction (and maybe also made me hope that more than 10% of my brain will be unhinged to enable me to control things with my mind).

Fiction has truly influenced me and enabled me to filter myself into every character that I read, to fill somebody else's shoes, to empathize with his struggles and revel with his joys. Fiction actually made me a better person.  It allowed me to look beyond what people portray. I know what it's like to be a boy in Nazi Germany, an old man fishing for the greatest catch of his life or a passive-aggressive 30-year old who's looking for his wife.

I am simply and naturally in love with fiction. And I am certainly glad that my path, and Matilda's, crossed.

Sunday, June 14, 2015

June


June is moving like a snail and I am itching to have a job. This rainy month is making me drink too much caffeine and the Indian drums in my little heart have been pounding day in and day out.

I also think that I've been listening to too much Sam Smith because In The Lonely Hour literally feels like one giant moist chocolate cake. I can no longer distinguish one song from another like as if the melodies of every song have been seamlessly layered together into one decadent pastry piece. It's a beautiful mixture really - strangely haunting at times, bittersweet, but incredibly addictive.

Tuesday, June 9, 2015

My Soul is Tired


Recently, my plans to work in Cebu are hanging by a thread. Not because my Mom doesn't want me to, but because it somewhat feels wrong to live my life there. There's this dark cloud looming over the plan and no matter how hard I try to clear my head, the dark cloud just keeps shading on the idea.

For one, I'd miss out on a lot of family stuff if I do work in the Queen City. Secondly, my Mom's old and it somehow feels like running away from my responsibilities if I leave her on her own. She's completely okay with me working there though, and I have cousins who live practically next door, but still.. .Thirdly, working on Cebu feels like I'm chasing a futile love affair. And it feels frustrating because everything seems that way even if I know deep inside that things have changed, that I have changed, and that I've already grown comfortable with the idea of living by myself.

I'm tired of explaining. And convincing myself. And convincing others. It's exhausting. Thinking's exhausting. Everything's exhausting.  I'll just let this roll and get it over with. My soul is tired.