slipping like freud?

so a while ago i was chatting with someone and i realized a couple of sentences after that the word i wrote was wrong.

i corrected it as soon as i saw it, though sure enough the person i was messaging caught the error and called me on it. his read of the mistake, given our history, made me question if like freud i was slipping all over the place.

i dunno how my brain connects to my fingers at times, but in case i really am a freudian case study i will not even bother to deny anything. (and you, you imaginative mind you, if you read this, go and gloat)

then looking at the status message displayed on the icon beside my name and seeing that it said available, i wondered again. like friendster where from your profile you can choose to indicate your status with "single" or "in a relationship" or "married" or "domestic partnership" or "it's complicated", what are you really saying?

available (and looking pa!)

single (and really really desperate)

single (and looking but not really)

single (thank god! have you seen the poor excuses for the male species tht have been walking the planet lately?ew!)

single (i might consider a relationship. or a fling. or a date.)

single (don't even think about it)

single ( just got dumped)

single (just dumped someone)

single (i played the field but the field played me better)

in a relationship (and happy that i am)

in a relationship (i took the first offer there was)

in a relationship (and looking to get out)

in a relationship (i'd rather say i'm single except the significant other caught me and now i've to say i'm taken.)
married (just last week)

married(and regretting the day i said i do)

married (with children)

married (but open to the idea of a fling)

married (and forever i will be) also known as (i caught myself a good one and i'll be damned if i let this one out back to sea)

domestic partnership (who am i kidding? it's called sex without marriage and property woes)

domestic partnership (living together and close to taking that next step)

domestic partnership (i do the dishes, he takes out the trash)

domestic partnership (just roommies really, but who needs to know?)

it's complicated (we're still together but it can go either way)

it's complicated (this is a preemptive strike. clean up or pack up)

it's complicated (i'm being punished. or i'm punishing someone)

it's complicated (we're kinda together, but not really)

it's complicated (does having a lot of sex on a regular basis with the same person but with an express agreement to not commit count?)

while i know that some people change their status indicators as often as they log on, some people take it seriously. when they say in a relationship, it's like "hands off". you would not believe how miserable i felt when i saw the status of two stalk-ees change years ago.

i changed mine last year and haven't seen the need to change it again since then. it's funny how many people found out i broke up with someone through friendster and how some people took a chance and asked me out based on that tiny status thing.

indicators like that, like testimonials given to crushes when you're taken already, are a very dangerous thing.

very very dangerous. seeing as there are no qualifications you can put, to show your level of satisfaction with given status. anyways, getting caught up again.

was thinking...the first time i put that i was in a relationship, i felt comfort. security. happiness. and as time went by, testament to my almost guy-ness, i started feeling that choked feeling. then went i went single, it felt like such a relief. i felt freedom. and happiness too. and like i said, i still feel that way.

and every now and then when i find myself in a situation that is deserving of a status indicator like "it's complicated" (choose the parenthetical statement), i still retain the single indicator. cause eing single i, for me, right now, where i'm at in my life, happiness. complications will abound, and to tell the truth some complications are interesting thoughts to keep, i like the part where i keep people guessing.

planetary alignments and other memories

there are things that i'm forgetting, leading me to think that thank god i am not as badly off as i thought i was a few weeks ago. but there are a lot of things i remember, and given my extraordinary knack for remembering tiny details i will probably remember them for a long time to come.

among them, and not in particular order:

you feeding me that gross looking blueberry pancake thing and patting your car affectionately while on the highway to (hell) bulacan.

the little crease on your nose and the squinty flinty eyed look you'd get whenever you got irritated.

the unbelievably slow way you drove.

you and your new wave thing and the suprising this generation singers every other playlist.

the borderline salacious message exchanges. some of them while i was in the middle of a conversation with the dean and while i was supervising the grad.

the dexter thing you pulled every now and then, almost making me forget you have seven years on me.

the five times you called me drunk to say the same thing. (and the few times or so i returned the favor)

the time we arranged to meet at select and you-i dunno why-seemed to enjoy making me look for you pa.

my almost memorizing the route to my home that you took whenever we met up.

the time when we met up in pasay and i had to pull the great escape from my sister and you got cranky from the westin guard making you leave the driveway.

the panic inducing situation in eastwood. which i still find hilarious.

the cantina night when i was with andi and you came in and ate with us and you were funny really all adult with two kids.

and there was this one time (at band camp) that we had yet another nice day and afterwards i remember you looked cute at just that angle and i marveled at the way that the planets and the moons and the stars aligned themselves, just so i could get to spend this time with this guy who i long admired who i long thought of as amusing and intelligent.

and how i hoped then that when this particular stretch ended we'd remain friends and that every now and then, weather and schedule permitting, the planets and the moons and the stars would be nice enough to realign themselves and i'd feel exactly the same way i felt that night. that one night when i was with my friend who i felt i was growing closer to and i felt that even if nothing more happened, this was the one perfect night i would remember. excpet that night was followed by a few more, maybe even better ones. but that night i remember.

me, my friend, a perfect, fun filled, soundtracked, happy happy night.


for the past few times that i have gotten the urge to bleed into paper i've been writing of you in another venue, but i feel that this one belongs here, with its brothers and sisters. mea culpa. though this is a happy moment. regardless of the twinge in my jaw.

maybe maybe not

i admit it. i am weak and lonely and really, a traitor to the feminist movement.

i should be calling what happened this summer the triumph of infatuation, a moment of insanity-long moments of insanity, something that in the end was as inconsequential as it was doomed to be brief.

and maybe in time i will be able to do that. i don't like speaking with finality about these things. for all i know i might end up thinking of this with fondness or with amazement at my phenomenal capacity for stupidity.

maybe, in time.

and maybe i might just quit referring to you here, as i have chosen another venue for those thoughts, those besttwoweeksever . maybe you'll see it, maybe you won't.

maybe. you never know.

and maybe, who knows, tomorrow i might just decide to throw hesitation to the wind like i have caution before it, and go out with them who have-seriously- made themselves available for my unwilling self.

maybe. tomorrow perhaps.

and maybe the alcohol and the dancing and the company of friends will finally be able dull the memories of nights spent with just one person, someone with whom conversations and quiet moments were alcohol and dancing really.

maybe. we'll see.

and maybe one of these days when i check a mutual friend's friendster page-of all things- and see a picture with you and your smile, your impish thirty year old smile, i won't find myself smiling back like an idiot and going back to that page for a glimpse every now and then.

maybe. soon.

but not right now.

for now i allow myself to wallow still. to remember and smile and even cry. the beginning and the in betweens and the end. the smiles and the secrets and the sadness. i read neruda's "tonight i can write" and the other sad poets whisper your name and call to mind your memories and i remember and quietly, quietly, so you won't hear, but i hope you'll care to know,

miss you.

with this i will try hard to make the last of you. for sure you are shaking your head at the period of time it is taking me to quit remembering you like the addiction you were.

but for now,

i miss you.

streets of billions

there are billions of people in this world. billions walking down crowded streets and deserted streets, headed to nowhere, headed to somewhere.

billions.

in the past week i have walked not a few of those streets alone. at times, in passing i would meet one of those billions. and the sight of one of those billions would temporarily divert my thoughts and my memories of a weekend car standoff and the cruel metaphors that brought me to my knees.

i would wonder at their lives, as i have-since time immemorial-been wont to do. their happiness, their times of sorrow, their daydreams on rainy days, the people they would declare their love from the rooftops for.

i wonder at their thoughts as they walk down the street i'm walking, if giddy with happiness looking forward to their destination, or consumed with a loneliness that even standing in the middle of a happy crowd they would not be able to escape.

i wonder, and then the fleeting moment of an uneventful encounter passes, and once again the street is mine to wander down.

i flinch at the sight of silver cars and shiver at the rare drop or two of rain that softly lands on my face. a warning of a storm to come. a warning given before that i failed to heed, that led to me walking the street alone. but i continue to walk. i grasp the umbrella i failed to open the last time it rained, and i continue to walk.

and i continue to think of those billions, of the strangers i have yet to meet, the people, part of those billions, who matter to me.

of the friend who sped through rain and kept me company through the night as i cried.

of the friends who unknowingly brought me back from a place where i was wallowing in defeat and in shame.

of the friend whose warning i failed to take to heart, who sternly delivered the "i told you so" that was made all the more painful by the fact that it came from him.

of the sister who glared at me reproachfully as a came home at dawn only to demand answers from a friend of mine when i didn't surface til night arrived.

of the friends who seeing me downcast cracked jokes and fed me forbidden sweets.

of the father who said not a word after the initial lecture but fed me and sat beside me in the silence that has been our refuge and our connection.

of the people who, knowing i would kill for them and die for them, are there even when i don't een ask for them to be there, who by their mere presence could delay the sinking of my mind into the sadness i have been feeling, so deep that no tears emerged anymore.

of the billions of people in the planet, the billions of souls that walk the earth, i am lucky to have these people.

then as i walk more and more i continue to think of those billions, those souls, and i remember one in particular, i stifle the urge to cringe at the memory and i walk on.

of the billions of souls, not even a drop in the bucket of which i have come to know, or know of even, the one soul that touched me, that one soul who should be inconsequential, who should pass from my memory like a poorly written book, is what keeps me walking.

the next few days and weeks and months will bring about a decrease in the frequency of these walks, and yet i know that i will never completely cease.

as i walk to escape a memory, so i walk to relive yet another.

hypochondriac musings

since i started watching house md i have been feeling not a little like a hypochondriac, with a little twitch here and a little stiffness there triggering thoughts of the possibility that i may have a rare disease that of course no hospital in this godforsaken metropolis will be able to cure or diagnose.

and while this fear can be dismissed as irrational or yet another manisfestation of my psychological bullshit damaged thing, every now and then i get this nagging feeling that a hospital bed and i are on a collision course.

why not? with my family having a history of the usual deadly diseases (diabetes, brain tumors, kidney problems, lung problems, parkinsons' disease, and heart problems on my mom's side and cancer, hypertension, and arthritis on my dad's side) i'm a prime candidate for dying young.

my mom has finally admitted she's diabetic, and my dad was recently diagnosed as hypertensive(hyper-tense, super tense). given my long standing love affair with sugar and meat and anything remotely anti south beach or anti atkins or anti nutritionist approved, as well as my tendency to be short with idiots who piss me off and never ending bouts of wakefulness, aren't i just a prime candidate?

and if there was ever a disease associated with klutziness or lack of coordination or athleticism, i'd be the lab rat of choice for them drug companies. i tend to trip while wearing flats or crash into tables, chairs, shelves, doors, lamps, and other inanimate objects whose only shortcoming was they were placed in places i pass by. and i tend to catch elbows with my chest or my face and heels with my feet.

my alcoholic consumption of late has been erratic, as is my tolerance of it. with food and a good night's sleep i can party pretty long into the night. with neither present, or even either missing, i either end up supremely dizzy or punished by my stomach. but i still believe i'm not a twelve step candidate, as i can pretty much spend part of the day without thinking of drinking. in my family though, emphysema-3, uncles and grandfathers-0.

i don't smoke, and i'm pretty much not into the herbal stuff or the creative pharmaceutical stuff, though i swear my lungs are dying of secondhand smoke and i think i get residual highs-lows ba? dunno- from when some of my friends start reliving woodstock and i really really wish i could take a pill that would make me not want to kill my friends when they go on pill overload. so i could still be in the future list of transplant need-ers.

but anyway. i'm just writing this cause in addition to feeling residual pain caused by my recent visits to the dentist, the lingering pain on the lower left side of my left leg caused by my slipping while walking in the rain last saturday, the bump in my head from when i crashed into the door, the weird shit phantom pain in my side i've had since forever (2002), and the bruise on my thigh and arms from my latest bouts with inanimate objects, i've been having really bad migraines that are totally ruining the rest of my summer.

differential diagnosis?

that's for the doctors to know and for me to be perpetually ignorant about. at least, til the day they prep me for my coffin.

with my compliments

How do you cool your lips
After a summer’s kiss
How do you rid the sweat
After the body bliss
How do you turn your eyes
From the romantic glare
How do you block the sound
Of a voice you’d know anywhere

Oh, I really should have known
By the time you drove me home
By the vagueness in your eyes
Your casual good-byes
By the chill in your embrace
The expression on your face
That told me
Maybe
You might have some advice to give
On how to be
Insensitive

How do you numb your skin
After the warmest touch
How do you slow your blood
After the body rush
How do you free your soul
After you’ve found a friend
How do you teach your heart
It’s a crime to fall in love again

Oh, you probably won’t remember me
It’s probably ancient history
I’m one of the chosen few
Who went ahead and fell for you
I’m out of vogue,
I’m out of touch
I fell too fast,
I feel too much
I thought that you might have
Some advice to give on how to be
Insensitive

I really should have known
By the time you drove me home
By the vagueness in your eyes
Your casual good-byes
By the chill in your embrace
The expression on your face
That told me
Maybe
You might have some advice to give
On how to be
Insensitive

compliments to you, to your cold and calculated precision, to your capacity to inflict pain, and your utter luck in not feeling any. and your unparalleled gift of forgetting.

i wish i didn't wish i was you.

in time i believe the pain will fade, and the deep twisting knives of the memories of you will not be as all consuming as they are, and i will think of this not with fondness but with a bit more maturity tempered by the cruelty of those words you spoke.

because cruelty it was. from someone who once upon a time i believed i would share happy memories with. even in passing in an unknown place. if i had known then what you were capable of i wouldn't have.

no. i would have.

because those days showed me hope of infinite possibility. cut short by the combined forces of uncontested logic and undisciplined emotions, but hope all the same. if only for that.

i am not one for regrets. i have, for every thing that i have done, every thing that has gone wrong, and every thing that has gone right, taken responsibility for my actions. right up to and including feeling this way.

hopeless. and defeated and crippled. by a friend who amazed me and i have to admit made me happy. but then again... who else but a friend, and more so a friend who knows you inside out, could inflict that kind of pain?

so mine the memories of twilights and bright daylight, mine the memories of lonely songs, mine the sorrow for the lost tomorrow.

should my friends see yet again a lingering sadness in my smile, should they recall a point where they saw me happy, and should they recall a point that happens to coincide with you and me,

mine the memory returning.

this parade, this never ending (jesus so tiring) parade, this numbness to foreboding that still allows for excruciating pain.

how i would love to be able to say that i have laid down the baton for someone else to light and twirl. but as tired as i am, as crippled as i am, as unbelievably in pain as i am,

i am still the leader of this parade.

stopping the hands of the clock

make no mistake, last saturday. i held back.

precision strikes, what your words were then. each a direct hit, designed to make me sorry i was ever born.

my words, more heat seekers, more seekers-in vain-of sanity in a night that had seen you say goodbye with a smile and then jerk away from me in anger and then reach for me in an embrace and then gaze at me with hate.

as you blamed me and called me names i have never ever been called and i should not have allowed you to call me, as you pounded your fists and you screamed at me and i could barely breathe or move, did you know?

i was running out of air and my body refused to move due to the sheer effort i was exerting to not say words i would regret. not for your sake mostly, though in part for your sake it was, but for mine. i will not truly hurt someone to avenge myself.

not even vil could get me to do that. not even kuki. or patcat. or the law school asshole/s.

as i looked into your face and i heard your words, your vile, hateful, truly hurtful words, i was fighting not to say the words that would've perfectly matched yours. i was fighting to keep in my mind the image of your face when i had held it in my hands, the image of your face lit up with laughter with me, the gentle words that you said before.

i could've walked away last friday after you screamed at me. i could've walked away saturday when you screamed yet again and blamed me for your inability to control yourself. i could've walked away and just quietly gone on hating you and the sight and the sound of you. the way i had slowly begun to after monday and your trust issues.

but i chose not to walk away cause i didn't want that. i wanted to keep my promise, to keep you in my heart as a friend. i wanted you to concede that friday and saturday were as much your doing as mine, that had friday not gone down the way it did the tenor of saturday would have been more decent.

more importantly, i wanted to see before i left a reason to not have to turn away from you in hate and in regret.

if for moments obstinacy ruled me in provoking you as i did, if i refused to do what you wanted out of a perverse desire to frustrate you even more, know that it was because i felt i could still catch a glimpse of the person i wanted to remember.

i heard everything you said, in the cloud of my pain and in the midst of my tears. every vile, hateful, hurtful word.

kudos to you for restricting the cheap shots and going for the high blows.

trust me. each word went to my heart. each word caused me pain. each word.

as you left me standing in the rain and i yet again walked in vain search of sanity in that moment, pain.

it will surprise you, given your accusation that i was a liar, to know that i will insist on this. i don't really care about what you think. but i at least will rest easy knowing i have said it.

every word was forgiven as it came out of your mouth. every word.

and i will concede this victory to you, as hard as you fought for it.

i will stop the hands of the clock that i should've stopped before. i will bury the memories of you and the happiness and the insanity here in this place, the never to be known days of careless, reckless disregard and passion, of quiet nights and solitude by the waves, of you and me.

know that i gave up the fight because in the end, to the end, to the bitter and painful end,

i didn't want to hurt you.

and i debate with myself whether or not to delete the posts i made previous, the posts since the beginning of this insanity, seeing as i wrote them with an image of you in my mind that was entirely different from the face of that saturday. but for the moment they stay. if only to remind me.

i will say, in addition to this, that as my friend you had my love.

and had i chosen to love you more than that, i guarantee you that i would've loved you unreservedly and unhesitatingly, and i would've spent every waking day making you happy i had done so. that choice is no longer available to me.

but every word, baby. each and every word, as it hit me, as it hurt me, as it came out of your mouth.

forgiven.

hesitation and defeat

my father told me once- when after floundering in the seas of self-discovery i found that i could twist words to mirror my emotions, to tell of my pain, to make someone happy-that in addition to knowing how to say things, for the most part, i know exactly WHAT to say.

at the time he said it i was in the midst of a sparring match with my second sister, who unfortunately for her had not progressed much in the way of throwing words around. and even then i understood that particular rebuke as a compliment to my skill with words and even more as a warning that i had the capacity to cause pain in a way more hurtful and unforgivable than any punch i could throw or any other move i learned from my male cousins at the height of my tomboy days.

i have always, everywhere i have been, with everyone i have come into contact with, heeded my father's words.

i use my words to write stories, to engage in banter with my more pikon sisters and my father, i use them to work, to trade insults, to throw the verbal warning punches whenever someone strikes too close for me to ignore.

but i have always heeded my father's words. and i have always held back.

even when i knew that i had this weapon to inflict pain with, even when i knew that victory was mine for the taking should i choose to use what i had. even if only to defend myself.

even at the height of my greatest pain, even at the height of the most hurtful of goodbyes.

maybe being on the receiving end of unbelievable pain an unnatural number of times has, instead of making me eager to inflict pain, made me unwilling to deal that final blow. or unleash a barrage of killer blows.

maybe at nineteen watching my love drive away from me and spending the night and the nights that followed listening to the saddest of songs, knowing i loved him too much to hurt him and not forgive him. maybe finding out that since then he has been happy with his love.

maybe at twenty when almost bleeding to death and pretending i was okay for the benefit of a worried father i spent a night walking through the rain trying in vain to look for a working phone and a way to not feel abandoned in the aftermath of what was then, and what is still, the biggest decision i have ever made in my life.

so many other maybes. so many other nights. so many other words that over and over i know i should've said if only to not seem defenseless.

how many battles have i lost because i chose to hesitate. how many times have i sought refuge in the thought, the consuelo de bobo, that i heeded my father's words yet again.

to that count, add one more.

let's dance

when in the wee hours of the morning anger wars with desire
and i look at you looking at me and we look at each other

helpless

in the wake of the admission that everything that is wrong and that is right
stems from a beginning that was insanity and a middle that seems the same.

wishing

that this close to cataclysmic encounter would shine bright white on the reason
why we have to encounter cataclysm tonight when we

promised

that platonicity and a return to friendship would accompany the
downing of alcohol instead of the

frisson

delicate then intense when your eyes are on mine and your fingers
graze mine and we court curious eyes cause there we are in the middle of a crowd

alone

still not able to deny that confusion as to the future does not make disappear the
certainty of the present that we'd rather not goodbye just yet cause this

dance

you and me and the insanity and the music and the mistakes we make
you and me and the anger and frustration and exhilaration still isn't

over

when in the wee hours you ask and i ask and we don't have the answers would you like to know what i want i want to just tell you to shut up and

let's dance.

rude awakenings and saturday catatonia

i woke up this morning without the anticipated throbbing behind the eyes and aversion to anything that is light (and yellow) that are the usual aftereffects of a night of overimbibing but to the dulcet tones of my father bellowing about the time i snuck in. i have no lingering icky feeling, but the gods of drinking have gotten their kicks in with the tragic realization that i was lucky enough to not be hungover, but i was unlucky enough to have no time to sleep all day.

the combined forces of dentist appointment and meetings with my latest volunteer thing and dinner with friends and possible close encounter with erstwhile friend and a visit with number three on my list(shhticky) make for a really full day and are now keeping me from resuming my love affair with my pillow and my bed (actually punky's bed as i am keping her company while gia is out gallivanting in pangasinan.)

imagine the pain i felt when, after i woke up after less than three hours of sleep and raced through a cold cold shower and quick breakfast-wow miracle- and grabbed a cab to katipunan all the while bracing myself for the pain i was sure i would become intimately acquainted with after my scheduled wisdom tooth extraction ( wisdom tooth worth shit no wisdom at all), the dentist told me that the procedure would have to be delayed yet again. for this, i left my x rated dream and the comfort of my blankie.

and now i'm waiting for four o clock in an internet shop in katipunan as i have a meeting for the kickoff party i have done shit for since my dad's getting sick threw me for a loop. i'm wrestling with my desire to rest and my desire to fulfill my commitments, and i think the latter will win. i think.

and for later i have an ex boy toy who may or may not visit me after he finishes his class in dil. (hmm proximity.) haven't seen him since last year round november. and im steeling myself for what is sure to be a round of coy sparring leading to more sparring. i still haven't made up my mind as to whether or not i'm looking forward to this particular segment. i'll get back to you nalang.

for now i'm checking my mail, posting useless shit, and checking friendster. moment of utter nothing. i have nothing to do. and my bed is too far away for me to do anything about doing nothing.

for sure i will keep away from alcohol tonight. it's dangerously skirting the boundaries of stupidity, and i for one prefer to be stupid sober. i've already been reprimanded, and i did listen to the reprimand. and i will heed the reprimand.

note to self: do not write shit just cause you have nothing to do.

peace. fuck it. war.

i'd headed off to the hospital to resume watch over my dad, who has for the first time ever, well since i can remember, submitted to hospital confinement so we can find out whatever the hell is wrong with him and we can go back to our marathon house watching and dinner table diatribes. though i privately agree with his theory that me being his daughter, crazy whacked out lunatic bitch that i am, has probably contributed to his condition.

while of course i'm worried-hello. two packs a day, half a case of beer to go with it. plus he's 55. or 33 as he would like us to believe.

but wait, i will take this moment to rant about the relative insensitivity of some people in the world, and the kindness of others that balance it.

i said yes to lot of committees this year. a lot. cause 1. i like helping people 2. i like planning events 3. i like working actually.

so i had academic reforms, which was a total paper overload with the theoretical bonus of overnight subic stay which i made use of not by staying up late and getting drunk but by heading off to dreamworld immediately after dinner. i still have a couple of liters of vodka by the way.

then there was national affairs, total doozy, cause hello. this is law school .land of the cono and borderline apathetic. though the little lady with the braces wearing spokesman really took care of that apathy. a blog comment here, a meeting there, but hey... i got to sit behind chiz escudero's ass during DEBATE. which for most people would be a plus.

then there was grad. it was fun mind you. the nice kuyas and ates who helped make law school easier to stomach were saying goodbye, and i wanted to personally oversee it. it has left me close to bankrupt and with ruined heels, an exhausted mind, and a completion to take in oblicon, but i loved doing it and i will do it again!!!!!

i have lots more committees to come, though they're not really work heavy til june.

but idiot that i am, i said yes again to another committee. don't get me wrong, i can handle it. it's something i'm a bit used to doing, so okay lang.

what bugs me about it is that one of the people there, upon finding out that i was in the midst of a crisis, still was insensitive enough to ask me for a progress report even after i said that i'd get to it soon enough.

when i say i can do it, fuck it, i can do it.

now given the recent state of events in my life i might just be not receiving messages right. and i understand, i really do, that the job is time sensitive. but i think i recognize insensitivity from a mile away, and it bugs me. if it turns out that my dad is really sick and i had to deal with that kind of thing, i'll be really really pissed.

but then there are the nice people, like ma'am feliciano's assistant who has been delaying my removals so i can attend to my family. and irish my beloved ex seatmate who sits one chair farther now to accomodate andrea hahahahahahaha. you guys make my day.

so to the people who want to take me down this week, the people who want to say i can't be trusted to do my job, the people who want to call me basura, the people who just just plain want to die,

give me a week. i'll get back to you.

while whacked out on anesthesia

dental visits have become so frequent for me of late that my dentist has labeled me a junkie. this due to my tendency to enjoy being given injections that would, if not send me off to la-la-land, at least numb me to pain located so near what's left of my poor brain that i can actually hear my brain screeching in agony.

and, may i ask, why should i not jump at the opportunity to feel no pain? the sound of the little drill thing as it bores its way into your mouth is enough to torture you, considering this is a thing that can make holes in solid things and is dangerously too close to your skull. this thing can slip and, you know, make you bleed.

though i think they're really marveling at the fact that i don't seem too scared about receiving injections.

well, i have harbored doubts about people with no medical degree injecting things into my veins that paralyze part of my jaw. more than once i have panicked the thought of never being able to eat without food coming out of the paralyzed side. but tiny pricking pain versus unceasing torment? hello? obvious choice.

in any case, this pain apparently will be nothing compared to the pain i will be feeling come june, when the s-and-m like torture device also known as braces will be surgically grafted-haha i'm high on hyperbole today- onto my teeth. for a year and a half my life, aka my eating habits, will be dictated by pieces of twisted metal and tiny rubber bands. i will have to bow to its rule, if i want to have my apparently anomalous jaw and freakish bite corrected.

splendid.

on a lighter note-and this blog could use this

Lifted from some guy's blogAdvice for 1L's (re-post)

Once again, I've somehow been chosen as to lead a 1L small group. Keeping with my mentoring responsibilities, I've decided to re-post my sage wisdom from this early piece:

1. Watch The Paper Chase. In fact, watch it over and over. You may even consider buying a transcript, an outline, and possibly even memorizing it. Not only is law school actually exactly as it is portrayed in that movie, but you will be tested on it come exams. In fact, if you don't cite to the movie at least three times on any given question, you've probably failed and will be condemned to spend the rest of your life clerking for Judge Judy.

2. Stress yourself out as much as you possibly can. There is a reason that the inscription over the door to UW Law School reads "Abandon All Hope, Ye Who Enter This Place."

3. Beware the Socratic method. At some point in the semester (probably the first day), the professor will ask you a mind-bogglingly difficult legal question that even Chief Justice Rehnquist couldn't answer. After you get it wrong, which of course you will, the entire class will laugh at your utter incompetence and throw spitballs at you. The professor will call you names and ridicule you mercilessly. But don't worry - your torment will soon stop. Fortunately, the school is equipped with a trap door underneath every classroom seat which will open and you will fall into sweet, sweet oblivion and you'll wake up several days later in a bathtub full of ice and missing your kidneys.

4. Law school is exactly like high school. Make a bet with your friends to lose your virginity by prom. Try not to have sex with any baked goods, as this will come back to haunt you on the "Character and Fitness" portion of the Bar.

5. Sleep with your professors. Since the grading is anonymous it may not help you get that A, but hey - it couldn't hurt either.

6. Tell everyone your LSAT score. In fact, post flyers around the atrium with it. People will be very impressed and you will make friends quickly. Actually, flyers may not be very effective. Use spray paint.

7. Take up smoking. If you're already a smoker, take up heroin. If you're already addicted to heroin, just freebase the UCC.

8. Finally, make sure that you say good-bye to your old friends and family. You're not going to see them or speak to them for the next year. In fact, you're not going to see anything outside the library for the next year. Law school is a terrible experience and if you have any sort of social life, you will fail out. If you manage to have a social life and still pass your exams, you will still be expelled on principle.There's more where that came from.

and the hits just keep on coming

We might kiss when we are alone
When nobody's watching
We might take it home
We might make out when nobody's there
It's not that we're scared
It's just that it's delicate

So why do you fill my sorrow
With the words you've borrowed
From the only place you've know
And why do you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why do you sing with me at all?

We might live like never before
When there's nothing to give
Well how can we ask for more
We might make love in some sacred place
The look on your face is delicate

So why do you fill my sorrow
With the words you've borrowed
From the only place you've know
And why do you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why do you sing with me at all?
So why do you fill my sorrow
With the words you've borrowed
From the only place you've know
And why do you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why do you sing with me at all?

delicate-damien rice

another song, another part of the story.

i'll miss you old man.

thirty year old minds and twenty three year old emotions

in the battle between those two, who do you think will win?

no brainer.

cause twenty three year old emotions, they're all about taking risks. they fall and fall and fall like they've never fallen before. they get the hearts they come from broken, but they get right back up and they pretend they're not still bruised.

they're all over the place. they feel the distrust, they hope for the best, they do stupid things. they listen to their mind only when it's saying what they want to hear.

thirty year old minds? they love the safety and security and maturity that thirty years of disciplined routine brings. they take a long time to trust, just in time for that trust to be ruined, and they refuse to compromise. they have fun and worry about it. they analyze and rationalize and try to find things that aren't there.

they do what's right for the long run, they say goodbye before they hate, they walk away and don't look back. they hear their emotions and they tell them to keep quiet.

still wondering who'll win?

now, today, as i read your farewell, and i cry yet again, i concede this victory.

your thirty year old mind is doing it the right way. calling it quits before it gets too complicated, saying goodbye before we end up hating each other. you'll pick up where you left off in your otherwise comfortably centered life. your mind should be congratulated.

reason trumps passion for you. as well it should.

so, farewell, and in the days to come know that i have kind thoughts for you. i will wish you well.


as for my twenty three year old emotions, well...

i've been down a road like this before. it's lonely and quiet and punctuated by a few tears falling prompted by a particularly sad memory. it hears the saddest songs ever and recognizes the bits and pieces of the story being told as the exact same thing. but only bits and pieces cause not even a thousand songs can tell your story.

it's a road filled with wishes that things had never happened cause things that never happen never make you cry. but it's a road filled with more wishes that what happened could've worked out. it's a road filled with wishes that apologies worked wonders and told thirty year old minds to compromise.

it's a road that the last time i took i stumbled. but now it's a road that i will take knowing the way, knowing where it could lead. and it's a road i will take with tears in my eyes blurring my path.

i wish, i really wish, that you thought the same way i do.

that minds and emotions, they're really most of the time in the same place. your emotions tell you to jump, but your mind tells to you look first. sometimes the pull of just jumping is stronger than the pull to just keep on looking. and vice versa.

but both minds and emotions know that there's a jump to be made.

i jumped, and i made the worst mistake that our thing and our mutual lack-not absence-of trust could handle. and the price for that is this goodbye. after the trouble we went through, the insanity of those days, the unwillingness to admit it wasn't nothing.

that day, that lunch, when this started, and you held my hand, my mind and my emotions were at war. they knew there was a jump ahead. and my mind gave me a glimpse of today:

me, in front of this computer, writing these words. pain-full words.

on the road when you dropped me off at ortigas, did you feel the hesitation, did you hear the ever escalating shouts of my mind?

til dinner came they were at war still.

and then i saw you and yet again, in the way that i have always let them win, emotions took the lead. because that glimpse that my mind gave me? of sadness, of tears, of painful words that had to be written so they wouldn't stay and bleed?

nothing compared to what my emotions showed me.

days of crazy crazy crazy beautiful things, of discovering new things about an old friendship, of evil and naughty and sweet laughter,of kisses i could never get enough of, of kisses that stayed in my mind, of fear of not being nothing, of being beside you those nights, on the road and eating food i rarely finished, of waking up in the morning to the idea of the night to come being far far better than the last, of eeirily good conversation between minds seemingly too different.

in the days to come i will wish that your mind thought the same way i did, that you would think the risk of hating can be overcome. but then i will disregard that wish for your mind to be any different. after all, your mind is the reason i jumped. and, if i'm lucky enough, maybe your mind will ask me to jump again. but i hold out not much hope. luckily my mind is not that masochistic.

but i find that i do not wish my mind was any different, being such a weak ass wuss compared to my emotions. cause if i'd listened to it, if i'd stayed on the safe side even just once, i wouldn't have felt what i felt. i wouldn't have had those days with you.

fantastic, exciting, crazy beautiful days.

days that happened cause luckily for me, your thirty year old emotions were in sync with my twenty three year old emotions in disregarding your thirty year old mind and my twenty three year old mind.

twirling the flaming baton

rounding the corner while leading the parade, seeing its conclusion undoubtedly filled with sadness and loneliness, there is nothing i can take refuge in as i sit in front of this machine that has seen me produce happy words and sad words.

and now, crashing after this fall, i remember you and the past weeks and the happiness and the laughing trips and the hand that held mine and the quiet sleepy drives home and the calls from nowhere and the unbelievable mind altering fun and i know, in the way that i know that i sure as hell fucked it up, i will miss it terribly.

and for what? a decision i made forgetting our agreement, a judgment call i heeded forgetting that i should've trusted you. a judgment call i hid from you, that every day since i made it i wanted to tell you. but in the grand tradition that is me and my fuck-ups,

i was afraid. to tell you and see you deflate, to hear the words that would be spoken about me that you would've had to defend,to admit to my fear.

and now i pay for it with a thousand words unsaid, days that would've blown our minds out and re-filled it with evil crazy things, the second guessing, the sound of my heart breaking.

i know i promised my heart wasn't yours to break, but it wasn't my promise to make and keep. i have a stupid heart, one that takes a friend and the unexpected happiness and embraces it.

i'd love to blame you, with your panic inducing words and your silent distrust that morning and your refusal to see that i had something to pay for too. but i can't. i was afraid, and i opened my mouth, and i kept it from you, and no amount of apology or effort will change your mind. it's that simple

though i have fallen victim to my fear before, and i thought i was strong enough never to again. but when you have nothing to hold on to, no concrete thing except the idea that this comes with an expiration date, and even so you will be subjected to the pain that words can cause that you try to hide, there's that moment of clarity, one that tells you you will pay, but this is the best decision to make for this moment, for this insanity.

and so i made that decision, with nothing in mind but the thought of a friendship i could ruin, a person i didn't want to hurt more than i already did, an unwillingness to face the known unknown with a person who seemed so supremely self confident it scared me. i made that decision, knowing the moment i saw you that evening, relieved and happy and satisfied, knowing the moment my attempts to gather enough courage to own up to it, knowing that days were passing by and what i needed to tell you remained unsaid, that i would pay.

i'd love to blame you, making me panic like that. but more than that i'd love to be able to say that i won't miss you, that i won't wish i could take it all back, that i won't wish i'd gotten the courage in that earlier minute of inquiry, that i won't hope that you'll change your mind. but i can't say that.

i will miss those crazy days. i will miss the conversation and the drives home. i will miss you.

again in my mind there are songs that play over and over, a sad soundtrack to the sad movie that is you and me.

to think that only yesterday
i was cheerful bright and gay
looking forward to
well who wouldn't do
the role i was about to play
but as if to knock me down
reality came around
and without so much
as a mere touch
cut me into little pieces
leaving me to doubt,
talk about
god and his mercy
for if he really does exist,
why does he desert me
in my hour of need
i truly am indeed,

alone again, naturally.


and to really rub salt into an already raw wound...


Thought you had
all the answers
to rest your heart upon.
But something happens,
don't see it coming, now
you can't stop yourself.
Now you're out there swimming...
In the deep.

Life keeps tumbling your heart in circles
till you... Let go.
Till you shed your pride, and you climb to heaven,
and you throw yourself off.
Now you're out there spinning...
In the deep.

this decision, and the payment it will exact, has led me to believe that truly,

in this parade of the stupid and dumb, in this contest for the monumentally idiotic, in this tragic comedic error filled play,

the flaming baton is truly mine to twirl.

borrowing lines

Do you lie awake
In the morning
Trying to find
A reason to call me
'Cause honey
All that I've been doing
Is thinking about your smile

But none of this is necessary
With me baby
You see baby
'Cause I like to

Keep it all simple

'Cause you are my
Satellite
So I'm trying to
Keep you in sight
But with all this space
Can we keep it alive
Keep it alive
So I'm asking you baby
Are you coming down tonight

There's something
In the air tonight
That feels right
But you're keeping me
Guessing and I'm
Finding it hard to
Catch your eye

So move a little closer
It's all right I know
What you're thinking
You've been circling me
For a while

natalie imbruglia-satellite

those lazy hazy crazy days of summer

i saw this draft, and i wanted to post it. it's not in the proper order of the posts here, this should've been posted monday, but somehow, seeing as i never really do things in order, okay lang naman siguro no?

monday, at the lounge, waiting for you to pick me up.

someone i know has been in panic mode about being recklessly crazy the past few weeks, going crazy and driving me crazy with worries about friendships and inevitable ends to playdates. and while for the past few days i have to admit i've gotten caught up in the worrying, even mixing the three un-mix-ables of alcohol, pms and ms, and painkillers and going majorly out of whack, now, it's even keel baby.

well, as even keel as i can manage, given later and what i plan to say to you.

you have not been remiss in reminding me and emphasizing that this, whatever this is, is just exactly what it is. what we agreed on. but i'm finding it harder and harder to deny that for me this is more than that, this is our friendship taken to a different and insane level and i'm feeling more and more for you than i agreed i would.

which is why when you pick me up later and you look at me again and i look at you again and i feel that insane urge to be reckless again i will subdue that urge and say goodbye to this insanity and to you.

these past few days i have been plagued with guilt about a decision i made and a conversation i had with someone dear to us and i know that i probably don't have the courage to admit it to you, even though i've been trying to find a way to tell you.

i was going to last thursday, but then i saw you looking happy and relieved and satisfied and i just didn't have the heart to burst your bubble. and i didn't think that i could look into your eyes and watch me prove you right in your distrust.

and all friday and saturday i tried to drink away the feeling that i fucked it up. and i tried even more to drink away the realization that i couldn't drink that feeling away. there's nothing like knowing you messed up a good thing to make you want to down as many beers as you can in the hopes of waking up a year after and finding it all doesn't matter.

i've been ap0logizing all week for keeping you up and away from work and all the other things. i never knew i'd be doing something that really requires an apology. and i am, cause apparently, the conversation i had was unnecessary. and the sinking feeling i got when i found out and i realized you would know and you wouldn't forgive me?

that's why goodbye.

cause i, brave person that i am to have lived past almost dying and crazy bitches and cheating assholes and cruel gossip, i will not be able to handle saying sorry and not being forgiven.

i will look back at you and me and tonight, and what will happen tonight, and i will wish that for once i had meant it when i said i wouldn't think it was anything more than we agreed. cause then i would have just thought of myself and let you have that conversation and risk the friendship of seven years. but in my ever lasting stupidity, i didn't trust you. like i know you don't trust me.

and when my heart looks back and breaks again and again and the memory of you and those summer days resurfaces, the way you looked that thursday night, all happy and relieved and light.

thursday night will be on my mind.

no revisiting

the funny thing about me?

i can love you like really do, or at the very least realy want to be with you. and til the day that we call it quits i will exert more than the effort needed to make it work. but when it's done, it's done.

no revisiting pasts, no trying to get what we had back, no nothing.

cause i will try to hold on, look for ways to make it work, while we still are. but if it has to end, i'll let it end. i will wallow, then move on. no question the feelings i had for you will be an oft passed upon memory. but a memory it will remain.

because there's gonna be no seconds.

not even for you, you mind fucker you.

so when you call in the middle of the night and you tell me things i would've wanted to hear round two summers ago and you tell me stories about the life you've been having since then, i have to ask,

what in the name of all that is good are you thinking?

is this some new form of messing with my mind that you're attempting? cause since then in addition to my more recent concerns you have been hovering like a bad choice in the back of my mind. and while yes i am tempted, cause god knows that summer and the months that followed were the most memorable ever, all that's happening right now is i'll have to say no.

cause if yes, and the urge is overwhelming, i might not ever find a point of return.




(thank god you don't read this shit)

for the summer of 2004

like the dance our eyes engage in
like the smoky wispy spirit of
what could be

like that your eyes ignite
a flame of awareness tingly spine
chilly and all

like when we're dancing
right, under blinking
neverendingblinking
lights, under swirling ball

you hold my hand

like you never want
to share me with anyone
else ever again

like a fleetingly cold morning
on a march day in manila, i remember
him who waits for me,
like waits for me to tell him
when i want him

only i won't.
cause our song

like the crumbliest song ever,
but so right for us and the
moment
isn't over yet.

like maybe it never will be.

pressure

like pressure, you know?
what it is, is

like bass
heavy reverberating
in already cramped
headspace

bam bam bam

like you know?

what it is is
like looking gazing peering into
sad dark ringed eyes
and knowing what it is, is

like
the premonition epiphany eureka moment that
HA!

you'll lose.
or you lose.

whatever.

daniel powter's bad day...mine too

Where is the moment we needed the most
You kick up the leaves and the magic is lost
They tell me your blue skies fade to gray
They tell me your passion's gone away
And I don't need no carryin' on

You stand in the line just to hit a new low
You're faking a smile with the coffee you go
You tell me your life's been way off line
You're falling to pieces every time
And I don't need no carryin' on

Because you had a bad day
You're taking one down
You sing a sad song just to turn it around
You say you don't know
You tell me don't lie
You work at a smile and you go for a ride
You had a bad day
The camera don't lie
You're coming back down and you really don't mind
You had a bad day
You had a bad day

Will you need a blue sky holiday?
The point is they laugh at what you say
And I don't need no carryin' on

You had a bad day
You're taking one down
You sing a sad song just to turn it around
You say you don't know
You tell me don't lie
You work at a smile and you go for a ride
You had a bad day
The camera don't lie
You're coming back down and you really don't mind
You had a bad day

(Oooh.. a holiday..)

Sometimes the system goes on the bling
And the whole thing turns out wrong
You might not make it back and you know
That you could be well oh that strong
And I'm not wrong

So where is the passion when you need it the most
Oh you and I
You kick up the leaves and the magic is lost

Cause you had a bad day
You're taking one down
You sing a sad song just to turn it around
You say you don't know
You tell me don't lie
You work at a smile and you go for a ride
You had a bad day
You've seen what you like
And how does it feel for one more time
You had a bad day
You had a bad day

the shit has hit the fan

and the shower corresponding will undoubtedly stink me up. and even more for you cause really the shit you get will be because of me.

you wonder why i'm angry and i'm being all not-miss-ray-of-sunshine and you turn your face
away
from me in response.


guilt baby.

it's the best thing since whipped cream on top of blueberry waffles
on rainy days.
it' s natural sugar high
like the one that keeps you
awake with your thoughts.

and when the shit does hit the fan and you hear the shit as it
zooooooooooooms
toward you

know
that i will feel every word said, and i will cry
(quietly without you ever seeing.)
because the

guilt

baby is gonna be pricking me
never-endingly
cause i know this is
the price you pay.

fighting words for paranoid bitches

squint your eyes and look closer
i'm not between you and your ambition
i am a poster girl with no poster

i am thirty-two flavors
and then some

and i'm beyond your peripheral vision
so you might want to turn your head
cause someday you're going to get hungry
and eat most of the words you just said

both my parents taught me about good will
and i have done well by their names
just the kindness i've lavished on strangers
is more than i can explain

still there's manywho've turned out their porch lights
just so i would think they were not home
and hid in the dark of their windows
til i'd passed and left them alone

and god help you if you are an ugly girl
course too pretty is also your doom
cause everyone harbors a secret hatred
for the prettiest girl in the room

and god help you if you are a phoenix
and you dare to rise up from the ash
a thousand eyes will smolder with jealousy
while you are just flying back

i'm not trying to give my life meaning
by demeaning you
and i would like to state for the record
i did everything that i could do

i'm not saying that i'm a saint
i just don't want to live that way no,
i will never be a saint
but i will always say

squint your eyes and look closer
i'm not between you and your ambition
i am a poster girl with no poster
i am thirty-two flavors and then some

and i'm beyond your peripheral vision
so you might want to turn your head
cause someday you might find you're starving
and eating all of the words you said

ani di franco. again.

so there i was all cranky and well past the pms stage, barely conscious barely coherent barely human except for the bitch in me that seems to stay awake past dreaming.

when you catch me at that window of time between bed happiness and breakfast-or whatever meal it is i wake up to- chances are you get me conscious but war freak-ish.

not just me actually, it's a trait i share with the four other estrogen laden members of my flip family. we have different snooze hours but the waking up window is eerily identical.

anyway i digress.

considering that the insanity of the past days has been a departure from the life i had a few weeks past i was looking forward to the easing back, truly, the starting at the middle that i, low EQ person that i am, failed to do. then i was rudely reawakened to a certain reality that i was trying to prepare for but now it seems is barreling my way full speed.

and the words i heard sparked a temper simmer that i nursed the entire day, letting it rest to accomodate then surfacing at the most inopportune of times. and my mouth, freakazoid marathon runner that it is in comparison to my sluggish body, produced words i regretted as soon as my brain reconnected with the rest of me. and those words, those fighting words, i now acknowledge as a product of my cowardly, paranoid self.

i have for the most part exercised discretion, i have had a lot of fun that i deny-and will continue to deny-having, in the interest of preserving whatever privacy is left to me when i have fun. for too long the scrutiny, the uninformed criticism, the self-serving hypocritical interventions. for too long i held on to the words i wanted to let loose. and i felt that discretion would save me from a war i didn't want to fight but a war i wouldn't hide from nonetheless.

but that discretion was taking its toll. because who doesn't want to smile and be happy? the happiness however temporary is happiness all the same, and in my world the spectacular serendipitous congruence of time manner and place, of friend, summer in manila, and now, is cause for happiness.

and the toll it exacted, that evil sonovabitch discretion did, was exhaustion and a tendency to find meaning in words that may or may not have been offensive had i been fully conscious, but more often than not in my efforts to be more mature i would let pass. but no. now is defensive mode.

and why shouldn't it be? arguably i have had the best of times and the worst of times in the last five years. i've fallen in and out of relationships that have caused pain and damage to my reputation and considerable damage to my health. there are things i regret more than others, things i cherish more than others, but for the most part i have taken responsibility for my actions, and even for the actions of others.

i've paid, in many many more ways than one, for my at times monumental phenomenal unparalleled stupidity.
and still the criticism, and from people who know dick.

i weather that too, and hold my tongue for the most part, but sometimes, it's too much. and now that there seems to be in the offing another barrage of character discussions, i feel sad and angry that i have to think of this again.

hence, ani di franco. the perfect fighting words for when you can't fight.