I know that I should be working right now but I just need to purge this out of my system before 1. I go insane. and 2. It's something I feel is worth sharing.
After almost a month of fasting from _______ (and yes, almost a month because I started fasting two weeks earlier than everyone as I felt it was absolutely necessary to do it immediately), I fell from grace just a few hours ago.
I plummeted deeper and deeper into ignorant bliss, basking in the pleasure of getting what I wanted and savored the thrill of the fall.
And when you fall, you're bound to hit the bottom at some point.
And so I did. And it hurt.
And I have no one to blame but myself.
But I've learned from the past that it's alright to fall once in a while. We're not perfect. We're only human after all.
AND THIS IS WHERE THE PROBLEM COMES IN.
"We're only human after all."
Though this saying holds some semblance of truth, I believe that it's not enough of an excuse to make as many mistakes as you can. I'm pretty sure you can say the same.
We ARE human. Because we are human, we have the capacity to think and act beyond what is expected of ourselves. Your growth is the perfect sign of your humanity. You outgrow your old self in order to be renewed time and time again for yourself and for others.
Because we are human, we are born to be more than the mistakes we make. We are born to succeed.
Believe that you are more than the times you've fallen. Believe that you can pick yourself up and walk back towards the path of healing and deliverance.
And believe me when I say that I'm here to walk with you. :)
Have a good week ahead. :)
P.S. I hope I made sense. Please let me know if everything I said was sheer nonsense and I will gladly scrap this entry out and just talk about how my last weeks as Junior is going. Okay, I'm totally rambling. Hahaha!
I've been itching to write a Valentine's Day entry (despite the fact that it's over) but I couldn't decide on what to write about (and I've been going out a lot, too). I thought of writing about my first break-up and how I practically resurrected from it, or how sunsets lead me to complete emotional healing. Thinking that it would be too long to write ( because as much as possible I try to keep my entries short so as not to bore my readers), I decided against both ideas and allowed inspiration to surprise me at any point of my day.
It only took my name on a jacket to finally get me writing.
It happened on a Wednesday--two days after Valentine's Day.
"Love," my best friend called out to me while I was busying myself with work for my Graphic Design class. "I'll show you something."
I stood up from my work desk and languidly walked to where he was standing. "Yes, Love? What is it?"
I watched him fumble in his bag and pull out a denim jacket he was currently using as part of his costume for Hair (WHICH YOU SHOULD ALL WATCH, BY THE WAY!).
"Do you like it?" He asked, holding it up for me to see.
"Yes, it's nice," I replied with a smile.
"Look."
I watched as he laid out the jacket on a table and folded out the right flap so I could see the inside. Written in black ink was my name.
"Aww, that's very sweet!" I exclaimed. "Why is my name there, though?"
His answer almost moved me to tears.
"So it's like you're with me every time I'm performing."
:)
~*~
It's good to know that single or not single, I still have someone out there to make me feel loved and special. That in any day, season, or occasion, I have someone who cares about me and will always be there for me.
And it's amazing to know that I'm not alone. :)
To you, dear reader, I'm sure you have someone (a friend, sibling, boyfriend or whatever) who needs your tiny gestures of love. A simple yet powerful gesture of love.
Write a short message on a post-it and stick it on the windshield of your friend's car. Discreetly slip a bar of his favorite chocolate in his backpack before his most boring class so he has something to munch on to help him stay awake. Borrow your friend's phone and secretly type in a sweet memo in the calendar and alarm it at an unexpected time.
Don't wait for Valentine's Day to come around again. Make them feel that they're not alone. Make them feel that any day can be Valentine's Day. :)
I pray you move mountains with a single kiss. :)
~*~
I just want to thank those who continuously read my blog, especially to the ones who refer my blog to those who need emotional healing. I'm so touched to know that this actually happens. :) And I'm glad that my rambles can actually help somebody. My page views overwhelm me every time I take a look at my blog stats. A big thank you.
Thank you for your little gesture of love. :)
I am a stubborn woman.
No matter how many times I am given the same advice, or how much I am warned about the consequences of my actions, I don't listen.
Let me stress my stubbornness a bit more. Even if I've been in the same situation before and know the ending of the whole story I've written myself in, I'd still refuse to turn away.
And I actually don't understand why. Well, there's the whole possibility of me being masochistic, but I think everyone has a tendency to want to hurt themselves once in a while—one way or another. So, I'm back to square 1. I still don't know the reason why.
But that's not really the point. I'll get to it, though. I promise.
So what does a stubborn woman get for throwing all caution to the wind? Pain. Grief. Sadness. Self‐pity. Aggravation.
But getting hurt a second—or even third— time around builds up your very core. Like gold that is tested in fire, you welcome the pain in order to burn away all weakness so nothing else remains but strength, radiance, and power.
So it does pay to be stubborn sometimes. You fall. Nurse your wounds. Pick yourself up. Stand up tall. Then continue moving forward.
Stronger than ever.
So never be afraid of getting hurt. Take risks. Allow yourself to grow. To fight. And keep moving forward. :)
Hands down, Taylor. You read my heart. :)
~*~
Long were the nights
When the days once revolved around you
Counting my footsteps,
Prayin’ the floor won’t fall through, again
My mother accused me of losing my mind
But I swore I was fine
You paint me a blue sky and go back
And turn it to rain
And I lived in your chess game
But you changed the rules every day
Wonderin which version of you
I might get on the phone, tonight,
Well I stopped pickin’ up
And this song is to let you know why
Dear John,
I see it all now that you’re gone.
Don’t you think I was too young
To be messed with
The girl in the dress
Cried the whole way home
I shoulda known.
Well maybe it’s me
And my blind optimism to blame
Maybe its you and your sick need
To give love then take it away
And you’ll add my name
To your long list of traitors
Who don’t understand
And I’ll look back in regret
How I ignored when they said
Run as fast as you can
Dear John,
I see all it now that you’re gone
Don’t you think I was too young
To be messed with
The girl in the dress
Cried the whole way home
Dear John,
I see it all now it was wrong
Don’t you think nineteen’s too young
To be played by your dark twisted games
When I loved you so
I shoulda known
You are an expert at sorry
And keeping lines blurry
And never impressed by me
Acing your tests
All the girls that you run dry
Have tired lifeless eyes
Cuz you burned them out
But I took your matches
Before fire could catch me
So don’t look now
I’m shining like fireworks
Over your sad empty town
Oh woah oh
Dear John,
I see all it now that you’re gone
Don’t you think I was too young
To be messed with the girl in the dress
Cried the whole way home
I see all it now that you’re gone
Don’t you think I was too young
To be messed with
The girl in the dress
Wrote you a song
You should’ve known
You shoulda known
Don’t you think I was too young
You shoulda known.
It's been almost three months since I've written here. I've just been so busy catching up with my school work. But since I'm officially on my sembreak, I can now freely write what's been up with me since...well, my last entry.
~*~
For three months, I was physically and emotionally battered. I was so spiritually dry because I took a leave of absence from going to prayer meetings every Saturday. I couldn't spend quality time with my family anymore. My grades dropped dramatically and I only had around 3-4 hours of sleep every single day. Even on weekends.
All because of the Freakshow.
~*~
I never imagined myself being in BlueRep. I never dreamed of acting and singing in front of an audience. And DANCING. Oh, God. The dancing was the biggest reason why I didn't want to join BlueRep. Those who know me know that the reason why I sing is because I don't dance. It's not that I'm bad at it (chos, HAHA.), it's just that I don't want.
But there was one beautiful soul who saw something in me-- something even I couldn't see. It was that kind of something that would change my life.
So I decided to audition for BlueRep and to my surprise, I was accepted. I was actually already content with that but that same person who pushed me to try getting in BlueRep, wanted me to audition for the newbie played called, "Freakshow."
Because he's my best friend and I trusted the fact that he knew what he was getting me into, I reluctantly sang, danced, and acted in front of the more seasoned people of org. I felt so embarrassed. I didn't like my audition. I didn't sing very well, I forgot some teeny parts from the dance, and I never really encountered the words, "cold reading," before so I guess you can assume what happened there.
It was to my surprise that I got accepted into the cast and even became one of the leads of play. I was to play Violet-- one of the Siamese twins. Violet's the shy and reserved one of the pair. Her dreams of settling down and having a husband was a big contrast to her sister's dream which was to travel and become famous.
I'm more of her sister, Daisy, in real life-- loud, dominant, and vocal. So turning into a Violet was certainly a big challenge for me.
At that point, my life was compartmentalized into two sections: "Freakshow" and "Everything Else."
~*~
There were times when I would call my best friend, crying and telling him that I was so exhausted and that my grades were suffering so bad. My dad started to complain about my late nights in school and I couldn't even spend time with my friends anymore. Since it was my first time to be in a play ever (save for those Filipino and English plays in class), I had a hard time juggling all the stress.
But for some strange reason, I still kept attending rehearsals and was slowly straying away from my comfort zone. I pushed my boundaries as a singer and immersed myself into the character I had to play. I read the script everyday and followed whatever my director told me to do. I kept wanting to go to rehearsals every single day to the point that without it, I felt empty and hungry for it.
The same way a smoker's addicted to his cigarettes.
My castmates were also a big addition to my addiction. I wanted to see them and spend time with each of them because they were all individually wonderful and even more special and powerful when they came together. It's probably the reason why the casting was so apt. Everyone loved everyone despite despite the diversity of personalities. In short, we all accepted each other no matter what.
~*~
During the week of the shows, school was just something for me to go through before it was time to perform. I went through the day, hoping that time would go faster so that I could be with my castmates again. I wanted to go on stage with them. I wanted to escape the student life and become a Freak.
I was so attached to the show. I loved Violet. I loved Daisy. I loved the Freaks. Buddy. Terry. Tod Browning. The Boss. The set. The atmosphere. I loved everything.
~*~
The last show was too emotional for my own good. After the scenes where I cried, I would still be crying backstage while changing into my next outfit. HAHAHA. I had to force myself to stop crying and condition myself for the next scene. It was because I knew that each scene that I was going to perform that afternoon was the last and I wanted to relish every second of it.
The show ended with tears and a strong (and even standing) ovation. Everyone was amazing. Each and every one of those people involved played their parts excellently no matter how big or small. Just like everyone else, I thought of the experience as something unforgettable. Something special that would bond each of us forever.
I really can't say that I regret getting into BlueRep because I don't despite what I went through. What it gave back to me was so much more than I what gave in the first place. I learned more about myself, I got to know more than 50 new people and even gained this new love for theater.
Most importantly, it gave me the assurance that I was going in the right direction in terms what I want to be. It has always been my dream to get into a career that I truly and deeply love. As in, I'd wake up every morning not dreading to go to work but look forward to it instead and be thankful for it. I'd always be jumping into one project after next and feel that unexplainable rush when I do it.
I know I'm meant to perform. I just know it.
~*~
SPECIAL THANKS TO:
To my family, thank you for supporting me in everything I do. Thank you for picking me up late at night, for tolerating my absence during family dinners, for trying to understand my mood swings, and for just being there all the time. Thank you for the bouquet of flowers. :)
To my friends and relatives who went to watch the show, thank you so much for coming to celebrate the beauty of the production. I know that you all would have gone somewhere else but you chose to sit through the whole 2 hours and 30 minutes of the show. I would mention all of your names but then my post would be longer as it already is.
To my barkada, I love you all for going to watch me. You don't know how much it means to have you come to watch my show. Thank you for supporting me and going all the way to Ateneo. You're the best set of friends a girl could have. Special thanks to Rav for my bouquet of roses.
To my bestfriend, Bibo, thank you for changing my life. Thank you for pushing me to join and for supporting me throughout the whole thing. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have known the beauty of theater, the freaks whom I love so dearly, and my ability to do more than just singing. Thanks for tolerating my mood swings, my random weepy phone calls, my incessant bickering about boys, and my insanity. Thank you and I love you. :)
To XOXO, I know I haven't seen you all in so long but you guys watching the show gave me the chance to see you all again even for a moment. It means so much that you all came together to watch me do what I love doing. I love you all very, very, much. I'll be going back to prayer meeting soon so I better see you there! :)
To my fellow freaks, you don't know how much I love each of you. Experiencing each moment of the Freakshow with all of you is something I'll keep in my heart forever. I'm glad I got to know all of you and performed on stage with you. I really can't imagine a different set of cast members. You all belonged on that tiny yet intimate stage.
To the production team of Freakshow, thank you for the effort and late nights that you spent for the Freakshow. I can tell how difficult it is to be in your position and I want to commend you all for all for doing such a great job.
To Cassie, Joanne, and Toff, you guys are just amazing. I really don't know what else to say. You put so much effort in this for the love of theater and you inspire to do my best for the same purpose. I love you three so much. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
To my God, the one who gave me the Freakshow, thank You for giving me this chance to learn more about myself and to see a different side of your majesty. Thank You for the giving the strength and patience to work through the whole production. I know I haven't spent as much time with you as I should but I promise You, babawi ako. :) Love You, Dad.
"Strike tents, pull the stakes up. Go gents, let the brakes up. No fence, stops us from moving on to our next show. Farewell."
I have a tiny problem.
You see, it's a problem that I've been trying to put off dealing with since...well, since months ago.
I have a problem with cleaning out my closet.
In my closet, there's a shelf where I keep a bag brimming with random things that remind me of certain memories.
A card I sent to my dad for his birthday when he was in Europe in 1997. My Southridge prom invitation. My Starbucks planner filled with pictures, notes, and other things that my ex boyfriend and I did together. Palanca letters from high school retreats. Stampitas from my First Communion.
The list goes on and on...and on.
A question suddenly comes to mind.
How do you get rid of these things?
Do you just throw it in the trash? Do you burn it? Do you bury in the earth?
I feel like I'm violating an unsaid rule-- as if I'm discarding pieces of my life.
Don't get me wrong. I don't think it's trash at all. I just don't know where to put it all. And I keep thinking, what if I'm already 40? Would I be still doing the same thing? Keeping memories like this? How big of a closet do I need?
I know I can't keep these things forever. I'll be moving out of the house, traveling...just really too busy to even remember that I had a closet filled with my past.
So tell me, has this ever crossed your mind?
(I wish my brain worked like a hard drive)
One Thursday, while I was watching a play called The Vagina Monologues, I received a phone call that didn't make me happy at all.
Since the play was finished anyway after that call, I went to stay with a group of people I knew. I had to wait a while since I was riding back to Makati with my teacher (who was part of the play) .
"Hello, everyone!" I greeted and sat on one of the chairs available there.
I didn't realize that I had such a sad (more of frustrated) disposition plastered on my face until a friend pointed it out to me.
"What's wrong?" He asked.
My gaze drifted towards him, my mind still hung up on the phone conversation I had. "Hmm? What do you mean?"
"Your eyes."
I was caught off guard. "What do you mean?"
"You're not okay."
"How can you tell?" I replied in bewilderment.
"Your eyes kind of..." and then he made a gesture by pulling down the outer corner of his eyes. "Are you okay?"
For some reason, a feeling of relief washes over me. I tell him what happened and he replies with kind words and an assuring hug.
And what have I learned from this?
Vulnerability is not a bad thing sometimes. It's good for you and for the person you show your vulnerability to.
As you present yourself in your brokenness, you open yourself to healing.
And at the same moment, you are giving the person seeing you in that state an opportunity to show compassion.
And there is this beautiful exchange of love.
You are healed while that person grows in compassion.
I know a number of people who prefer masking their weaknesses. I'm not saying that it's bad, but it's not good either. It's even proven scientifically that bottling up your emotions can cause some dreadful physical manifestations.
Give yourself a break and remove that mask from your face. Allow love to heal you through a comforting embrace, a friend's treat to ice cream to melt the sadness away, or even just a listening ear.
If you're feeling down right now, know that at this moment I ask you to open yourself to my embrace. :) I love you. :)
I am not new to broken promises.
But there are just some promises I cling to so bad that when broken, they hurt me so bad. And they aggravate me...disappoint me.
I feel betrayed and lied to.
It's those promises that require sacrifice on my end, especially.
Also, it's those promises that somewhat go,
"I need to start fixing my finances and myself for my future kasi so blah blah blah...."
~ And you see them burn their money on drinking and going out to "unwind" while they continuously think about their debts and being broke.
"Someday, you'll be great. Just keep working hard and do your best for the company."
~ And you discover that the boss you looked up to was previously charged with Estafa thrice, is in debt, and just used you as a pawn to steal more money from the company-- making you work from 11am-11pm for nothing.
It's those promises that play with my hope that things will be better after sacrificing, but comes out as a promise that's empty. A lie.
I'm not even going to try saying anything profound about this. Not like my usual, "There's an upside to this pain..." Nope. I'm just here to release my frustration on broken promises. Those promises broken by people I trusted so much.
I'm very disappointed with you. I thought you'd be a better person after everything but so far, you seem to be fucking up your finances up pretty well. You can say any excuse you want, but really, who's suffering? You're the one with the empty bank account after a night of drinking, "having fun", and masking your guilt.
If only you could prove me right. That you're actually someone respectable and true. How I wish that were possible. But let's face it, you never really listened to me anyway.
I make a point to visit my great Physician at the chapel in school right before all my classes start. I let Him check my heart on a daily basis. Missing a trip to the Doctor is not an option. I sense the drawbacks of not going to Him as the long day progresses. Not good for me to skip.
If you read my blog, you would know that I don't wake up to very nice mornings. It's been well over a month and my palpitations haven't stopped yet. I can't say I'm not doing better, though. I'm actually doing very well despite my mornings. My palpitations aren't as bad anymore. There's the occasional heartburn but I'm making very good progress.
It's all because I confide in my great Doctor. Every morning, I pull the large wooden door of the chapel open and take my usual seat at the back. I take a deep a deep breath, make the sign of the cross, and mentally tap God and say, "Hey, good morning! I'm here again for my check-up."
Then I proceed telling Him my feelings and thoughts:
"My morning is pretty crappy. Why does it have to be like this? My heart beat faster than a helicopter's wings this morning."
"I'm so sleepy today! My heart feels better, though."
"I feel horrible today. It's so heavy I can't stand it. When's this gonna end? You know what I think? That...."
"I know you're healing me right now. Change my bandages, please?"
"Today feels like a good day! Can't it be like this everyday?"
And that's my daily routine. A good 15-20 minutes in there makes all the difference in my day.
And after I expel all fury, anxiety, and depression in my body, I end by saying my thanks, do the sign of the cross, sling my bag on my shoulder, and leave.
But before I push the door open, I turn around to face the cross and say,
"When I get out of this door, all the bad things will stay here and I will not think about them the entire day. I choose happiness today."
And the Lord takes my burdens away without question and I leave the chapel like I've woken up the second time. This time, light and positive. Without the heart problems.
~ What am I trying to say? Surrender. Surrender your burdens wholeheartedly and allow happiness to embrace you. :)
~*~
I ate at Yaki Mix today with my family to celebrate my parents' 19th anniversary. Because I ate so much, I looked preggers after how many plates of Japanese everything. I hope I don't die of bangungot tonight or something. :))
What caught my eye at the restaurant was the manager who paced around the entire restaurant, making sure that all the customer's were happy. He was doing the same tasks the waiters were doing --- happily taking away dirty plates, lighting the stoves, and refilling glasses of iced tea.
The only difference between him and the waiters was that he was wearing long sleeves, a tie, and black slacks while the waiters wore their brown uniforms.
And I admired him that. We need more leaders like that-- who work with their subordinates rather than make them do the work, who exemplify humility and become good role models.
I wish I had affirmed him then. I was too preoccupied watching my sister finish cooking the fresh shrimps on the hotplate. :))
~*~
I just want to plug that my littlest sister is growing cuter and more beautiful each day. Her smile is a painkiller for my heart. She is my miracle and blessing. I love her so much. :)
I never thought I could dread Saturdays so much.
I dread Saturdays more than Mondays and Thursdays.
I used to love Saturdays. Saturday was my special day. It was the day I would usually look forward to. Everything that was good happened on Saturdays. Saturdays made my heart soar.
That was before.
Now, I just feel like I want that day to fly faster than Hermes with a hundred wings.
How bad is a Saturday, you ask? Saturdays open up that deep wound in my chest.
Over. And over. And over again.
And I start to wonder. Would it be like this for me in future Saturdays? My heart palpitations are bad enough. You wanna add cutting the wound in it open again, too?
I fear the future. I fear what my heart would be like. I fear what I would be like. In weeks? Months? Years?
Because as far as I know, I know nothing about it at all.
But there's a cure to this fear.
LIVE HAPPINESS DAY BY DAY.
A friend told me, "It [the future] shouldn't bother you. Coz you'll find out eventually."
He could never be more true. What's the use of wondering, really? The present is more important. How I'm dealing with myself right now is more important.
The only way to heal and dispel fear is to breathe in happiness each and every day.
Find happiness in a friend's embrace. A nice hot meal. A hearty laugh. A smile. A cool breeze on a hot day. A good conversation.
Happiness is always there if you choose to see it.
Choose to see happiness. Choose to see God. Because our God is a happy God. And he wants nothing more than for you to be happy. For you to wake up whole and not broken. For you to see love. For you to see beautiful sunsets. :)
Right now, I love all my weekdays. Even my Mondays and Thursdays. That's two days down, one to go.
I hope that happiness fills you with every breath you take. :)
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