crowds.

I get invited to these events every damn time, though I don’t always appear enthusiastic nor appreciative. I also make sure to show my face on every occasion. I try to smile, but holding it any longer strains my neck. Of course, beer is always present upon these momentary celebrations, and my right hand never goes empty as they try to refill my cup just to make sure I’m getting enough. Sometimes people would ask me how I got associated with this type of crowd, and my response would be in some sort of shrug or from time to time I might mumble “birds of the same feather,” which does not quite sound right. But I can blend in though, and whoever doubts my social adaptability clearly hasn’t gone to parties such as this one. So I roll my eyes and chug my beer, and pretend to enjoy the loud music as I slowly drift off into oblivion.

I don’t know how to act on funerals.

I don’t know how to act on funerals.

I somehow find myself detached during these awkward situations. I don’t know how to say my condolences, I don’t know if asking for a second cup of coffee during the wake is acceptable, I don’t know if smiling is considered a grave offense… You see what I did there? A freaking pun. Yes, I’m that guy. But I think this all started back when I was about 4 years old and I had a twin sister. HAD. We lost her when we were in that age but at the time I wasn’t even aware about the concept of death and grieving and all that. Everything was some sort of a blur. One thing I remember though, was that I wasn’t allowed to attend the funeral because of some old Filipino superstition that if I go with them, then death would come for me next, or at least something dark and scary story to that effect. It was tragic and sad, and subconsciously that might have affected me a whole lot, but up to this day I still can’t find an explanation as to why.

beer musings.

I want some company, but i want to be alone. Let me rephrase it: I like the sound of people talking – be it about life, heartbreak or the death of their favorite dog, so long as I’m not involved. Only then can I breathe.

personal mysteries.

Sometimes when it gets too silent, and not I’m not talking about a lack of noise but simply a deprivation from clarity and the rhythm of your heartbeat carries you into a disturbing mood all throughout the night. I wasn’t looking for sleep deprivation, heartburn and hangover in general but when you’re in the moment decisions seem distant and so you detach yourself from any moral judgment and you’re aware of regrets because of some recurring thoughts but you say fuck it and come tomorrow if you fuck up some more then at least there’s more cold beer in the fridge, like a shoulder to cry on especially on rainy days. When you no longer have control over your actions and not know about it till the morning after is sort of liberating and wild. Letting your guard down for people to see what kind of a mess the inside of your head is -a glimpse through a galaxy of mysteries manifesting as stars obscured by the clouds, discussing important parts of you and elements that should not be magnified slipping away right before your eyes and you allow it, even for just a moment because it feels so fucking great every once in a while.

secrets between

Find allies in alleys and cheap bars
while drinking even cheaper beers
and lousy whiskey.

An awfully satisfying nod from strangers
Talking about what we missed
And who missed us.
Feelings that got away and
Emotions that stay,
Eating us.
Still.

There’s beauty in pain though,
In levity and these so-called bad luck.
It’s awfully satisfying to surrender.
All those battle you’ve lost but survived.
There’s brevity in forever and
endless sorrow in goodbyes.
With every sunset lies a horizon
darker than the next.

euphoria.

I don’t know how to say this, but sometimes I’m just not interested. Whatever it is, whenever someone tries to talk to me about something, or coax me into participating in a conversation, I get tongue-tied. I just have this urge sometimes to just disappear at any given moment, that way they can never subject me into listening to their woes in my pocketful of carelessness. I don’t know if this introversion is either gradually manifesting or quickly blossoming; an emergence of series of indifference or whatever science or any branch of psychology wants to call it. I don’t want to sound too technical when talking to some people, and I don’t want to risk having to tell it all opinion-wise, but at a certain degree I’m conscious with details and somewhat obsessive. I have commitment issues though. Is it just fear snaking its way throughout my consciousness? That may be the case sometimes because there’s no other substitute or reflex rather than the ability to manipulate things or at least the desire to make it look like things are going my way even though it does not happen all the time, but the relief one feels when successfully accomplishing a task that she doesn’t want to deal with in the first place results to a sort of euphoria, an elation from a previous state of depression and panic

Zzz..

I cannot summon enough will to write. Not these days. I have been over less motivation and glued under the same position of not knowing whether to stand still or move along, to a path where one should discover part of herself. Lately I have been standing over a cliff, its height terrifying me at the same time inviting me to jump off and join the lapping of waves over the thorny rocks.My mind has been caught in a daze over a realization that time cannot be divided into the past and present. What has happened will not come our way again, even if it does its disguise will fool us just like everyday misfortune, and will be discarded as nothing but experience. But still we thrive on getting it perfectly done, when in fact it doesn’t need to be that way. Nothing is ever flawlessly beautiful. I have these self-restrictions and series of judgment that often end up in self-loathing, but could the stars have anything to do with it? Sometimes we rely too much on fate and base our lives by the way other people live theirs, guessing shoe sizes and not taking the time to walk on our own.

Redemption

I didn’t pretty much had the energy nor the interest to write these days. I know, It’s a shame. I don’t even want to admit it, except for those times when I truly feel guilty. Like now, all I ever think about is how much of a slacker I am – for wasting my time going through things I know are of no value to me. My mind has these sort of manifestations through dreams, and recurring thoughts that I could not bring myself to interpret. Perhaps these symbols and metaphors scare me to a point where they get to hiding like a fish swimming swiftly from my feet as I take a dip into a shallow water, keeping away and leaving a trail of dark and murky surface as a take my time, unconscious of everything else while looking up at the sky, squinting my eyes with its blinding welcome.

 

Sometimes all I want is someone who would ask me what I feel, but it gets me to thinking about all the tiresome process of finding that someone, which does not always mean romance or anything sexual, but just somebody I could divulge my exploits with. The tell-all, details about a specific unimportant event, the foolishness one experiences from a lack of preparation ..someone who could fill the gap, dead air, static; the long hours of pain and numbness altogether, unexplainable, raw and unnecessary. Exposing myself could get me into trouble though. Sometimes I want to keep a piece of vigilance in me when I’m drinking, but most of the time it just ends up with me trying to fit the pieces together the next day, which is a bit comical and sort of sad, seeing as how these things often repeat in the same forgetful affair.

 

I could ramble on and on about my social awkwardness and sort of dorky demeanor, and I can try to sound intimidating and hostile but the latter is just plain unattainable. I’d rather sit in silence unnoticed than go with a crowd that seems to be favoring the wrong concept of aesthetics, desperately trying to claw their way inside a world filled with uncommon interests and spiteful overemphasized gossips. When conflicts spring from a lack of perspective and a whole lot of immaturity, admittedly, sometimes anger comes when you happen to be in a place full of spectators, and could not resist the urge to spit some negativity, completely not holding back because we all have encountered that someone who doesn’t seem to have a filter with words. We just want to punch them in the face and call it a night. Again, these are just ramblings, and quite possibly may be just out of my trancelike state (lack of sleep) , but I’d rather not have a beef with someone, not because of fear, but simply because fights don’t interest me. I want to encourage peace, fun, innocence and maturity at the same time – away from mind-pollution which seems to be clouding up our thoughts on what’s okay from don’t-do-that sort of thing. Redemption. Yes, that’s it I guess.