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Voices and Choices

I’m not the person people choose.

When I was still a kid, I would just stand behind the crowd and listen as my relatives throw kudos to my siblings and cousins. They seemed to excel in many things, things that I couldn’t do. Everything felt like a motion blur and made me think that this was all a competition. I wanted what they were given: attention. I tried being recognized in my academics, tried engaging in musical instruments, built my own unique character, but nothing ever worked out. My anxiety and my desire to earn my name grew from that moment. I became obsessed with winning and despised every failure.

I’m not the person people choose.

In middle school, having a group of friends mattered the most. The same group of people you’ll gossip with, eat lunch with, share secrets and answers to your exams with, felt like it was the most valuable gem you’ll ever have. I never had that. I was moving from one group to another. I felt like I was a foster child. I was never part of anything. I was alone in a room full of exuberant people. My self-confidence dropped as I realize that I wasn’t even an option and replacing me could be as quick as a snap.

I’m not the person people choose.

I don’t hold grudges for too long but this memory would probably cling on me forever. Freshman year in college, group works are thrown here and here. My friends who I thought I was tight with, formed a group for a project and didn’t even inform me that I wasn’t included. I found one and they counted me in as they still lack one member. I tried dodging the question, “why aren’t you with your friends?” Good thing I was an excellent liar. But the lie tasted bitter that I almost gag whenever the words come out of my mouth. The heartbreak I felt at the moment still feels fresh. I couldn’t fit anywhere. I never felt more betrayed and I never felt more alone.

I’m not the person people choose.

I never learn how to wait. But I waited seven months for this guy. I wasted seven months only to receive a text message from a girl he just started dating one day. And then came another. The first few months were blissful. Everything felt right like it was all falling into place. But things quickly turn south as fireworks blew up in the sky and people cheered for another fruitful year. Everything changed and everything felt like the same treachery I felt a year ago. It felt like I’m in a loop. Eight months in and I’m still stuck between choosing me and choosing the people who don’t. At this moment I still wonder why they never choose me even though I know deep down the answer for it.

Because I never choose myself.

I always choose people who don’t want anything to do with me. I search for people to make me feel like how I think I’m supposed to feel. I fail and I wallow. I never give myself a chance to acknowledge the people who stayed. I never look at the people who walk beside me on this path. I have to choose me and get rid of the people who don’t. I have to choose me to be able to create more memories with the people who choose me.

blood and peace and war and harmony

geometry

truth

Change

But as the days go by,

and all the leaves fall,

and the wind becomes strong,

and the sun has gone,

I as well won’t be the same anymore.

Long Live

There it is again --the shadows surrounding the lamp post. I couldn't tell where it is exactly but it's somewhere out there, crawling. It's slowly eating me alive as I feel it getting closer. The darkness starts to engulf me, and drowning me to void.

I can see it now: my fears, anxieties, and insecurities affecting my self-esteem have been in my life for god knows how long now. I can't remember when and how it started. It's like I just woke up one day with all these dark, insecure thoughts plunging on me like a hot meal. I couldn't think clearly, I get impulsive, I misunderstand people a lot, and I let go of the things that actually make me happy. For years I've been trying to find a solution. I even went to see a doctor. It worked. Or so I thought.

I resent every compliment that comes my way, I don't even know why. I push away all the good stuff.

Maybe I'm just afraid to feel genuine happiness. Maybe I got so used to the feeling of emptiness and loneliness that I start to cling onto it. Or maybe I just haven't found myself.

But whatever it is, I couldn’t wait for it. I couldn't wait to smile, to breathe, to love, to live.

To live. I couldn't wait to live.

No Endings

I don't even know where to begin.

Should I start from the very beginning? Or just explain the situation I'm in now and then gradually tell what happened before that?

Should I start from the night you invited me over to watch a musical? Or should I jump right in on the first morning you texted me 'good morning'?

Should I start with how I'm becoming uninterested now? Or should I tell first how I told you I like you?

I don't know where to begin because even us didn't have any significant beginning. We're stuck nowhere and pretend we're okay with this kind of set-up. And mind you there are no endings. We'll just be off to different paths. No labels, no goodbyes, no endings. Just us, slowly fading away along with the clouds around us.

Lire le premier mot de chaque paragraphe

Don't ever hate the heat--

Instead, love the breeze in summer trees,

And the fiery sunsets at the sea,

And the ice cream we had that melted in minutes.

Know that the winds are with you,

Guiding in every episode of your blues.

It'll try to make you smile until you do,

And it won't ever leave you, it's true.

If you ever love the rain,

And the way it hits at your window pane

Then it's time to get out of your cage

And love the one who loves you instead

You will never know when a rainbow will appear

And when it does, the fears

And the color in our tears

Will eventually sear

Notice how the waves crash

Some come by in just a rush

And some even leave a gush

Would you still risk and catch?

But when the winter comes

Equipped with their frozen guns

Do not be afraid to jump

For I told the blizzards to warm you up

I could use everything

Related to nature, that is.

But the hope of you getting the idea of all this,

Remains as small as a fling.

Like the birds in the skies

Or the shells in the seas.

What about the insects in the trees?

Or even the dust in the sheets?

You would never notice withered leaves

But would always comment on the heat

You would never notice where the sun and the moon meet

But would always want someone you could never reach.

unparalleled

orange and darkness

plaid

high

Cold showers and questions

I sit naked on the bathroom floor. I forgot to adjust the heat to my shower so the cold water pours on me. But I couldn’t feel the cold, not even a little bit. I focus on the drops of water running through my hair and falling onto the cold tiles of my bathroom floor. I focus on how fast they come and how fast they go, and the sound of pat-pit-pat as they hit the floor. I focus and don’t feel. I was too preoccupied with my own thoughts.

I wonder, as the cold water falls onto my back, why on earth do I feel so sad and alone? Why do I keep feeling this overwhelming sadness? Why do I feel like I’m constantly being left in the dark? Why do they always let go of my hand when I’m ready to jump?

I was at a bar Wednesday midnight. I already had several shots of booze but the dizziness hasn’t embraced me yet. Then someone asked me, “saan ka nagkulang?” I was dumbfounded but I had to give them an answer since we were playing a drinking game and they were already counting down.

“Five... four... three...”

“Hindi naman talaga ako enough ‘e.”

I laughed after those words slipped off my tongue. It was humorous at that time because the truthfulness of my answer hasn’t sunken into me yet. I try to focus on everything inside my bathroom, but my mind keeps finding its way back to that question. Now my rib cages are hugging my heart and soul tightly, and my arms and legs seem to be responding to the cold shower as it begins to quiver.

But what bothers me the most was what I mindlessly answered that night. It was almost as if an impulse. As if I had been asked that question several times before and gave similar answers. Did I feel like I wasn’t enough? Do I really feel like I’m not enough?

Until now I still question myself, “what do other girls have that I don’t?”. Am I really not girlfriend-material? Do they only see me as an option? The one you talk to when you’re waiting for someone you’re sure with? The pampalipas oras. Am I not worthy of their love? Am I not worthy of anyone’s time? Am I too much? Am I not enough? Do I make it seem like I’m a heavy baggage? Am I really the type of person not worth pursuing?

Or...

Am I simply not looking for love at the right places? Is it the time? What else could make my life go oh so wrong?

The question lingers. It pops up unwantedly, goes away momentarily, then suddenly reappears whenever it feels like it, completely crushing my soul into tiny million pieces. It creeps in the wrong places and at the wrong time. It sucks the living shit out of me.

Finally, I stand up.

I lather my whole body with soap. Then I rinse, hoping it could wash away my anxiety and insecurities just like how it washes the dirt away.

bloom

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