#irllivin

[wormcocooncycle]

I am also going to drink like a motherfucker tonight.

Jk. Maybe not the tequila anymore.

[wormcocooncycle]

Roy lays down a few inches away from me, “Ingna ko if mo hilak ka ha kay atubangon taka, di ko ganahan nag talikod ko. Ingna ko.”

And of course, like the little softie that I am, I cry a little at those words.

I wonder how my friends see me. I miss all of them. Sometimes it just hurts too much to see them see me.

Last night, Rave chatted “naka suway nakag blind date? naay kaila si angeline. insikon. okay raka?”

That gave me a really good laugh, blind date sounds so archaic.

The other nights, Alyssa slept over for 2 nights. She went shopping with me at Carbon and Colonnade. I was mother hen all the time. I cooked adobo, and ginataang kalabasa. I also sliced some mangoes. They were very sweet.

The night after that my cousin and auntie arrived.

Other nights, I am alone. So, I reach out to Vian because I know for sure she’s awake in the other side of the world. We’d shoot the shit as usual. I update her how much I’ve cried over the week, how I improved on the time. And she’d tell me her own statistics. Then we’ll send memes and I tell her I miss her and that I love her and that she better take care, and that she should start getting serious on hinge.

There are also the times when I’m chatting with Rena. More often, I wish she was with me. Rena is also deeply hurt, and more than that, just still living in utter shit and confusion. I’d give her answers, sounds, acknowledgements. And Rena would thank me for giving the time in spite of not feeling well.

I wish I could just live with my friends. I wish I could just leave behind who I am, who I was, and who I am going to be.

Roy has fallen asleep while I write this, and now he’s woken up again.

I cover my eyes with the phone. Tear streaks drying from the harsh electric wind.

Thank you to all my friends that see me though I hide behind smiles, and competence.

[wormcocooncycle]

Lately

Dear Mr. I,

I've found myself a new visual artist to follow, Allan Balisi. His is hard to digest on screen, I learned this after looking back at the photos I took of his pieces at Blanc Gallery. Not that I am any good photographer really, I am more capture the feeling after all. Just so, how lucky that I saw all of them in person first.

Here is the god of Love. Flat at first glance, indeed it was the clasped hands that I stuck my face to first, but the god of Love called. And no sooner did I start to notice the arch of his eyebrows, his thin lips, and the single mindedness of his eyes than the feeling of being sucked in the artwork came over me.

Through him, I also found a local musical artist. Antemundane. I have two automatic favorites. But for here, I match Ccynic's Ssigh to Eros.

I have also remembered such a thought,

Writing is for the friend, including one that isn't yet known. periods of respite. the effort of clarification that has been begun must not be stopped, i am to do what is to be done.

I have feeling this isn't my longest entry to date, but it might just be.

I also took lots of silly photos Mr. I.

A monkey I would have posted tagging my sisters, and the pudgy face of this pig.

I have been walking a lot too.

Here is a photo I took of the back of my head to check if I tied my scarf correctly. I walk around with my scarf tied around my face, my water bottle in a crocheted tumbler bag, my mother's black, little, kipling bag, which I didn't tell her I was borrowing. And sometimes when the heat is too much, which it has always been here lately, I open my pink umbrella. I think I must look like someone's aunt, especially when I wear my slim sunglasses. No matter, I am an aunt.

I also remembered that I have not been to mass since January Mr. I, and I remember how I've put it in my head, hearing my mama's voice, that every new place that I stay at or visit, I should visit it's church. Even better if I attend mass. So I did attend the Sunday mass at Ateneo De Manila University with miss Janine and CJ/Duda, her sister.

I brought with me my sister's Sto. Nino for blessing, I may have double blessed it, but I'm not a hundred percent sure it got blessed in Cebu already. And I surely always forgot bringing it out whenever I attended the novenas masses during this year's Sinulog.

Sto. Nino at GESU church.

Lately, these have been what I've been doing Mr. I. Work has been mostly done online, we had to do some adjustment schedules for other meetings and requirements that needs to be accomplished. I wouldn't complain at all, I have been touring, taking respite, having walks, even playing with a dog, and getting a lot of time to myself.

Tomorrow, or perhaps this week, I begin to work hard. And I definitely will, I wish to give back all this time I've had.

Though, the crying and sadness still visits, lately with more bitterness and grief than usual, I am able to wake up in the mornings.

I take that as a win.

See you in another letter Mr. I. Please share this with Mr. W.

signed, Virla

[wormcocooncycle]

finding ways

[wormcocooncycle]

Here in Manila,

I am fed well. Ate Ai who cooks with unconventional ingredients, coke in a marinade, is warm and welcoming. I haven’t seen miss Ja’s sister, who happens to be a nutritionist like my Mama. The brother flew to Japan this morning for work. I also missed meeting him.

Tomorrow, I am to visit 3-4 museums and galleries. I hope to be so immersed that I don’t resent the young lady I will probably see reflected on the glass cases of precious artifacts.

I have to continue making plans. And I mustn’t throw myself anywhere.

A museum and gallery tour tomorrow.

[wormcocooncycle]

I am droopy eyed, and raspy voiced. I’m thankful nobody talks about the countenance of my face here.

I imagine I look sick when I get out of my room.

But every time I go to the bathroom and look at the mirror, I am always rosy cheeked. The black dye on my hair fading to a burgundy from the purple before it. Making me look healthier.

Objectively, I see a young lady who looks like she can do all of heart’s desire. When she smiles, her face splits and her droopy eyebrows transform. An inviting smile, like you also want to smile back at her.

This was always something I resented, most of the times I just wanted the sickness inside to come out. To reflect.

Maybe then I would have been treated kindly and respectfully. Taken cared of as I should have been at such a difficult time.

The memory of KC and Rave watching me pour out my fear at the Casa Garden will always comfort me.

I wonder why I reminisce now of those times. Is this part of the seeping sadness? It reaches out to my weakest moments?

At that time, the scanned images of my brain MRI were still burned in my eyes. As if the black and white prints were moving. The voice of the doctor would echo in my head no matter what I was doing. I remember the immediate fear that gripped me when he talked about possible procedures I need to undergo, and the activities I had to stop. Lifestyle changes that I never even thought of considering. It might have only been in a span of a week or two before I had a better prognosis. But I was like Jane in Ender’s ear, taken off for a few hours, but when worn again, it was already an eternity in my and Jane’s life. A wormhole that stayed.

How did Rave and KC notice the subtle changes in me at that time? And how did they cut to the chase, making me pour my heart and brain out so fast? I remember just sitting still, thinking about the possible medical procedures and recovery periods I would need to go through if I get unlucky. The financial burden, the physical toll, and the emotional burden I’d have to choke back. And while all of these were just in my head, KC ran her mouth talking about it all. It was so comforting hearing my fears out loud from somebody else’s mouth, without even my prompting.

I just sat there with my ankles intertwined, head bowed, and my hand clutched in KC’s.

I can cry just thinking about the tender moment. She talked my ear off. Tears just falling. Now and again Rave would come out the offie just to stare and offer a, “Okay rana Virl.”, or he’d say a stupid joke about his own kidney stones.

It still tears my heart, how loved I felt at the time.

I wonder why I’m remembering those moments now.

Someday I’m going to write these words better.

[wormcocooncycle]

It is Michael virla in the Bathroom once again.

picking at grout as I softly grieve

I'm just Michael who you don't know

Michael flying solo

Michael in the bathroom by himself

Everything felt fine

When I was half of a pair

And through no fault of mine

There's no other half there

I half regret

As I choke back the tears

I'll wait as long as I need

'Til my face is dry

My big mistake was showing up

Splash, splash, splash, splash

I throw some water in my face

And I am in a better place

I go to open up the door

But I can't hear knocking anymore

And I can't help but yearn

For a different time

And then I look in the mirror

And the present is clearer

And there's no denying, I'm just

This is a heinous night

I wish I stayed at home instead

Watching anime porn

Or wish I offed myself instead

Wish I was never born

all you know about me is my name

Awesome

It’s just me in the bathroom once again.

[wormcocooncycle]

Day whatever.

I have to remind myself it’s not linear.

I’m scared to meet Edrenz here in Manila. What if i break loose and fall apart?

I break a little just thinking about it.

I can’t seem to grasp the seeping sadness from me.

I send pictures to the two friends that know the inner workings of my mind and heart.

I feel bad for feeling this way. My headaches follow my heartaches. I am frustrated and defeated.

I just want to get over this part of my life now.

But I know, now is definitely the time to take care the most.

When I’m so soft, and vulnerable. Sore and pliable.

I have just cried my longest cry in a while. Here where nothing is familiar. The green of the curtain at least, is a color I know from home.

I’ll have to go out after work tomorrow.