Para kay Cocoon-who-shall-not-be-named at sa lahat ng butterfly species

How do you deal with anger?

Do you scream? Do you yell at those freaking souls in disguise who are so disillusioned by their own image of themselves? Do you call them mother-fucking bitches? Do you utter curses and wish them to never ever be lucky, to starve to death, or to live their lives in hell?

Do you vent your anger on something else? Do you blame the innocents? Do you blame yourself? Do you make yourself accountable to the disgusting smiles of so-called friends'? Do you actually convince yourself to believe you had a part on all hostililities? That you deserve it?

Do you express your anger in songs, in phrases in jetes and battements? Do you just shut up, contain all the rage and let them burst into a piece of performance? of angsty moves and angsty tunes?

 

How do you deal with anger

                  especially when...

                            you know that...

your grunts...

your tears...

your attempts to match the poker faces...

                                    even...

your prayers...

your hope...

your birthday wishes...

                              

          DON'T MATTER TO THEIR "PIOUS" MINDS AND THEIR TEXTBOOK HEARTS?

 

How do you?

When in fact they don't feel your pain. Even if they do, they'd ignore.

After all...

They are artificial.

                        They are.

 

The hell with titles! wala!

You said you are tired of drama. Understandable. But that means you're tired of me, 'cause I'm all drama.

You said you want to make your life simple. I take it my complications won't fit into that idea.

You said you hate interrupted happiness. That, I don't understand. Maybe we have different definitions of happiness. My happiness is never interrupted. I get to eat, to sing, to cook, to play, to read, to write, to dance, to have a good laugh. Interruptions to those are only momentary.

"It's either you're impossibly oblivious or you're just plain insensitive." I can't believe I heard those from you. I can't believe I'd ever hear those at all.

My silence affected you. But don't you even care to know how it feels to be silent and the reasons behind? I'm pressed to keep things to myself. I can't tell the world how heavy my troubles are. I shouldn't. In fact, nobody should. Nobody is the center of the universe after all. Everyone goes through troubles. I know those things. Who doesn't?

In silence I fight my battles. In silence I find comfort. Sensible people would know that focusing too much on problems and involving everyone in your own misery is one damn act of selfishness. I don't want to be selfish.

I told you there are people who are going through much more, and that we're luckier than most. Sarcastically, you tell me I gave you such a relief? I'm lost... is it really me who's insensitive?

What happiness of yours did my silence interrupt? If it's not my silence, then why am I getting all the hostility? I've had happy moments with you. The good food, good music, small talks, serious conversations, even our trips to the grocery store -- all those made me happy. Does my silence ruin those moments? Really, what happiness are you talking about?

Walang Pamagat

Para na yata ako'ng si Don Quixote... sobra ang paniniwalang may Dulcinea.

Para din ako'ng yung babae sa Lohika Ng Mga Bula Ng Sabon... bumuo ng sarili niyang Sandali.

Tsk tsk. kawawa naman 'tong blog na 'to.

Suntukan na lang! Ano? Ano?

Itetext ko sana ng ganito: "ang kapal mo. mamatay ka na sana" o kaya ng "wag na wag ka na babalik dito" o kaya naman "makakaganti din ako sa'yo" pero di man lang ako nakapag-compose. may load ako. di lang ako makatext kasi parang lalu lang ako magiging talunan.

kung sakaling paulanan ko ng mura, masasaktan kaya gaya nung sakit na majombag ng mga insulto? hanep. hamunin ko kaya one-on-one na lang kami? di naman kalakihan ang katawan niya,di nga nagwoworkout eh medyo may tiyan pa. kung tutuusin mas muscular pa nga ako sa kanya. pero bakit kaya nung huli kaming magpisikalan mas malakas pa rin siya? pero di bale na, atleast mas mahina yung suntok kaysa sa bibig niyang mala-kamao ni Pacman.

saan ba mas kapitapitagang matalo? sa usapan o sa bakbakan? mas may dignity bang matalo sa sapakan o sa murahan? pagbigyan niyo na ko... buti nga kahit papaano may choices.

narealize ko... pangbenteng beses ko na yata narealize to ngayon...

tama si Matute; mahirap pala talaga maging babae sa panahon ngayon. kahit na ang digmaan sa laway na lang nabubuhay.

mapagbirong site

The Authenticity of Friendship, or how give up on it

By this hour I promised to be seriously working on my paper but somehow I feel the necessity to unload what has been bothering me for the last few days. On second thought, I think I’ve been disturbed by my realizations for so long but was too scared to face the facts. Correct me, people, if my insights are rather too pessimistic. But I strongly believe all of us must be practical enough to veer away from our emotions and the ways we have been raised.

 

I grew up surrounded by different lives, people in different shapes, colors and sizes. My mom kept a lot of friends and I was raised to believe every individual, no matter how different from us they may be, deserves the true and never-ending friendships we have to offer.

 

I will not go over detailed accounts of the misfortunes and disappointments I have had with regards to “friends” I have kept and taken care of all these years (and months). But I guess enumerating the lessons I got from painful and shocking experiences can help me and others in handling personal relationships better. I’m sharing all these lessons, partly to myself to let them sink in into my stubborn and sometimes irrational head, and to everyone and anyone who has yet to see examples that they truly happen in real life.

 

1. The triviality of friendship: Lately I have discovered some things that I never thought I would encounter with people I call “friends”. Yes, even best-friendship may be as trivial as acquaintance. Sometimes it’s even better to relate to your neighbor coz a neighbor is a neighbor by the mere essence of the name. You won’t call neighbors the first time you get laid nor when you discovered you mother was a mistress. Reason? You won’t expect neighbors to sympathize. Then who would? Of course besides family the immediate answer is a friend. But mind you, it could be very misleading. Some people might be there for you one time or even all the time then betray you the next.
   
2. The necessity of standards and requirements: Certainly there has to be categories. You can’t label everyone as “friends” just because you spent hours and hours of serious talk, not even when you shared emotions in distress and in happiness, not even when one person has been there for you all these years (or so you thought), not even spending time together has become a daily routine. And in all these confusions, time is never a qualifying factor. Time does not prove truthfulness, nor does it reveal authenticity.
   
3. Being true to everyone does not necessarily mean everyone is true to you. It’s a two-way traffic. I used to believe my being true to people and my generosity to share my thoughts and confusions will pull the strings. But whoa, it’s possible for people to use anything you said against you, just to save their asses (and without even bothering to inform you that they used you as an excuse).
   
4. It’s a big no-no to assume your so-called friends understand you, your motivations, your intentions and your principles, even if they tell you and swore to you they do. Birds of the same feathers flock together --- piece of crap! It is never helpful to assume the people you give importance to are in the same frequency as yours.
   
5. Benefit of the doubt can only bring you trouble. Sometimes we refuse to judge because we think there has to be a very important reason behind every action and we hope that in that reason we will come to understand the people we value. We love to justify. But with further analysis, the benefit of the doubt is selfish. Selfish because it comes from the fright to get hurt. I was always afraid to lose anyone. I was afraid to think bad about the people I care about. And so I give the benefit of the doubt. But the doubt hindered me from making rational conclusions, thus, always stopped me from taking a stand. If you ask what I have become from giving infinite second chances, I’d admit to you that I am one person who failed to discern what is right from wrong. Now I regret giving away benefits of the doubt over and over.

 

I’m partly saying these to myself to wake my self from a winter-wonderland dream. I wish all is just a joke, or that I’ve lost my mind. But reality, statistics, make it clear, too clear that I can’t believe I was so stupid to hold on to my ideals. Honestly, I don’t know where to start now. I refuse to subject everyone I know to a true-friendship test, but it scares me to think that the numbers are being drained. There are a few people left, but it’s so damn hard not to anticipate another pain from a handful of neat friendships especially at a time when even the neatest of them already managed to stab you nonchalantly.

Upgraditis (Its Symptoms, Manifestations, and Treatment Procedures)

This morning I read Butch Dalisay's article in Star. In his discussion of how often he upgrades his techie gadgets, he introduced one very relevant word.

Upgraditis -- the mind-numbing, toe-curling urge to get something newer and snazzier than what you already have, even if what you already have seems to be working perfectly and has served you as faithyfully as St. Bernard in the wintry Alps.

I was really affected by the article. Not that I'm techie; it's the idea that I can relate to. Let me modify the definition a bit. Mine goes like...

Upgraditis -- the mind-numbing, toe-curling, insomiac-turning, pimple-mass producing urge to get something/someone newer and snazzier than what you used to have, especially when what you used to have didn't seem to be working perfectly and had served you rather unfaithfully as Polgas in Pugad Baboy.

Perhaps you now know where this is leading. Friends, I won't even ask you to bear with my mushy musings. I know you know it attacks every once in a while. And the consciousness is a rather positive sign, isn't it?

Butch Dalisay says his upgraditis afflicts him every 18 months for laptops and evry 12 months for cell phones. I really wish my upgraditis attacks just that often. But it doesn't.

Looking back, I guess I've been sick with it since time immemorial. When I first became aware that my family is so much different from the typical, ordinary family, I wanted to upgrade. When my mom started enjoying night-outs and frequent social-drinking engagements, I wanted to upgrade. When I first experienced how it is to be taken for granted and betrayed by a friend back in high school, i wanted to upgrade. When I took the course that I thought was the perfect one for me but turned out to be unenjoyable, I chose to upgrade. When my first boyfriend showed psycho tendencies, I chose to upgrade. When my friends didn't seem to be how they should be by the mere essence of the label, I chose to upgrade. Even in religion, I didn't stop searching for the better option because I wanted to upgrade. When I got pregnant, I decided to get married because I wanted to upgrade. When my so-called husband turned out to be an ultra dense PS addict, I made a decision because I want to upgrade my life.

You see, the upgrading doesn't come only when there's a new mini version of some gadgets or when MAC or Windows come out with a new product. My upgraditis afflicts me every single day of my life at every single point when I notice how messed up I have become since I first became aware that there are upgrades. I saw other families, other lives and other situations that clearly shows life could be better and more wonderful because others enjoy such. Yeah, I guess it's more of the consciousness of the "downgrades". Looking at dad's life, I think he downgraded himself too much, and with mom covering up for him in front of the whole nation, i honestly believe she has downgraded. I myself have downgraded a lot of times; peculiarly at those times when I thought I was upgrading, I actually downgraded.

My current upgraditis reached the level when all i want now is to upgrade everything. Critical condition, i guess. Level 3. I want an upgrade in my career, my lifestyle, my artistic endeavors, motherhood, and romance.

Sometimes I catch myself looking at men like little pieces of gadgets for sale. I check their features, their parts, their capabilities, their look, the material they're made of, their price, the number and kind of people who owned them or something similar, the resolution, the battery life, the accessories that they come with, their applications, etc. etc. I meticulously go over the brochures and catalogues because I want to be sure to get an upgrade.

Well.. besides the uneasy "mind-numbing, toe-curling" urge, I see that at this point in my life upgraditis helps. My upgraditis helps me set better standards in life. For instance, as I decide on which school I shall send Maya to, I check every single detail just to be sure my precious cherub will get better education than I did. For Maya I want to be 100 percent sure I choose an upgrade. Even in the way i relate with my friends now, I am more careful because I want my friends to have an upgraded Avie as a friend, as much as I want to keep better, upgraded friends.

I guess it's more of how you can control upgraditis rather than how to cure it. I feel restless most of the time in that chingytweengie feeling to upgrade my whole life, but then I've learned how to focus my thoughts on what could be immediately attended to in that whole project to upgrade.

Focus. Self-control. Thorough and practical thinking. Rationality. Maturity. Patience. Those are the supplements we need to take to be able to bear the uncurable disease. I feel bad for those people who run for refuge to just anything or anyone when failure haunts. I hope they'd be able to get the hang of upgraditis rather than settling for anything and anyone, be them downgrades. I also hope people won't succumb to the urge at the expense of their future or their sanity, in the end downgrading themselves.

Really, if upgraditis works like how it does in me right now, I'd pray that it's viral just so I can get everyone I know and meet infected by it.