Showing posts with label Pity the Fool. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pity the Fool. Show all posts

Saturday, January 13, 2007

All Good Things Must Come to An End

22

All good things must come to an end.

And of all days... today.

I'm not sure how to proceed.

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Thursday, January 04, 2007

A Post About Sports? What?

Sweat. Aching arms. Exhaustion and tiredness.

I'm too tired to write a long post, but I just want to say this: I just played badminton and JOGGED. For real. Sweat. Aching arms. Exhaustion and tiredness. I have more thoughts, but my body is screaming for me to get out of the MOTHERF-ING CHAIR AND TAKE THIS POOR LITTLE PIECE OF MEAT BACK ON THE BED WHERE IT BELONGS.

I'm not going to be able to work tomorrow. I can feel it.

Pity the fool.

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Sunday, December 03, 2006

An Open Letter of Death

This is NOT a suicide note.

Disclaimer: This is NOT a suicide note.

Given the way things are going, I think someone out there wants me dead.

I'm serious. Maybe when a certain somebody texted, "magpapakamatay na niyan si ker," she was right. Not for the reasons she might be thinking, oh no. I've already written a post about that, and I wouldn't go as far as killing myself for it. Quite the opposite, in fact. I have no intention of hanging myself on a noose just because of someone else's richly deserved good fortune. Please. But maybe the end result is the same, and everyone, not solely limited to that girl, is going to have his or her own opinion regarding the real reason for my death. And no one could really dispute anyone else's claim or opinion. I would be the only one to know, and that would be quite unfortunate, wouldn't it? So here I am blogging, just to make sure everyone understands what I'm NOT killing myself for, given that scenario wherein I do kill myself.

I AM NOT GOING TO KILL MYSELF BECAUSE OF LOVE, OR LACK THEREOF. While it has been a very, very, very humbling experience to be rejected at worst or to receive lukewarm treatment at best, it is not enough of a driving force to push myself over the edge. I am not as much of a fantastic person as I once thought, and while this is hard to accept, it is to be expected. I'm too full of myself. But I love myself too much to commit suicide simply because I don't get any reciprocation. And I just combined two thoughts in a single paragraph and it utterly destroyed any semblance of coherence, but I don't care because this is the suicide note that isn't.

So everyone clear on that one? I am not going to kill myself for love, or my lack thereof.

If ever I do find time to drink cyanide or OD on sleeping pills or jump on top of a 20-storey building, I'm going to do it because I FEEL ALONE. I FEEL LONELY. I am not going to say that I AM ALONE or I AM LONELY, because, shockingly enough, despite my (1) flair for dramatics; (2) lack of sensitivity or thoughtfulness; (3) selfishness; and (4) constant regression into mood swings and self-pity, people actually do care for me. I can name a lot of people whose hearts are reaching out to me this very instant just by reading this very entry. And I thank you. I thank you very much. Without you, the thought of suicide would become so much more appealing. But then, that's that. I may not be alone, but I feel alone. I may not be lonely, but I feel lonely. I guess I have come to a point where I cannot be reached.

This brings to mind What Dreams May Come, one of my most favorite movies of all time. I bring this up because I can relate to Robin Williams's wife in that film. In that film, the wife committed suicide. As a result, her soul was banished to purgatory/hell (I can't remember which). When Robin Williams, then in a quest to reunite his family in the afterlife, went to rescue her, he immediately found out that his wife no longer recognized him. She had gone to a place so deep that no one could reach her.

Maybe I'm in that place. And what's worse, I have no Robin Williams to save me.

(Okay. So you might be thinking that I'm contradicting myself. "I'm not going to commit suicide because of love," so I say, and yet I also say that "I have no Robin Williams to save me." But I think the distinction should be clear on this one. I am NOT going to kill myself because of LACK OF LOVE; I am going to do it (if ever) because I FEEL LONELY. WHAT'S WORSE (meaning: not the primary concern, but an aggravating factor), I have no one to save me. Enough of the technicalities. Let's move on.)

I need a savior. If ever you're out there, come out, save me. I need saving these days. Dig deep into the trench I have fallen myself into and raise me up. Make me feel that I'm a better person. Don't just tell me I'm good-- make me feel that I'm good. Show me that I'm not the shit that I am right now. Make me feel loved. Teach me again to love. Rescue me partner, whoever you are.

As I've wrote somewhere before: I saved someone once. Can somebody save me now?

Hurry up. Clock's a-ticking. My time is running short.


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Saturday, December 02, 2006

Somebody Save Me

I need to let something out.

I don't usually post lyrics of songs, but this is needed. I need to let something out.

I feel my wings have broken in your hands
I feel the words unspoken inside

When they pull you under
And I would give you anything you want
Well all I wanted
All my dreams have fallen down
Crawling around somebody save me
And two warm hands break right through me
Somebody save me
I don't care how you do it
Just stay
Stay
Come on
I've been waiting for you

I see the world has folded in your heart
I feel the waves crash down inside

And they pull me under
I would give you anything you want
Well all I wanted
And all my dreams have fallen down
Crawling around somebody save me
And two warm hands break right through me
Somebody save me
I don't care how you do it
Just stay
Stay
Come on
I've been waiting for you

And all my dreams are on the ground

Crawling around somebody save me
And two warm hands break right through me
Somebody save me
I don't care how you do it
Just save me

I've made this whole world shine for
Just stay
Stay
Come on
I'm still waiting for you


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Monday, November 27, 2006

Resignation

As some people would put it, "That's life."

I just received news that struck me the wrong way. It shouldn't have affected me the wrong way, but it did. There is nothing I can do now to change the way I feel. Maybe in the next few days or so, it would just fade into my subconscious like everything else, but as of the moment, I feel... off. And to top it all off, this confusing state of affairs happened just about the time when I was experiencing my own confusing state of affairs. The exhilaration of having back the "shivers"; then the disappointing realization that the "shivers" may be something temporary; then back again to the exhilaration. Who knows what it will be tomorrow?

I don't know what to think, don't know what to feel. I am both happy and sad. I know what I want yet don't. Sometimes, I just don't want to think anymore. I just want to sleep and stay in bed until somebody picks me up and places me in a mental hospital.

Weird. I had a blast last night in Eastwood. I actually felt alive and hopeful and optimistic that things will finally be back on track and that I wouldn't be a stranger to myself anymore. But Sunday came and everything just kinda backtracked. So instead of sleeping at 11 PM with a smile on my face, I'm actually still up at 12 AM with my brows together and my lips pursed together in all seriousness.

I am once again a wreck. And then I'll try to hide these things again from all the people around me. And I'll succeed in deluding myself that I am OK. And everyone will think I am OK, because I feel OK. But at the end of the day, or during some really quiet time, my mind would begin to wander, and I would be faced again with the reality that I am not OK.

As some people would put it, "That's life."

Boy, did that shrug and sigh of resignation feel so apt.

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Sunday, September 24, 2006

Karmic Retribution

...two days ago, I would have written this.

[Note: If not for the technical problems our computer faced two days ago, I would have written this. The tone of the entry does not necessarily reflect how I'm feeling now, but it sure as hell reflects how I felt two days ago.]

In Grade 4, during a class meeting, our president asked if there were issues or concerns that needed to be addressed by the class during that time. One of the members of the group I led raised her hand and told the class, "I think Kerwin is an irresponsible leader." She saved herself the trouble of sugarcoating her words. I cried in front of everyone.

In Grade 5, I experienced another issue with responsibility. Two of my groupmates drew faces and wrote "Kailan tayo pa-practice ng ating sayaw? Boo! Nye nye nye nye nye!" on my intermediate pad paper. They did this while I was away, so I did not know it was them until they told me much, much later. I cried upon seeing the anonymous messages. I was once again the elected leader of that group.

In Grade 6, I lost the P500 my parents gave me as payment for the required grade school yearbook. Knowing I would be asked about it, I stole P500 pesos from our sari-sari store just so that I would be able to present something. I was indeed asked, but I was also found out when my uncle discovered the original money inadvertently thrown in the garbage bin. My father made me vow never to do it again, with my right hand raised and my left hand pressed against the Bible, appearing as though I was a witness on the court stand. That same year, I spent the P500 playing PlayStation with my friends.

In Grade 6, one of my friends shouted at me that she did not need me in her life.

In the summer of 2000, before entering my 4th year in high school, I joined the AJSS, held here in Manila. I thoroughly enjoyed it, but in the course of that stay, I managed to alienate my friends back in Davao. Three of them were pissed at me, and another two were slightly pissed because the others were pissed. One of them came back from her trip in Italy without buying me any pasalubong, because she was pissed. When the air cleared and we were able to talk about what happened, they were pissed because I ignored them, and apparently I came across like an arrogant jerk. Pissable, indeed.

In 4th year high school, my girl best friend waged a 6-month silent war against me, the onset of which was marked by an eloquently written but nonetheless painful e-mail with the subject of: "You Are Such a Jerk." That same year, another best friend wrote me a Post-It note saying, "I don't think I can talk to you right now."

Before entering college, one of my closest guy friends told me something so heartfelt and so personal about himself that I knew he needed all the support he could get at that critical juncture in his life. I chose to stay away instead.

In 2nd year college, one of my closest friends told me that I had betrayed her. Our friendship ended at that point. That same night, someone who's been nothing but kind to me told me that I had betrayed him.

In 4th year college, I betrayed someone special again.

In my 1st year of work, during one of my infrequent vacations, my parents told me that they had the impression that I had no concern for them or for my brothers.

In my 2nd year of work, one of my officemates, perhaps the one I was closest with, got mad because she felt I did not have enough time for them. That I failed to reach out as actively as I could have. I cried once again.

And now, this.

Could four different periods in my life be wrong?

I am not a good son.
I am not a good brother.
I am not a good friend.
I am not a good lover.

Stay away from me. I will just hurt you.

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Sunday, September 03, 2006

Of Ends and Beginnings

- - -

My heart bleeds.

It's so painful.

It hurts so bad.

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Saturday, September 02, 2006

- - -

Deep Within

i'm tired.
i'm confused.
i don't want to think anymore.

that's what i've always done.
think and think and think some more.

why can't i just have fun?
why do i always have to think?

i want to be in a happy place.
i want to be blissful: in a beach, in a resthouse, in a bar.
away from everything.
away from every single thing that causes me sadness.
with a glass of juice, or a pillow, or a beer in hand.
alone, but not really alone.
talking to the sea, talking to the birds, talking to some random stranger.

no one i know is with me.
in this place, i am in a bubble.
protected. defended. secure.

i worry about nothing.
i worry about no one.

because in the end, there's just me.

i deserve to be alone. i think i'm meant to be alone.

i am terribly, terribly tired.
i am terribly, terribly sad.

just.
sad.

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