Monday, September 29, 2003

are women slaves to their hormones? i seem to be. my eyelids are swollen from crying the past two nights. and what do u know? my period came today. not that i've been crying for no apparent reason. but usually, im more able to control my emotions, and therefore lessen the pressure on my tear ducts.

i cried saturday night because i had to flesh out some building tensions with me and my brother. i have been telling him to cut back on energy consumption since june, ever since i started shouldering our utilities. its no secret how meralco (manila's electric provider cum consumer-robber) has been passing on to us clueless power consumers their own fucked up mismanagement and debts. anyway, friday night tensions between bro and me came to a head.

he was on the pc playing ragnarok and watching his anime vcd's from around 2pm til midnight. i left the house and he was on the pc. when i got back, he was still on. i asked him what time he and his gf would leave (he usually sleeps over at her place). i think months of me raggin on him to "magtipid ng kuryente" finally got to him. he left in a huff, leaving all the lights open downstairs. i didn't take it seriously. i confess, i often take my brother's drama for granted

saturday evening came the climax to this scenario. i spent the afternoon at my usual coffee house to work on my papers. my best friend was there with me to study for her cpa boards. we went back here to change and freshen up for a birthday party we were supposed to attend. my brother, as usual was on the pc. i didnt pay him any mind and quickly went upstairs. apparently, he was mouthing off to my friend and her boyfriend.

my brother took my 'nagging' in his usually oversensitive way. i admit, i feel saddled with a brother who is wasting away years playing network games and pretty much slacking off instead of building on his potentials and improving himself as a person. i have told him countless times i feel strongly about him not finishing college. he was enrolled in ust but he droppout out. he enrolled at st. joseph and dropped out. he has been in and out of different computer universities for the past 2 years. starting and stopping. wasting financial resources.

saturday night, after the birthday party, i confronted him. i asked him to speak first and tell me his hurts. true enough he said he felt i didn't respect him (he cited instances where he felt this was obvious). i told him how much i still believe in his potentials and how i defend him each time people say something disparaging about his character. i believe in my brother. if only he put his mind to what his does and stop drifting off and losing focus. i told him we aren't children anymore, and that we should take responsibility for our lives little by little. we are lucky in that we aren't forced out in the cruel world. that we still have the option of running to mommy. now that we only have one living parent, i told him how we should ease some of her burdens, us being one of them. the initiative wouldn't come from her. she would never ask us to start taking care of ourselves. she loves us that much. the initiative has to come from us, i said.

he said i could never do wrong in the eyes of everyone. i told him, i only try. and i do have insecurities, i have doubts about myself. i don't think im the paragon of virtues or whatever, far from it. i only implored him to try his best. if not for me or himself, then for our mom.

why i cried sunday night...i will write about tomorrow.

Friday, September 26, 2003

what's the punishment for gluttony? food poisoning. i ate so goddamn much wednesday at this buffet resto along west avenue. my bestfriend's mom treated us. nothing better than free food right? i knew those fucking mussels tasted weird. now i've been stuck in the house for two fucking days because i've been puking and pooping like hell. at least i'm not feeling as faint as yesterday. i swear, no more gluttonous eating for me. for a while :)

Wednesday, September 24, 2003

such a problematic relationship with teacher. it is complicated by the fact that he looks so much like my father. in so many ways, his personal attachment to his students cloud his actions, the things he says, the way he relates to us.

so he called me an airhead a few classes back. we were discussing military interventions, i wasn't particularly paying attention to his loooong and wiiiinding explications. my mind wandered off, and when he finished his monologue, i raised my hand to make a comment. which turned out to be somewhat like what he said, only i said it in one breath. obviously he was pissed. and called me that name in front of class, all of whom were mostly older than me.

i took it in stride i managed to stay composed. but i was hurt of course. and humiliated. he was acting like a complete jerk like only he can be. he made a few other side comments, equally as humiliating.

i didnt say much afterwards. i drove him back to his apartment as usual. the next class i didnt attend. that day i wasn't in any particular mood to take any more verbal attacks from him. last friday i did go to class. i was hesitant to open my mouth, but i did anyway. i made a comment before i talked about the issue at hand, about how ive been feeling intimidated by my other classmate's contributions.

i did it in part to give myself some sort of excuse in case he made another derogatory remark. something like, "let it be known that this is the airhead speaking. after i spoke he said he didn't know why i made that comment. i said, ive been finding the course difficult. he said, well its because you've been absent. i said, i've been having a hard time from the start.

we were bickering, right there in front of everyone. it was embarassing, but i didn't really mind. i said, id like to talk about it later. he mumbled something like he didn't want to talk about it.

during the break, i approached him to flesh things out. i dont know what happened, but i explained my side, crying. i told him i was hurt when he called me an airhead, and made other comments. he apologized, saying i should know he doesn't really think that, and that he didn't know those words escaped his mouth.

what could i do? he hugged me tight. i wanted to let go because our other classmates where probably 4 feet from us and heard the whole exchange. it looked like a lover's quarrel for crying out loud. and he kissed my forehead. god, i thought he would kiss me.

this is without doubt, a brilliant man. i would say he is the best professor i've ever worked with. but he is also a highly unpredictable, volatile man. that is why, im keeping my distance from him.

i just hope, people don't talk.

Sunday, September 14, 2003

its another sunday. and its pretty bad. just abject loneliness. longing for someone. just anyone? or a particular someone? my knight in shining armor? fuck, i don't know. i just feel so miserable today. no amount of clove cigarettes will dispel the the feeling. i wanted to go spend some time with my mom, but she's gone to tagaytay to see a property. business. i suppose to help keep her busy. maybe she's lonely too.

Sunday, September 07, 2003

ecstasies in addictions

wallow in the ecstasy of self-indulgence. savor the after taste in your mouth. hold on to the moment, savor each nuanced detail. commit the taste, the feel, the smell to memory. breathe it in deep and slowly, reluctantly exhale. let it go. let it out your mouth, in between your lips. open up.

delight in the freedom of losing control. be free. free yourself of guilt, restraint and self-repression. succumb to the temptations and embrace self-destruction with open arms.

the depths you're willing to sink reflect the mindless joy of the moment, feeding your addiction. loving your addiction. basking in your addiction. falling down the downward spiral, in ecstacy still, you wonder how far til the very bottom. will it hurt? will you bruise? will you break?

enjoy your trip down the path of no return. never let there be doubts or regrets. never has self-abuse and self-loathing been wrapped up in such a heady concoction. leave the hurting for later.
i've had my share of astoundlingly stupid things i did. and last night takes the cake. fred came over because i pushed him to. i just wanted to see him and talk. we did, for the first couple of hours. on my bed of course, wit the u.s. open in the background.

i told him i will not make out with him. but maybe i wasn't forceful enough. maybe, i didn't really mean it? because i so wanted to hug him/touch him. and it feels so good when we kiss. the things he does to me. i don't have a problem with that. my problem is his reaction right after. because the last time, he pulled away from me. emotionally.

so last night i was prepared. maybe i wont hear from him in a few days. i got profuse apologies and regrets from him on text. i didn't respond. because i didn't regret it. i love this person. i think. why else am i risking so much because of him? why else did i let him have his way last night? because i wanted to get him off. because it felt good. because i care for him. but do i have the strength to not break when things go really downhill?

he says he cares for me and loves me as a friend. he says we probably shouldnt be in a place alone anymore because he can't help himself. are men mindless slaves to their lust? i wish i knew the answers. i wish i knew how he really felt for me. am i sending mixed signals? because that is all i get from him.

Wednesday, September 03, 2003

the things that come to mind when driving...

of whores, pimps and tits

advertizing is the the whore of capitalism. no its the pimp of capitalism. nah, better yet, according to muffin, its the tits of capitalism. yes. advertizing makes whoring customers of us all.

glossy, shiny ads unfold their come-hither promise of fulfilling our every need. from the basest to the loftiest. from the cheapest to the most expensive. ads cater to our desires of spontaneous fulfillment. the urge to acquire and consume is brought to fever pitch. constant bombardment of images flood our senses. from dusk til dawn, every waking moment they call to us.

and like zombies, we answer. under hypnosis, every created want must be sated. nevermind the limits of our buying capacity, nevermind the inanity of the actual product being bought. nevermind the superficiality. bandwagons must be rode on. trends must be caught...much like disease.

image, stature and status must be upheld. the flashier the whore the better. the best pimps must exhaust all their creative juices to sell at the highest price possible. and we, customer-sheep, are powerless it seems to resist. after all, who can deny the urge to fuck and be fucked?

i meant to just get my book, 'global transformations' from him. i really did. i drove there, last night, to our meeting place, not a little bit angry. i was unsettled, a bit furious mostly because i felt rejected and hurt by fred. it wasn't an excuse to just see him. because if i really wanted to, he offered to give me the pasta he made a couple of weeks ago.

and so 9.30 sharp i was waiting in the car outside for him. he came, taller than i remembered last. he seemed to have gained weight, which is good rail thin as he is. i saw him, clutching my books and it was awkward. both of us standing looking at each other, not knowing what to do with ourselves. and then he reached into his pocket and brought out a small stuffed dog. "i want to give this to u for safekeeping," he said. my resolve melted, my anger blown away like ashes of clove cigs. water pooled in my eyes, and i can only stare at the brown and beige doggie, dumbfounded.

"do u want to sit down?" i said. we sat down, sitting perpendicular to each other. as usual, he was staring at my breasts. but i take no offense, since he does it every time we see each other. they're part his afterall, or so i said when things were uncomplicated and sweet.

we sat down and made small talk. i asked him what to call the dog. he said it looked like his dog haru who died a couple of years ago. more small talk, mostly i wasn't looking at him. but i was looking at his arms, his hands. i so wanted to reach out and touch him. the electricity, the want, the chemistry if you will, between us is palpable. still. i hadn't seen him in weeks, and what i truly wanted was mostly unarticulated even to me last night. but when i got home, i knew that i still wanted him.

it was only 15 minutes or so. he was sick and had to go home. i needed to be away from him before i took leave of my senses. he walked me to the car, i opened the door and he said, "can i get a hug?" my eyes watered again, i was looking at a point over his right shoulder, but i gave him his hug. half-baked, half-assed. i didn't want to touch him too long. it hurt.

when i got home, i cried. because i realized i missed him. it didn't matter how much he hurt me. like always, through text, he told me he loved me. friend. always with that qualification. he said he'll love me in his own obscure ways. i believe him. i texted back saying i wish i had the wisdom to see him trying and that i loved him too. and that i wish i had the wisdom to do it selflessly.

Monday, September 01, 2003

a practice in self-obsession. when we get into a romantic relationship, don't we fall in love with ourselves through the eyes of someone else? loving and appreciating ourselves through someone else.

isn't that just fucked up? but doesn't it have the ring of truth in there somewhere? we see ourselves through another person's perspective, our flaws are accepted and glossed over, our strong points admired and appreciated. and we preen, pose and are glad for it. isn't falling in love the ultimate act of vanity?