Repetition

Life surprised me the day I met you.

I went to school grumpy that morning, as any Tuesday or Thursday mornings were, routinely complaining to the world why the hell did it create 7:30 classes and next, cursing myself to oblivion for not sleeping earlier. I entered the cafeteria with my one-track mind telling me to order the usual coffee I consume and to stay at one of the inconspicuous tables. Deeply sighing, I walked towards the refrigerator, got my drink of choice, paid the cashier, uttered "Good Morning!" to a passing colleague and quickly spotted a seat. As I daze through the whole process, I noticed for a second (or maybe 2?) that you ordered ham and cheese sandwich instead of your usual Champorado.

Wow, you broke your own rhythm, I wanted to tell you. Of the six days I saw you, this was the first time you had a different vibe; it seemed like the beats of your footsteps changed. You usually get in line next to me, that's why I observed that you have (well, had) a cycle too.

When I finally settled down at my place of the day, a strange urge made me look at the direction of the cashier. I pushed down the thoughts and the little gusto I felt, reminding myself that I am not a person who sneaks glances but makes contact.

Apparently, we're the same.

Exactly 2 minutes and 34 seconds after I convinced myself not to search for your familiar figure, I heard the quiet, clattering sound of the tray hitting my table. My head snapped at the direction of the noise, and there you are, smiling. You removed your earphones, and asked, "Mocha, again?"

Broken and Disturbed.

3. The corporate world is not for me. 

I've been having a college crisis because of a shift that took place inside of me. I no longer dream about working and creating marketing strategies and advertisements for the biggest companies in the world. I do not want to be stuck inside the office and meetings because I realized I won't find meaning in that. I want to do things that count-- well, at least what counts for me. I want to change the world in my own little way, and I know that an advertising career won't be my weapon.

As I reflect and ponder about what my life has been telling me, I found myself unearthing a deep yearning I hid inside the recess of my heart: I want to teach. There is no greater honor than forming people who will be smarter, greater and better than I will ever be. I want to be one of their stepping stones to whatever one defines as success. I want to support the dreams of kids whether it is to become next superstar or the world' most beloved McDo deliveryman. For once, I want to repay my past teachers who helped form me into the person I am now by helping a kid or two overcome his/her/their battles.

I want to nurture a kids' dreams because, as what one wise woman said, "...without dreams, they are not human beings."



2. Time to get out of the tower.

I called myself "Rapunchel" because I used to compare my main internal conflict to that of the real heroine's situation. I locked myself inside a high tower built on pain, rejection and the past. I did not let anyone take care of me, or know me enough. I let fears block my way to growth.

Funny how He sends people who has the capacity to make me realize that I have to get out of my dark place. My family and friends have been waiting on the ground to catch me and there I was, doubting and hurting. When ASLA came into my life, it's as if He directly told me that,

"Enough. You've been there for eight years. You said you want and dream to be a leader that fosters the dreams of others. How can you show that you really want that dream to come true when you are not outside of the tower? Get down. The world will hurt you but there will be people who will hurt with you. These people, like you, are in pain because they've loved and sacrificed. Get down, and you will meet them. Get down, and crumble that tower of yours."

I am currently climbing down. As soon as my feet touch the ground, I will press the button and explode the tower into smithereens. No more darkness for this lady!!!


1. Brokenness is truly a gift

It is. Believe me. When I accepted the fact that I am broken, I am able to open up and give the pieces of myself to others. It sounds ironic but I feel like I'm starting to get whole again when I give.


Final words: It's okay to be disturbed.

I won't come to my senses and embrace my passion if I weren't disturbed by my surroundings. I mean, does reality need to be a continuing nightmare for others when it can be better and brighter than dreams? I sound idealistic and I am, but why do I have to follow the status quo when I can do my part to change it?

I hope this zeal and zest will stay for all my life. I am still disturbed, more than ever.

I am Chel and I rally for quality education and equal job opportunities for the urban poor.

Pag-uulit

"Hindi naman nagbago ang pagmamahal ko sa kanya eh, nag-ibang anyo lang. Walang akong pinapangarap araw-araw kundi ang kaligayahan niya. Sa ganitong paraan ko siya minamahal."

Glimpse

It’s getting harder to be okay when internally you feel like a mess and there are people who are insensitive enough to step on your feelings. People who don’t know even half of the shit you are going through.

And you’re just here, crying out of frustration, trying not to be mad and wanting to be very much okay.

Word Vomit: Sand

I'd give anything to feel something other than this. I'm very afraid that I might continually forget and let cynicism wash over me. The footprints left are all I have--- they are my reminder that twice I risked to let someone in and if anything, the past shouldn't hinder me to let someone stay.

Word Vomit: Railway

I hope this won't make you uncomfortable. To the tell you truth, I am reluctant to write this but I can't let this chance slip away.

You told me our timing was off. We ignored the signs and took the wrong routes that when we met again, we were still on the same train only with the unnecessary baggage. Instead of walking away, I carried your bags as you carried mine. We shared what was inside of every pocket and laughed and cried with each secret uncovered. We started drinking coffee and spending the hours talking and talking and talking...and talking and we became a habit. We became a fixture I look forward to every time I wake up.

However, every ride has its end. You and I had places to go. We each have responsibilities. When the train stopped at my station, you  took my baggage away and told me to go and forget you. You made me promise to erase you because you were once one of those boys that left the unwanted souvenirs upon my door. You told me that the universe wasn't ready. You told me that our timing was off.

But I can't forget you. When everyday does not preoccupy my time, I think of you and the things I wish I expressed. What if, by continuing to pretend that nothing happened, we are on the wrong road again? What if the timing was, in fact, right? What if my final destination is really you? I don't want to live in the what-ifs anymore. Please, if you are still even just a fraction of the man I know, come to your train station. I'm here. Meet me for the third time.

Cracking My Own Shell

I passed the fifth and final stage of grief a couple of weeks back. What we had, what we potentially had, and what we will never have...I came to accept them all. The way I remember him now blares lights of happiness. I guess that there is just nothing left to say between us except hi.

However, I have been burying an inner yearning for companionship, passion and sincerity underneath the seemingly cold statements about love that I utter. At night, I waited for the clock to strike 11:11 and crossed my fingers for romantic happiness. I wished at the stars, at the fallen eyelashes, and at God that he may find me and set me free from the overwhelming loneliness and insecurity I was experiencing. 

This continued until I woke up one day and saw change. I realized that deep in the recess of my heart, the need to be in a relationship with someone lies with my simple wish of having someone who will stay with me. Someone whose heart will inspire me to stay too. Someone who will change me in ways different and similar to the ways that I will change him. Someone who will stay after seeing the ugliest side of my diamond.

Someone who will make me brave enough to try and engage into intimacy that comes with being in love and love. 

It was then that I thought of the other people who want that kind of love in their lives too. I thought that maybe I am not alone in this state and perhaps if I just reach out my hand, I can hold someone's hand too and feel not so lonely anymore. Perhaps if I just break through the walls of self-misery, I can interact with the ones I never gave the chance to and truly appreciate the other kinds of love existing in my life. Perhaps, if I change myself into a being aware of loneliness dwelling in her soul and is still fighting for friendship and intimacy, I can truly love someone in that way.

I know I am still not ready to start that journey again. For now, I am looking for a way back to God. I miss the closeness we had before all these things happened in my life. I am absorbing and giving happiness from and to my family, friends, colleagues, interests and hobbies. I am loving Him and them. I am recognizing the fact that love is not limited to romantic love---that it comes in different forms. I am slowly stretching my hands out. I am happy.

On Being True

I miss the younger, wilder and fiercer girl that I was but I'm not her anymore. This is me---cautious, wanderlusting, and complicated lady-in-the-making. If I cannot accept who I am today, then who will I be in the future? Nothing, like the dust freely-flowing in the wind. Nothing, like a puppet strung around by the society. Nothing, but a non-existent space invisible to the eye. I don't want to become a nothing.

I certainly won't be a nothing. I want to be somebody. I will be somebody. I may not fully know who I am today, but world, you'll see.

I refuse to become a victim of my own cowardice. I will be me.

I'm ready for you, Summer!

I am honestly so stoked for summer that I cannot make a decent introduction about the playlist I'm about to put here. There's only a week to go then I'm free (albeit temporarily) from my academic and organization works. I can't wait to fill my free days with books, music, and photography! I think it's time for Ianne (my lomo cam) to come out again and let everyone look at how she sees the world. I plan to catch up with my reads too. Hee. If possible, I'd like to have a mini-adventure to celebrate the cheery atmosphere. Maybe a trip to Vigan or a day in BHS, yes?

Anyway (before I ramble again), here is this year's mix! Some are mainstream, some are not.

Brighter Than the Sun - Colbie Caillat
Summer Paradise - Simple Plan
Falling in Love in a Coffee Shop - Landon Pigg
They Lead Me to You - Joshua Radin
Thinking About You - David Choi
We Could Happen - AJ Rafael
All About Us - He is We ft. Owl City
Kiss Me Slowly - Parachute
Downtown - Lady Antebellum
22 - Taylor Swift (Not a Swift fan, but this song is just perfect for that summer mood!)
Locked Out of Heaven - Bruno Mars
Kiss You - One Direction (Same notice as Swift)
Still Into You - Paramore
Only You - Train
Be Your Everything - Boys Like Girls

On Dying

I have always figured that I will die young ever since I was in 5th grade. I did not choose to foresee my life that way but honestly, I cannot dream beyond the years. I cannot see myself growing old with a future husband, taking care of the kids, and having a successful career. My eyes only look at dreams and fantasy, not reality.

As my age increases, I feel like I'm walking closer towards death...and a life where there is no more pain and sorrow. I...am not afraid of dying. I am just so scared not living my life meaningfully. I am scared of leaving my loved ones. I am scared of not leaving even just a tiny mark in this world. Will they remember me? Will I remain in their hearts?

Dear readers, I don't have a death wish, okay? :) I just want you to know that while there are men who are like Voldemort, there are men who accept that every line, even the silver ones, has an end.

So while I am still alive and kicking, I resolve to wash away the negative emotions as quickly as possible and focus on the positive ones. Life is too short for one to resent, to get angry, to be sad, and not to love.

Hope is a tiny flower growing in my heart.

It has been a month and 5 days since we last talked, and quite honestly, I wish I could stop counting. It no longer feels like I am winning, rather, it feels like I'm still losing every time I raise my hands and point at my fingertips. Counting reminds me how I cannot completely move on from you. It makes me hate myself for being so pathetic. It takes me back to the heart of my decision, of my avoidance, and of my slowly-but-surely progress of forgetting you. 

Back then, I wanted you to feel the pain of losing someone, to experience  the gnawing suffering of liking someone who doesn't give a shit, and to really understand what I went through for you. I wanted you to miss me. I wanted you to want me, to be called 'the one that got away', and to be the best girl you never had. I wanted you to lose time in imagining the what-ifs. 

I wanted you to regret that you let me go. 

However, I realized that things have changed (again). This time, I want and need to forgive you and more importantly, to forgive myself. I realized that I can't wholly go on with my life if I keep on wishing for things that will never happen. I long to fully accept the fact that you will never miss me as much as I miss you, or even wonder about you and me. 

I still have a long way to go. Though I choose loneliness to keep me company for now, rest assure that one day, I will embrace happiness with open arms. One day, I won't dwell on counting the days anymore. One day, we'll meet again, and I will smile at you.  

Sonnet XVII by Pablo Neruda

I don't love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
I love you as certain dark things are loved,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that doesn't bloom and carries
hidden within itself the light of those flowers,
and thanks to your love, darkly in my body
lives the dense fragrance that rises from the earth.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you simply, without problems or pride:
I love you in this way because I don't know any other way of loving

but this, in which there is no I or you,
so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand,
so intimate that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close

--

Source: http://www.panhala.net/archive/sonnet_xvii.html

At peace.

2013 is proving to be a year of new beginnings for me. :)

To you, (yes, you) I'm sorry for all the absence and shit I said, but most of all, thanks for staying. As I said awhile ago, you are worth all the pain.