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Friday, March 23, 2007

twisted fairytale

HANSEL AND GRETEL: Trapped by sweets
This is not the first, nor I think, the second. Ilan pa ba? Ilang milyon? Ilang taon? Ilang sulat? Ilang pagtatanong?...Maybe I’m just sick. OR maybe I’ve just grown sick waiting for something which nobody but those dratty pocketbooks and almost every other film (because everything is actually a love story) has just led me to believe would one day eventually come. I do not doubt its reality. I’ve seen and felt it and known it in a lot of ways already. And I do believe that LOVE is the only reason why we are all still capable of putting up a good fight in the midst of every damning “challenge” that this “boring” hell of a life is often “throwing” our way. It is also obviously one of the biggest reasons (aside from poverty and excesses in hormones) why in spite of mass murders and massacres and calamities all over the world, and hence the population reduction, we still surge in numbers, by the millions, everyday. BUT LOVE FINDING ME? I’d rather believe in fairy tales….

I am hanging on to my faith by the mere threads. I guess I’m just tired of being lonely, no matter how loved and pampered an individual I actually am. I guess I should feel guilty because to love and to be loved, the way that I am experiencing it right now and how I have experienced it so far, is not and never could be enough for me. If it is, then why do I still feel so lost? How come that the feeling of missing something is compounded just about every day? And yet there is no hope for a certainty of some kind; that indeed something that would fill that missing part would show up one day soon. This is not mere impatience. This is depression – one of the worst kinds.

LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD: Betrayed by the Big Bad Wolf

I believe I have lost my faith in a lot of things. I do not know if some things which happened in the past are responsible for this (I am growing suspicious that it is) but it is just now that I have come to realize just how much I have changed ever since I ventured out of my own little box and shared my life and my heart and first knew love through my friends…. my dear, dearly beloved FRIENDS. I realize now that two years is the most length of time that I expect someone to be with me. I also just realized that I still have the idealism but not the faith to expect people to stick by me through days of rain and plain boredom. In fact, I seemed to have let go of so much of my expectations that I personally am suspicious if I still really care that much at all. I might have grown too independent for my own good that I no longer feel the need to be close to anyone in order to feel sufficient. It is actually true to a certain extent. I’d rather have no one than to endure the company of someone I couldn’t even share a decent 5-minute conversation. I am more than capable of amusing myself. The positive side about this is that people, if they are those who could understand and perceive such things, are almost always sure than when I seem to be enjoying their company, I genuinely find them interesting. The scary thing about this is that, I am more in danger of really ending up painfully lonely because of my tendency to always be on my own. And things can even get worse…. Like the fact that the biggest thing that I have gained from self-awareness is a big dose of cynicism. This is often made worse by the fact that my friends, no matter how much they love me and I them, often acts as living examples of the “crimes that lead to disillusionment and then unbelief”.

CINDERELLA: Dashed illusions
Lately I’ve been experiencing these strange moments – one moment I was completely normally and complacently “happy”, and the next thing I know, I’ve just been made to feel (for the most fleeting of seconds) all the pain and bitterness that I have sworn to just leave to the “dungeons” of a former life. It is why I’ve been ranting about summer rains lately, they share very similar characteristics. It comes and goes without warning, leaving only an aching head and soon enough, a nasty cold in its wake. It often leaves me quite breathless, often being caught as unaware as I was and in the most public of places, and often almost choking on unshed tears.

I still could not cry although I do that often. I never yet had the privilege to cry my heart out. My sense of self-preservation is too much, my defenses too strong whenever I’m around the “common tao.” I guess I should be finding a way to contact a superhero.

I’m not sure if I want to “fall in love” anymore. I’m dead scared that I am not among those destined to have that one life-changing passion. If I can’t have that, I’d rather not have anything. I never did enjoy my coffee cold unless it’s really granita or iced coffee. I am never the one to be glad with something na “puwede na.” Besides I’m not really sure if I can be sure that if I did feel something of that sort for someone, it will be the real thing. How in the world can I know that it isn’t something that I just imagined out of sheer desperation? I might as well kiss a frog, even if only to prove that noble and charming Princes aren’t ever for real.


My brother sent me a couple of SMS the other night. The first one says, “It’s never the tears that measure the pain. Often, it’s the smiles we fake.” The other one went like this: “I love to sleep… It’s the only time I float in nothingness… No sadness to consume me. No happiness to overwhelm me. No fears to overcome. No norms to conform to. A place where TIME is but a CONCEPT, REALITY is BENT, and FATE is just waiting to happen. … A place where everything is twisted, and I’m Ok with that…..” How tragic, and yet, how wise! And how very ME….
kaigachi is a conjugation of the Japanese term "kigaicha" or crazy. It roughly translates as "crazy about something."

"One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light but by making the darkness conscious." - C.Jung

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