`DAMN 2019~
“Don’t fix the broken, you’ll end up the same way.”
“I’m not fixing you. I actually like you, the way you are.”
Guess what! I have been on both spectra. At times, I wasn’t sure whether I said that or I was the one who replied.
Being single this year has placed me in passiveness, but that doesn’t mean I never became active. I tried. I surely tried. I partly regret some people for I neglected them, or they neglected me that’s why I regret them now. It’s shameful to admit that either is almost always the case.
This is the third year-ender entry since the inception of this blog and it is getting more personal.
Just a disclaimer.
My head aches. Last year I wrote about heartaches and asked ‘who has a heart that doesn’t ache?’ I guess our heads are no better bearer. What’s worse - being emotionally bruised or physically scarred? I realized pain is still compared even the agony is shared. My head aches and my eyes have no tears to shed. Don’t make me count the frequency of my aching and despair for I know I silenced my own breaking down so I wouldn’t be heard by my roommate.
Knowing that only a wall divides our space has suppressed my emotions. I don’t blame the wall nor my roommates. I blame the barriers that prevent me. I blame the distance that surrounds me. I blame every indecision, every bad morning, every skipped meal, every failed presentation, and every wasted chance to do anything worthwhile.
But I hoped. I hoped and wished that the next day is another attempt to keep going. I know I can, but will I? Questions linger. I don’t overthink anymore; I don’t even dream at night, or at least I don’t remember dreaming anything. I over sleep. I eat less. Not my determination, I pretend.
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| Calligraphy by @hrq_angel, February 2017 |
Broke and Broken
What’s the difference? If I am both, then that makes me what? I have managed financially; I cannot say the same if I did well with myself. It is the end of the year and I am infecting you with depressing thoughts. Do continue as you wish. Your call.
I like talking to you, even I don’t know who are reading this. But I know someone does and will. I wonder how you see me, how I appear to be in these texts that you just read. I can only guess, yes, and only indulge myself with the guesses I made myself to believe.
This is supposed to be composed of life lessons and evaluations of my year. Despite the low spirited introduction, I am still capable of enjoying life (if I can call it). What did I learn?
Understanding is not singular. It shouldn’t be.
There must be a plurality of perspectives, not only the ones that you’re accustomed to. Be open but keep your principles. I am talking vague and generic, but the idea of willingness to learn and to impart shall be considered for growth. I learned new things as I unlearned the old ones. It is scary. Believe me when I say that it wasn’t easy. Not only did it break my beliefs, but it also created new ones.
People are risks to take.
I’m almost a two-decade living person and realized the fact that everyone serves their interests, both selfless and selfish. Meeting people, different, old and new every time, is a challenge to deal with regularly – a challenge to provide and satisfy, or to counter and inhibit. By risks I mean the calculated and unforeseen effects of ‘being’ with people. Attending a new class introduces you to a new sphere. Hanging out with old friends brings you back old memories. New things are always a risk, so are old memories – aren’t they?
Yet we take them. Almost always.
And my confidante says, it’s true and sometimes ‘others don’t even work’. My best friends were my brothers; they still are. We don’t talk as much but when we see each other, the night is never enough. I miss my first love; she just called me by her endearment and I lost it. I bombard my young friend because I haven’t moved on. We aren’t talking anymore. My high school crush just graduated and is now working; I help her with places as she does too.
Indeed, love can be platonic, friends even more romantic. Relationships are not black and white. Not one kind is universal, only its essence – the connection.
How did my year go? I recorded myself when I checked in for the semester this sophomore year, just a video of me talking. I planned to do it every night, an oral journal, but the first seems to be the last, at least for this year. I’m supposed to be sad. I was – for not being able to do what I say or think. Actions or the lack thereof defeat the purpose. Inactivity can take away your sanity. What kind of crazy is that? There are times I’d realize I haven’t talked much for the day; I only actually did when buying my food. I think that’s the only time I talked, not to mention my intrapersonal communication, cinematic visions, and imagined dramatic scenes and lines.
Year-end retrospection has been a thing. I guess social platforms only allowed us more to communicate our reflections – both rewarding and disappointing, in generic ways that attract sadness and motivation. Whichever the case, it is the personal, the selfish, and the honest discretion of desires that depresses people, represses but frees them. The year is about to come when 2010 is already 10 years ago. I was 10, free of depressing experiences, but if I remember I was already repressed. 2019 altered that. Life gets depressing while I fight the repression society and I have set. What a cruel thing – to imprison yourself as life breaks you. Bit by bit, I’ll be in pieces; and year by year, I’ll manage fixing. Always almost.
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Relationships work differently.
And my confidante says, it’s true and sometimes ‘others don’t even work’. My best friends were my brothers; they still are. We don’t talk as much but when we see each other, the night is never enough. I miss my first love; she just called me by her endearment and I lost it. I bombard my young friend because I haven’t moved on. We aren’t talking anymore. My high school crush just graduated and is now working; I help her with places as she does too.
Indeed, love can be platonic, friends even more romantic. Relationships are not black and white. Not one kind is universal, only its essence – the connection.
How did my year go? I recorded myself when I checked in for the semester this sophomore year, just a video of me talking. I planned to do it every night, an oral journal, but the first seems to be the last, at least for this year. I’m supposed to be sad. I was – for not being able to do what I say or think. Actions or the lack thereof defeat the purpose. Inactivity can take away your sanity. What kind of crazy is that? There are times I’d realize I haven’t talked much for the day; I only actually did when buying my food. I think that’s the only time I talked, not to mention my intrapersonal communication, cinematic visions, and imagined dramatic scenes and lines.
Year-end retrospection has been a thing. I guess social platforms only allowed us more to communicate our reflections – both rewarding and disappointing, in generic ways that attract sadness and motivation. Whichever the case, it is the personal, the selfish, and the honest discretion of desires that depresses people, represses but frees them. The year is about to come when 2010 is already 10 years ago. I was 10, free of depressing experiences, but if I remember I was already repressed. 2019 altered that. Life gets depressing while I fight the repression society and I have set. What a cruel thing – to imprison yourself as life breaks you. Bit by bit, I’ll be in pieces; and year by year, I’ll manage fixing. Always almost.
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| Image by Jeff Jacobs from Pixabay |
Here are my previous takes:
`Damn 2018~
`Damn 2017~
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Magbabalik na ako sa Twitter, gaiz! @tbwhostutters
At magbubukas ako ng bagong film blog at page – SineSalita! (You learned it first here! Let’s talk about films, ano po?) Details next year!
Maraming Salamat, stutterers!
Heto ang highlights ng blog na ‘to ngayong taon:
IN FILMS:
A Movie Review: Sila-Sila (2019)
Emerging Filipino Indie Genre in the Philippine National Cinema
(I am) #JOWABLE! (2019): A Film Review
Breaking the Gold: The Golden Years of Philippine Cinema
IN LITERATURE
Nawawalang Panulat (tula)
Para Sa Mga Takot Magsulat, (liham)
The Historical Origin and Cultural Implications of Bañamos Festival of Los Baños, Laguna (research paper)
Juancho (poem)
Dugo at Tubig (maikling kwento)
IN PERSONAL
INTERNATIONAL STUTTERING AWARENESS DAY
My Favorite Niccolo Machiavelli's Quote, The Prince
One Year at Film School
Whatever Helps You Sleep at Night
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