And so there are times like now

It's totally dark outside and I still haven't taken a bath. I've been the usual me in a lazy day. No one to talk with, alone in this tall house and nowhere to go.

I was supposed to watch Watchmen with friends, but I changed my mind. Oh my, my energy must have flown somewhere away from this body. Lethargic is my favorite word at this moment.

Still, Jack Johnson is playing right now, filling this lonesome atmosphere with his cool rhythms. I'm at least a bit fortunate to have something like this to keep my sanity.

In times like this, a lot of things visit my thoughts. For one, my grandmother just passed away earlier today. My mom just told me so. My dad said last night my lola could no longer talk and only the daily antibiotics and oxygen kept her heart beating.

She was 93 years old; had gone much through life. I guess, it's enough span to let go of such opportunity. I just hope she had taken much experiences from her chance. Her parting has been accepted and prepared for by her children. They had let her go not only because they were financially incapable to maintain her medications (well, they're not really medications but apparatuses to get a grip of the little life she had been left with), but also because of the fact that she did not want to go on living anymore.

From this point, I reaffirmed the fact that everything, even life itself, is revolving around choices. Even staying alive is a choice.

I hadn't known my lola Maxing much. She spent all her time in her small lot in the countryside of North Cotabato. I got to see her only every summer vacations, and sometimes Christmas. The only thing I remember about her is her stout appearance, despite her short height, her long hair, calloused hands and muscled arms. And, when she spoke, she could utter some lines in straight English.

I don't know what she had been in her youth and what her dreams were aside from seeing her children have their own families. She had not been a popular person, or somebody who is excellent in academic field. I bet she never became a career woman. I'm even quite sure that she never even dreamed to live outside her little barrio, despite the sounds of bombs and gunshots in her sleep, or missing cows and carabaos at night.

I guess, her only goal in life was simple, as simple as she was...

Dying in the age of 93 is quite a challenge. I haven't thought of staying in this planet for that long. Not because I'm a cynic like I don't see any hope in this cruel and chaotic world that I hurry to get out from here. Notwithstanding scientific studies of why humans in modern times have short life expectancies, I wanted to die young because I don't want to be the one left whom the new generations would blame for the worst conditions in this world. I also don't want to see them suffer more than these people I see now.

I don't want to stay here for as long as 93 years. But, I don't want to die yet. I still want to see flowers blooming under a bright sunny day. I still want to climb mountains and listen to crickets at night. I still want to jump off from a waterfall and swim through the sea with lots of corals like in Pantukan.

I still want to see my own eyes or nose or smile on a special little human being. I still want to see myself, my child and the man who has my heart in a picture framed to be hung on the wall.

I still want to find happiness somewhere while I still get the chance to stay here. I just have to learn to accept that this chance to live is not quite a picnic, and so there are times like now.

I Wish I had a River

It's 11:48 PM, I still haven't washed up from a tiresome day of work. After watching "Road Home" with my room mate, I didn't do anything but listened to Sarah Mclachlan's songs. It's been more than a month since I really wrote something that speaks of my personal matters. It's been more than a month that I have forgotten my introspective character.

I think I have always been introspective. I just didn't have time to talk about it here. I don't know why I've become so impersonal with my self these past weeks. A lot of contradictions that bother my preoccupation lately. This must be because of my new disposition that until now I'm still struggling my way through adjustment, adjustment and adjustment...

I thought I pretty much knew why I'm here in this place where I don't have any kin. Friends and acquaintances are everywhere and I don't have any problem with them. But, I have nothing more than casual relationships. I'm not really sure if I really need someone to be intimate with, not necessarily physically, but emotionally and intellectually.

It's still different when you have someone whom you could talk about your thoughts -- simple or weird, your fears, dreams and joys. It's still different when you have someone who could listen when you talk, not just through chat nor text.

I'm really in a deep struggle right now, I admit it. It's next to the experience I had eight years ago when I tried another kind of life with the peasants in remote areas. That was the toughest one I got ever in my entire life. But, this time has a new blend of excitement and fear.

I guess this time should be easy for me because of my age. I know that I have aged enough to see the progress of my being, but the word "regression" sticks its head like a rabid dog at me. After eight years of living like ahead of my age, I find myself making up those ages I didn't live by accordingly (according to social norms).

By being alone, without my closest friends and without somebody special, I've been able to ask myself questions that I don't bother to entertain back home. Questions like: "What do I really want?" "What makes me happy?" "Have I been a good person?" "What is contentment for me or would I ever be contented?"

Brooding is such a bad word that won't help me in this situation. I hadn't done that though, just tonight. Just now over the music of Sarah Mclachlan...

Right now, I'd like to sing this song.

Hold on (Sarah Mclachlan)

Hold on to yourself
For this is gonna hurt like hell
Hold on
Hold on to yourself
You know that only time will tell
What is it in me that refuses to believe
This isn't easier than the real thing
My love
You know that you're my best friend
You know I'd do anything for you
My love
Let nothing come between us
My love for you is strong and true

Am I in heaven here or am i...
At the crossroads I am standing
So now you're sleeping peaceful
I lie awake and pray
That you'll be strong tomorrow and we'll
See another day and we will praise it
And love the light that brings a smile
Across your face

Oh God if you're out there won't you hear me
I know that we've never talked before
Oh God the man I love is leaving
Won't you take him when he comes to your door

Am I in heaven here or am I in hell
At the crossroads I am standing
So now you're sleeping peaceful
I lie awake and pray
That you'll be strong tomorrow and we'll
See another day and we will praise it
And love the light that brings a smile
Across your face...

Hold on
Hold on to yourself
For this is gonna hurt like hell


I just remember the statement: "You can't trust me if you don't trust yourself."

Despite all the loving that they gave me, I still drove them away. Why is it so? Why do I hurt those who love me? Why can't I love them the way they deserve? Sometimes, I feel like singing Joni Mitchell's "Cactus Tree"

Cactus Tree (Joni Mitchell)

Theres a man whos been out sailing
In a decade full of dreams
And he takes her to a schooner
And he treats her like a queen
Bearing beads from california
With their amber stones and green
He has called her from the harbor
He has kissed her with his freedom
He has heard her off to starboard
In the breaking and the breathing
Of the water weeds
While she was busy being free

Theres a man whos climbed a mountain
And hes calling out her name
And he hopes her heart can hear three thousand miles
He calls again
He can think her there beside him
He can miss her just the same
He has missed her in the forest
While he showed her all the flowers
And the branches sang the chorus
As he climbed the scaley towers
Of a forest tree
While she was somewhere being free

Theres a man whos sent a letter
And hes waiting for reply
He has asked her of her travels
Since the day they said goodbye
He writes wish you were beside me
We can make it if we try
He has seen her at the office
With her name on all his papers
Thru the sharing of the profits
He will find it hard to shake her
From his memory
And shes so busy being free

Theres a lady in the city
And she thinks she loves them all
Theres the one whos thinking of her
Theres the one who sometimes calls
Theres the one who writes her letters
With his facts and figures scrawl
She has brought them to her senses
They have laughed inside her laughter
Now she rallies her defenses
For she fears that one will ask her
For eternity
And shes so busy being free

Theres a man who sends her medals
He is bleeding from the war
Theres a jouster and a jester and a man who owns a store
Theres a drummer and a dreamer
And you know there may be more
She will love them when she sees them
They will lose her if they follow
And she only means to please them
And her heart is full and hollow
Like a cactus tree
While shes so busy being free

Here I go again with my old weak self... Impulsive, immature, romantic and indecisive. I don't want to blame all my experiences that made me be enmeshed in things, real things, tough things, which I guess have made my growth so unconventional. Maybe, my compunctions are brought by the contradiction between my unconventional thoughts and those dictated by social norms.




I will remember you (Sarah Mclachlan)


I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don't let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories

Remember the good times that we had?
I let them slip away from us when things got bad
How clearly I first saw you smilin' in the sun
Wanna feel your warmth upon me, I wanna be the one

I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don't let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories

I'm so tired but I can't sleep
Standin' on the edge of something much too deep
It's funny how we feel so much but we cannot say a word
We are screaming inside, but we can't be heard

But I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don't let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories

I'm so afraid to love you, but more afraid to loose
Clinging to a past that doesn't let me choose
Once there was a darkness, deep and endless night
You gave me everything you had, oh you gave me light

And I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don't let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories

And I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don't let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories
Weep not for the memories


One song really strikes me hard at this moment. It's a song that Joni Mitchell (also my favorite) originally wrote.


River (lyrics)

It's coming on Christmas
They're cutting down trees
They're putting up reindeer
And singing songs of joy and peace
Oh I wish I had a river
I could skate away on
But it don't snow here
It stays pretty green
I'm going to make a lot of money
Then I'm going to quit this crazy scene
I wish I had a river
I could skate away on
I wish I had a river so long
I would teach my feet to fly
Oh I wish I had a river
I could skate away on
I made my baby cry

He tried hard to help me
You know, he put me at ease
And he loved me so naughty
Made me weak in the knees
Oh I wish I had a river
I could skate away on
I'm so hard to handle
I'm selfish and I'm sad
Now I've gone and lost the best baby
That I ever had
Oh I wish I had a river
I could skate away on
I wish I had a river so long
I would teach my feet to fly
Oh I wish I had a river
I made my baby say goodbye

It's coming on Christmas
They're cutting down trees
They're putting up reindeer
And singing songs of joy and peace
I wish I had a river
I could skate away on

Instead of answering those questions I mentioned, I just keep on singing to myself "I wish I had a river so I could skate away on..."

I have just realized that this line actually shows my escapist character. Have I always been an escapist? Is my eagerness to live here is an eagerness to escape from where I came from? Is it an escape from regression? And, am I in progress right now? Or am I just regressing deeper?

The Night when I talked

Only the gasoline lamp in a used liquor bottle
Showed to the stars that we existed on that
Night, in the middle of the darkness at
the border of the hills and ocean...

Accompanied by the chanting of the waves
A few steps from our shabby kiosk
And the snoring of the damn tired fellow,
My voice of inebriation was the only evidence of life
amidst those "dead to the world"
in that small village of fisherfolk.

You listened intently
To my awkward story
of the quarrels and the beatings,
the circle around my eye turning
black from purple,
guilty and remorseful.

My jaws and your eardrums working
fighting against the cold breeze piercing
while you were meta-cognitively thinking
just to wet my lips of yearning
longing to salvage
from my cynical reasoning...

When we emptied the long bottle of rum and my smoking was done,
our bodies curled oppositely on both ends of the bench.
The warmth of your feet on mine was not enough
so inside my head I whined for you to just spare me your arms.

...and then I heard your breathing
that was the lullaby for my intermittent sleeping.

Mr. Tambourine Man (Bob Dylan)

There's nothing I can think of to write tonight... I've just been playing Bob Dylan's Mr. Tambourine Man four times now. I don't exactly know what's in this song that keep me listening to it and feeling some refuge from all the daily struggles I encounter. Well, I guess, it's the poetry in his lines that I succumb to.

So, here's the lyrics of the song:

Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.
Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
In the jingle jangle morning I'll come followin' you.

Though I know that evenin's empire has returned into sand,
Vanished from my hand,
Left me blindly here to stand but still not sleeping.
My weariness amazes me, I'm branded on my feet,
I have no one to meet
And the ancient empty street's too dead for dreaming.

Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.
Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
In the jingle jangle morning I'll come followin' you.

Take me on a trip upon your magic swirlin' ship,
My senses have been stripped, my hands can't feel to grip,
My toes too numb to step, wait only for my boot heels
To be wanderin'.
I'm ready to go anywhere, I'm ready for to fade
Into my own parade, cast your dancing spell my way,
I promise to go under it.

Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.
Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
In the jingle jangle morning I'll come followin' you.

Though you might hear laughin', spinnin', swingin' madly across the sun,
It's not aimed at anyone, it's just escapin' on the run
And but for the sky there are no fences facin'.
And if you hear vague traces of skippin' reels of rhyme
To your tambourine in time, it's just a ragged clown behind,
I wouldn't pay it any mind, it's just a shadow you're
Seein' that he's chasing.

Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.
Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
In the jingle jangle morning I'll come followin' you.

Then take me disappearin' through the smoke rings of my mind,
Down the foggy ruins of time, far past the frozen leaves,
The haunted, frightened trees, out to the windy beach,
Far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow.
Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free,
Silhouetted by the sea, circled by the circus sands,
With all memory and fate driven deep beneath the waves,
Let me forget about today until tomorrow.

Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.
Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
In the jingle jangle morning I'll come followin' you.

You can listen to its music here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kdWUqDyTnrI&feature=related

I'll just succumb to "Mr. Tambourine man" for awhile...

From the side of the window

I can see the gloomy afternoon sky.
My toenails are gray because of the coldness
Coming from somewhere
seeping through my veins telling me
something...

The air envelops me,
touching my skin like nobody
I'm nobody...
Nobody's...
Nothing but a piece of cold shit.

If this cold wind could dissolve
this melancholy
I'd like to be holy...

From this side of the window
Bring me somewhere
Not here.

"Stock Knowledge"

As far as I'm concerned, I had tried not to stain this page with anything about the politics in the Philippines. Unfortunately, because this page is the only outlet for my inconspicuous thoughts, I couldn't avoid to write something about what I encounter almost everyday since I work here.

Yesterday, I attended the hearing of the committee on constitutional amendments of the house of representatives on the house resolution 737 of Congressman Nograles which was approved by the votes of 11-4.

Victor Ortega, the committee chair, himself moved to cast their votes on the approval of the resolution despite the persistent manifestations of the minority group to conduct more public hearings. Representative of Anakpawis "Ka Paeng" mentioned that during the previous meeting there had been no invitation for the basic masses, especially the farmers, fisherfolks and laborers.

What really piqued me was the statement of somebody from the majority group about "stock knowledge". He said that no consultation could ever change their minds. He said, "We instinctively know what's good for our country."

Why not vote immediately upon reading any proposed house resolution if each representative knows what's good for the country--by instinct? I find this stupid and had just shown that he is a rabid sycophant for supporting this foul-founded resolution to change the charter.

Did he ever try living with the landless peasants or lived in the shanties of the fishermen? Had he been a laborer himself before getting such position called "representative"? Who is he representing when he voted for the approval of the foreigners' hundred percent ownership of our natural resources? This question goes to the eleven of them and the Chairman who did not want to have more public hearings.

Where should such stock knowledge come from? Definitely, it's not from his mother's womb.

The voting happened like a wisp just when three other representatives timely arrived (better late than absent). They had actually increased the gap of the votes between the affirmative and negative sides.

Sigh. Another victory smile must have been cast on Mrs. Alligator's face.

Escape

It's been two weeks since I arrived in the place where most Davaoenos think is the busiest, filthiest, and most controversial place in the Philippines – Metro Manila. I'm not here to challenge their descriptions though.

Why am I here by the way? My best friend said "to escape". Well, that had preoccupied me for awhile.

I left a few things in my hometown but I don't intend to get away from those. However, from a different point of view, my abrupt acceptance of the proposal to work here had something to do about escaping.

My previous job paid higher and I got to travel more than twice in a week. I could meet a lot of people, especially those we call 'basic masses' and listen to the stories of their lives. But, I might have wanted to escape from the 'uncomfortable' relationships with my co-workers. Personal relationships with them are not really a big deal for me as long as we're able to complete our tasks as a team. But, I guess, because of a certain matter that might stir my consciousness, the pressure to get out convinced me to take a risk of living by myself here.

I might be escaping from the comfort of my home and family that made me lax in my daily endeavors. Getting up so late in the morning and not doing the household chores are the things I can do best. And, because of such privileges, I had cradled procrastination.

I might be escaping from the old me – the happy-go-lucky bitch who spent a lot of money on beer, drank all night and even until five a.m, and got anxious about the future but didn't have definite goals.

I might be escaping from boredom – traveling around the same routes, and doing the same things on the same days.

I might be escaping from the feeling of "living in a small world" – afraid of meeting my ex-boyfriends somewhere for whatever reason.

And the worst of all, I might be escaping from my boyfriend. (This is actually what my best friend thought.) We just had our first monthsary before I left. He felt, at first, that I really didn't think about our relationship when I made up my mind. I didn't consult him actually. I blurted out the news right after I said yes. He might have been expecting this, I guess. But, I just realized lately that what I did might be cruel for him.

But, why would I escape from him anyway? I tried to answer these questions if in case I unconsciously really want to escape from him, from our relationship. Maybe, I thought that our relationship would not work because of our differences. Our different political beliefs, ideologies, and interests may be serious factors that will naturally tear us apart. Maybe, procrastination in both of us will eventually burn out our enthusiasm, and we'll end up achieving nothing at all. Maybe, his passiveness in some issues or that his "not caring at all" will just turn my eyes to someone who does care. Maybe, I just want to escape to see if he finds me; if he changes his mind and be with me; if he remains faithful.

Yes, it is an escape, but not from anyone or anything. It's an escape from procrastination. I wanted to try different things to see the different side of me – bring out the better of me...

My best friend said she knows me. She sees me as an escapist person. I'd like to agree with her but only in this particular moment of my life. I wanted to overcome my fear of the unknown and learn more about life.

Challenging destiny? No. It's called “living in its truest sense”.