“There will be five junior analysts and ten programmers working under your direct supervision.”
- Mr. Dali a.k.a. kupal/manyak
(Norman Wilwayco’s Mondomanila)
My loneliness is killing me~
I hate it when it rains at night.
Sure, it’s comfortable but I’ve been depressed for five days already and I can’t take a look at the moon, and it feels like my emotions can predict the mood of the weather. It feels like I’m falling apart and tearing apart, like raindrops splitting on the ground.
Ang mga mata,
Na ika’y nasa aking tabi
At hagkan ako.
Damhin ang init
Ng iyong bisig,
Ng iyong pagpulupot,
Ng iyong pagtaklob
Sa aking hindi mahinahong damdamin.
Maghihintay na lamang,
Na ngayon naman
Sa aking pagtulog
Ay magkaroon ng magandang panaginip.
This weekend is full of the loneliness I’m very scared of.
Gaano pa katagal ang paghihintay?
Hindi naman tiyak kung kailan,
hindi tiyak ang kasiguraduhan,
hindi tiyak ang mga salitang nabitawan nang minsan.
Gaano pa katagal tayo’y aasa?
Hindi naman hawak ang kapalaran,
hindi rin alam ang siyang patutunguhan,
hindi rin alam ang siyang pinanghahawakan.
Gaano pa katagal ang paghihintay,
ang pag-aasang makamit ang ating ninanais,
ang pagkapit sa mga hindi naman katiyakan,
ang pagsusumamong sana’y ito na nga.
Ngunit kung ang kahahantunga’y hindi ninanais,
hindi lubos inaakala,
We are all remnants of that night.
You were the low glimmer of the flicking candlelight;
the shy shimmer of the little flame burning in the night.
I was the sliver of the broken bedside mirror;
the piece of silver patiently waiting beside your door.
Your flame burned brightly and at times in excesses.
I watched and watched as I conjure plausible excuses
of how to make you come to me;
of how to make you engulf me
Enflame me, my dear little light.
Consume me all through the night.
But you were in excesses and I was all excuses.
We are all remnants of that night.
I won’t sit on a bench alone and tell myself, “life has hollowed me.” Sometimes one could be ridiculous and overly dramatic in a depressing solitude just in time for viewing what could be the last sunset.
It’s a very long troubled ride that goes fast and slow, and sometimes we jump off bus stops and train stations in hopes of having time pause for a moment, just so we could breathe, relax, and have it all to ourselves. And when the ride gets too tough and heavy, we just want to jump off and end the damn ride. I’ve tried to jump off and end it several times, and I may still do even just a small degree. It’s difficult not to think of it especially when the burden’s too huge to handle and the people around you will just not help you, or just make you worse. They will never understand the pain I’m feeling, of how much I wanted to let go of myself and of how much I wanted to break free from all the strings that pull me in and pull me deep down. They’ll accuse me of being selfish, but hey, what’s the point anyway if I’m gone. I still keep thinking of jumping to the train tracks sometimes, and man, that’s an easy and instant way to die. Better do it in daylight to catch the last sunset, because the night scares me especially when the moon shows its mocking glow.
Yet I still live, I still hopped in buses and trains and chose to watch several sunsets more and immerse myself with the dark of the night. Sometimes I turn my head away from seeing the moon; sometimes I look it straight and yell “fuck you”and realize that, damn, I’m still too young for all this life shit. And sometimes, it’s very liberating not to care.
Sure, it’s a very long ride of mixed moments and troubling emotions and all. You may not choose what happens inside or where the tracks lead you, but you have the will to step out and breathe, do your own thing, live it.
Me? I’ll probably keep jumping off to bus stops and train stations and sit alone on a bench waiting for the sunset. I know life has emptied me, but I can always fill myself up with people and things I want and surely loved. Who cares. It’s my life anyway. Cheers to more sunsets.
I don’t know what’s with me; friends always go to me to ask for certain information. My mom always says that I’m probably an information center person since this has always been since I was in gradeschool.
Or I’m probably just too kind. I don’t know.
Migraine attacks and I still want my burger.
I hate home alone Friday nights. But I also dislike some housemates so this could probably be better than that.
But I’m craving for some expensive burger. And I’m broke, as usual.