Monday, March 7, 2016

What I wouldn't tell you

This is what I wouldn’t tell you: I hadn’t been replying to your messages, deliberately missing your calls, ditching your invitations to go out for coffee or yogurt--not because I was preoccupied with yoga, or work, or exercise, or whatever shitty excuse I could come up with. I simply didn’t want to. I had had enough of knowing everything about your life, and you knowing very little of mine. I was enough of being your soundboard, of everyone’s soundboard, really—and I guess you were the representation of that, just because you talked louder than everyone else, said a lot more about your life to me than everyone else did.

I guess I had the obvious revelation: everyone’s so self-absorbed. Talking about their plans and how great they’ve done, or how they’ve fucked up, or what they want to do. Everyone is so loud, saying what they will on social media, even if the issue really is of little concern to them. I mean, when was the last time anyone really cared about gay rights and meant it? Before shit hit the fan, when did anyone have an opinion they actually believed in, and not just because it was the trending topic?  

But you had known all the time, hadn’t you? You had known that I was somehow getting fed up; what you didn’t know was why, exactly. What you had done, and what was the turning point when I decided I was out.

Maybe I’m selfish as well, except that I am keenly aware of it? I have to admit. Those random nights (the number of which I could still count in one hand, and I deserve credit for that) was not so much to make new friends, but to allow them to form an opinion of me—how it is to be admired, to be liked, to be singled out of the crowd. I allow myself that, before I retreat to my room in the office, where hours of working until the late night stretch out before me. 

And this is where I drop that line: it’s not just you. It’s me. There are days when I am perfectly happy and content and ready, pleased even, to grind to work on my dreams. But there are days, such as this one, when I can’t help but ask myself: what are all these for, really? What are my dreams? What do I really want anyway? Who am I? I start thinking that I’m fine, the wounds have healed. And then I’ll revert to my old self and fuck up again, and not let anyone know. Because how do I even start? I was never the dramatic, revelatory type, and I’m not going to start now. I have managed all on my own. And I’m doing fine, really—I said to myself, and the thought becomes reality.

But the good part is that you will never know why, and you will never ask, because we don’t talk about these things. And I will just simply parachute myself at the forefront of your life, just exactly where I used to be a few weeks, months ago. And then we will talk again like nothing happened, like we were the best friends that we had been a few months ago.




Sunday, January 24, 2016

2016 Goals

I've always tried (and failed to live up to) New Year's resolutions.

But I wanted this year to be different. My boyfriend and I had a big fight about it: I told him I looked back at the year that was. And although it was exciting and turbulent (passed the bar, started my first "real" work, etc.), I couldn't help but feel stuck. That this--working late nights, stressing over deadlines, going to him on weekends--was all that lifev has to offer me now, and in the years to come. I could just vanish and nobody would notice, and I could be doing the same thing over and over again until I realize was 40 years old. I told him I was losing myself, my own sense of who I am.

I don't know, but I feel like 2016 should be an important year. This really is the first time I'm not held back by grades or academic requirements. Work is hard, but I am in total control of the direction of my career.

So I told myself, and I told my partner, that maybe I should try out the waters and find out what I really want. I have come up with a list and have been sticking to it so far. I also made sure to make it as precise and concrete as possible.

So just for the sake of putting it out there in the universe:

1. Do mindfulness meditation everyday.
2. Go to the gym/do yoga at least once a week.
3. Go out more often! (Drink with friends, play board games, go mountain hiking, go on trips together, etfc.)

I'm pretty sure my partner's a bit surprised/shocked at some of the changes he's been seeing, but it helps that he's secure and that he's allowing me to become my own person.

Anyway, just now, right after I finished my 17th day of meditation, I realized that maybe all that--working late nights, stressing over deadlines, and go to him on weekends--wasn't all that bad. Actually, it wasn't at all that bad.

Hey, that's gratitude. Maybe this meditation thing is starting to work after all.


Sunday, October 18, 2015

The Break I Needed


It's the end of the first week of my long-ish vacation in this beautiful country, and I've had quite some time to think about things.

No question that Sydney is one of the best places I've been to so far. Granted I haven't been to a lot, but it's definitely better than Hong Kong and Singapore in terms of convenience of transportation, (kind of) pleasant crowd, and a laid back vibe. It's much better than the urban craze of Manila, and I appreciate the parks, museums, and outdoor spots.

I've finally seen dinosaur bones, which is a HUGE deal for someone as obsessed to dinosaurs as I am. Makes you think about how awesome it is that one time dinosaurs used to live in the very terrain we now walk in...


The sunrise is lovely, and I can imagine myself being a morning person here:


I've seen enough though to make me think about the future and to silently map out what I plan to do, at least for the next two years. 

If only for that--for finally having a goal to work towards instead of just wasting my days away--I think this much needed trip is well worth the time.