tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50116970308500686112024-03-05T20:11:50.915+08:00Legally Stressed, And All That ShitHi. I'm gay, and I'm a lawyer. I'm also many things in between.Arwind Verahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10775140746860359161noreply@blogger.comBlogger101125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011697030850068611.post-35173549694540452152018-03-14T15:45:00.002+08:002018-03-14T15:45:44.585+08:00AUIn my previous blog entry, I detailed my distress over a life-changing event in my life.<br />
<br />
I applied for a scholarship to study Masters of Law in Australia. And after going through the screening process, I'm happy to say that I got in. Yay! The process had been harder than I let on, and my partner and my best friend alone know just what I had to do to get the scholarship, and to fight for the school of my choice. I am somewhat in limbo now--the next part, which is the pre-counseling stage, won't be until mid-April, but I can definitely breathe a little easier now.<br />
<br />
I guess fate, destiny, the powers that be, even God, really have interesting ways of making things happen. I remember vaguely wishing to study LLM a few years back, but I then knew my financial obligations would hold me back, as well as the huge financial costs that studying and living abroad for one year would entail. But here I am, right where everything should be.<br />
<br />
Am I ready? Maybe not. I am not as scholarsly as I want to be, though a lot of people would probably think otherwise. On any day, I would readily choose playing video games over reading a non-fiction legal reading for leisure. And trust me, the best of them would do otherwise. <br />
<br />
Of course, being anxiety-ridden as I am, there are a million things running through my mind about how this can go wrong. What I am learning now is to let go, enjoy, and allow things to unfold.<br />
<br />
--<br />
<br />
On the subject of letting go: I find it extremely difficult not to post my two cents on the distressing events happening in the country. If you told me a decade ago (where I was already a UP student) that these would happen, I would've freaked. I have to give it to our politicians--they manage to find new ways to fuck up the country. And worse, a vast majority of the population seem fine with it. Sad.<br />
<br />
Okay. So I keep thinking: what can <i>I </i>do from the high horse where I am perched on?<br />
<br />
Did you know that birth pills was not invented until the 1950s? That's just more than half a century ago. Before then, having hetero sex meant having a fat chance of producing a baby. Unless of course, the men withdrew--and how effective is that, really?<br />
<br />
The invention of birth pills caused a huge boom in sexual liberation. Again, that's just some decades ago, in the millennia that we've been on earth.<br />
<br />
I guess that's my way of thinking that--we will all die, and none of this will matter. The politicians can all have their day, but they will do. And then all their efforts at exerting their power will be for naught, leaving a legacy that will haunt their descendants forever.<br />
<br />
So maybe that's not a direct way of contributing a solution to the problem, but it does help me feel a little better.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Arwind Verahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10775140746860359161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011697030850068611.post-1814178923548177662018-02-23T14:05:00.001+08:002018-02-23T14:05:10.140+08:00 Next weekA lot is riding on a decision that will be made by next week. It's not even mine to make, but the impact that it will have in my life... man, where do I begin?<br />
<br />
I know that there is no way I will allow myself to spend that much money on graduate studies abroad, for a degree that does not even have a real significant impact on my career. But you know how things just make sense, even if you cannot fully rationalize it? This is one of those things... that I know I <i> have </i>to do. And what I will be doing <i>there </i>matters as much as what I will be doing once I get back here. A chance to finally, <i>really</i> start a career, get the ball rolling, and have a fresh start.<br />
<br />
I hope God is hearing this, because I could really use an answered prayer right now.Arwind Verahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10775140746860359161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011697030850068611.post-22830889746700575792017-12-31T15:06:00.000+08:002017-12-31T15:06:04.404+08:002017Sure, 2017 wasn't a good year for politics. And, by necessary extension, my Facebook feed. I can't say that I liked seeing comments from people supporting this admin's dick moves. But I decided at some point to just zone out. I hate to say it, but <i>we had it coming</i>. We got the government most of us (probably) deserved.<br />
<br />
All that aside, 2017 was, admittedly, a good year for me:<br />
<br />
<ol>
<li>I started teaching in another university, where (some) students seem genuinely interested in learning. Plus I teach weekdays, so that means...<br /></li>
<li>I have my Saturdays back. I can't believe I used to take my Saturdays for granted! I used to work 9-6 on Saturdays, teaching the entire day. I'd go home exhausted and unable to do anything else for the entire day. Consuming my entire Saturdays and getting them back made me realize the value of my weekends, and what I spend my free time on.<br /></li>
<li>I regained my 20-20 vision. I'd been thinking about getting LASIK for a while now. I didn't realize that I would make that huge decision one random morning in the office, and then get carted to the operating room a few days after. The procedure itself was quick, it was the aftershock for a day or two that rendered me immobile. Would I do it all over again? Totally.<br /></li>
<li>I got into mindfulness meditation. There is a lot of hype around the concept, and how it's a millennial gimmick. But the long and short of it is that (I think) it works. I am a relatively more<br />patient and reflective person because of it.<br /></li>
<li>I bought myself a Nintendo Switch! I used to play video games like crazy. I don't know when I will find the time to do this with my crazy schedule, but it's a welcome respite.<br /></li>
<li>I travelled a few places here and there. They're mostly local, but I've done things I didn't think I would be able to do. Be on top of a hundred-meter cliff? Check. Ride a 'monster jeep' to see the most amazing body of water? Check.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://gm1.ggpht.com/h4MWU49XEESNPvolmJPV8AWfhQeXlNhHQrZwATr9dA-DGywxEEAUqmnQa_zUPdgKx92e_huZZ-hem5rPS3GOzyRD0-Sy7izzwE8XjSn3SS5Bo3W902ygz9USMaczw1TfAXie5uaH7TmtyGMSGIw-r30FoJHup-1lrEqTBFRCCtUA4dP-sdG0t3nU64gQMO8z8f0fMN0AcSpUwMf2OpJSkX2cvSsgHN_5yl6-4CRP8WYteZT13_oo6-piUpIUVXgsP4tbljUBf5L0FjwYE9BSMnOGGFKHPMAG3mGvcNovNwtb9YDMVqkm2M9P2QeC7ramrpIcjgUKoT9z5P1nvK0JnPym2mBbjmXB8-tccktZCAu_jld6mFw4_ASETZufh0LRX02uOVOJtmN5CUCLQUGKHCQ701LLGuNPT-Egm-WmOn7sfeWdXW8epNN-6Z49bP6_bupCvs3D3wfqXB5yVUi1dQpCFb1E9mAG0D3l0lf8_0sZ-DCPwEvUx6jAHFlDRONiByrRXFRe5rwh16jrQzl6KcZpDVfL8Y0NDazrBk2uE_7sxkamgsYlTp1lMVFGUPjHahElYhZh3giAKAsvoRXhEaFID-uUySMiWqezMKdAnZU3Lgj0ww9i5JyLkA5P2O9Z9ffODzjsngfi1sk4ZpPI-v9IBZfxYfu7JcQ3Y8jkaAGK9KSKWq8TA5M7HJc=s0-l75-ft-l75-ft" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://gm1.ggpht.com/h4MWU49XEESNPvolmJPV8AWfhQeXlNhHQrZwATr9dA-DGywxEEAUqmnQa_zUPdgKx92e_huZZ-hem5rPS3GOzyRD0-Sy7izzwE8XjSn3SS5Bo3W902ygz9USMaczw1TfAXie5uaH7TmtyGMSGIw-r30FoJHup-1lrEqTBFRCCtUA4dP-sdG0t3nU64gQMO8z8f0fMN0AcSpUwMf2OpJSkX2cvSsgHN_5yl6-4CRP8WYteZT13_oo6-piUpIUVXgsP4tbljUBf5L0FjwYE9BSMnOGGFKHPMAG3mGvcNovNwtb9YDMVqkm2M9P2QeC7ramrpIcjgUKoT9z5P1nvK0JnPym2mBbjmXB8-tccktZCAu_jld6mFw4_ASETZufh0LRX02uOVOJtmN5CUCLQUGKHCQ701LLGuNPT-Egm-WmOn7sfeWdXW8epNN-6Z49bP6_bupCvs3D3wfqXB5yVUi1dQpCFb1E9mAG0D3l0lf8_0sZ-DCPwEvUx6jAHFlDRONiByrRXFRe5rwh16jrQzl6KcZpDVfL8Y0NDazrBk2uE_7sxkamgsYlTp1lMVFGUPjHahElYhZh3giAKAsvoRXhEaFID-uUySMiWqezMKdAnZU3Lgj0ww9i5JyLkA5P2O9Z9ffODzjsngfi1sk4ZpPI-v9IBZfxYfu7JcQ3Y8jkaAGK9KSKWq8TA5M7HJc=s0-l75-ft-l75-ft" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;"> I swear, this is a hundred feet above ground level! </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<ol></ol>
<br /></li>
<li>And I did the above with the most amazing guy. I know I told myself to date less in 2017. And I did. Little did I know that my resolve would lead me to someone who has been right there all along. My ex, seven or so years ago, who also happens to be a casual hangout buddy when I'd go out to party, ended up being my boyfriend more than six months ago. I never saw myself getting back with an ex, and I guess I just ate my words. It just...clicks. And I know because I've been through the entire online dating thing, drifting past one date to another, and nothing really worked out for me. Turns out, I only had to look back, to see what lies ahead. </li>
</ol>
<div>
2017, great as it is, feels like a pass-through to something. I don't know what the destination is just yet, but I'm keenly optimistic. Phew. <i>Optimism. </i>That's one word I didn't think I'd use to describe me. </div>
Arwind Verahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10775140746860359161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011697030850068611.post-48849702863956872292017-11-19T20:22:00.001+08:002017-11-19T20:22:52.329+08:00Call Me By Your Name<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I am not going to lie: going into the film, I had pretty high expectations. The buzz for the film has been crazy, and that is what ultimately made me decide to pick up the book and try to understand what the frenzy is all about. Also, I <i>love </i>gay romance in movies and literature, so I made sure to find the time to read this.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
And <i>Call Me By Your Name </i>(the book) did live up to the hype. It was, for me, well-written, nuanced, and characteristic of the flood of emotions and confusion encountered by young guys trying to reconcile their gender preferences. I should know, I went through that phase--and the book captured the emotions <i>just so well</i>. I am a sucker for good endings, and I'd like to believe the ambiguous ending in the book meant that Oliver and Elio somehow found their happy ending. Okay, I suppose this is <i>not </i>that much of a spoiler. I struggle to think of at least three gay movies/stories that had a "happy" ending.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
As I mentioned, I was looking forward to watching the film, considering all the hype. It had all but two screenings here in the Philippines, as far as I know, and I managed to reserve two tickets for me and my boyfriend in the far mall of the north, Trinoma.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.tynesidecinema.co.uk/storage/app/uploads/public/59e/efe/a19/59eefea19de1e475546385.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="800" height="180" src="https://www.tynesidecinema.co.uk/storage/app/uploads/public/59e/efe/a19/59eefea19de1e475546385.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo taken from https://www.tynesidecinema.co.uk/</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Before anything else, I have to say: the crowd was crazy! Haha. If I didn't know any better, I'd think the crowd (who lined up for the film, stretching out for meters on end). There were familiar faces in the crowd, mostly gay guys I'd seen partying in either O Bar and Unit 27.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Okay. At this point I'm exhausted to even write about the film. But just to lay out the points there:</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<ul>
<li>I think the film did a disservice to the book by not including what for me is a major plot point.</li>
<li> Timothée Chalamet did justice to the role of Elio. Armie Hammer, who played Oliver, was missing something... Which is a shame 'cos I found Oliver attractive in the book.</li>
<li>Overall, a good film. Although I'll be one of those pricks who think the book is much better than movie.</li>
</ul>
Arwind Verahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10775140746860359161noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011697030850068611.post-29006778994831007702017-11-17T21:48:00.002+08:002017-11-17T21:48:28.459+08:00On Neutralizing Negative Self-TaskSometimes I get swarmed by so many negative thoughts. I blame the weight of my ambition for discontentment. I see, on social media, so many of my batch mates who did not do as well as I arguably did (lol) getting into good graduate schools, like Harvard Law School or Columbia Law School for masters of law. And I admit: whenever I read something about it from them, I feel a bit of a pinch.<br />
<br />
And it's the unhealthiest pastime, I know. Because there will always be someone better. I know it. Someone who's smarter, someone who's paid better, someone who seems like he's gotten life figured out. At 27, I guess I am still not that good at learning how to fight my own battles. I have so many aspirations, but I should not begrudge anyone who look like they've reached theirs. That is not my business.<br />
<br />
Also, at the same time, I feel like I am not prepared just yet. I am not as well read as I think I should be. My analytical skills are not sophisticated enough. I am just not <i>that </i>good. But I know, I will never be really <i>ready </i>ready. And what I really have to do is to just go for it, and soak in all the knowledge I can while I am not there yet. I know that it's in the everyday that I get to prepare.<br />
<br />
I read somewhere that one of the signs of a high EQ is the ability to stop negative self-talk in its tracks.<br />
<br />
Well, that's definitely one area of self-improvement I have to work on.<br />
<br />
--<br />
<br />
I mean, when I really think about it, I am in a better position than I thought I would be. I have an above-average paying job. I am able to impart knowledge to my students. Regardless of my relatively murky past, and my frequent inattention to detail, I am doing relatively well. I should be grateful. And I am. Being grateful is one way of being happy, I also heard. I guess that's how I've tried to offset my negativity: reminding myself that there is so much to be happy and grateful for.Arwind Verahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10775140746860359161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011697030850068611.post-13104429726280517222017-11-13T20:52:00.001+08:002017-11-13T20:53:32.717+08:00Theft By FindingOne of my favorite writers, David Sedaris, recently published his diaries dating back from the 1970s. He published his journals from when he was in his early 20s. I'm now reading his journals from when he was 26, I think.<div><br></div><div>I've little time to read books or articles outside work these days, and even less time to write senseless stuff. My time is occupied by my two jobs, teaching and lawyering, which I'd always planned on doing, as I mentioned in the blog.</div><div><br></div><div>Whenever I read back to my earlier blogs, I almost cannot recognize myself, and even the writing style. I guess that's both a good thing and a bad thing.</div><div><br></div><div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Anyway, reading David's book made me realize I should probably write more. The only reason why I don't is that I feel I don't have enough dramatic or funny material to pull me out of my blogging hiatus.</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">But I'll try to change that? </span></div></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Like today: today is a holiday but I did not date with my partner, work out, or do anything remarkable outside of eating by myself, in this restaurant, which gives me free rein to do what I want. Including taking this photo:</span></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><img id="id_e81b_c6e0_d115_7bc4" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioy9HIQzw5x1CDpW1tqnD1SLPhfMzMe1lslla71kS3OxHLFUDWbeyso6VRujoAU_ttUSnDqpl8IF426nueUr4QQYly55xX0NGP5gSkaKsDWfPCdFPaAQKS6XNtO4D6WbgeaiKLedw4oLE/s5000/%255BUNSET%255D" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 306px; height: auto;"><br></div><div><br></div><div>So for now, I eat.</div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div>Arwind Verahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10775140746860359161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011697030850068611.post-69154331172966533922017-05-30T17:04:00.000+08:002017-05-30T17:06:32.662+08:00RecyclingWhen my newfound friends found out I am dating someone I used to be with for about eight-nine months roughly eight years ago (yes, even before this blog started), they were rightfully confused. Even <i>I </i>was confused.<br />
<br />
I mean, whenever i would recall my past breakups, the breakup with <i>this </i>guy was the one I regretted the least. I mean, he was not the kindest person back then. That's what I'd thought to myself, at least. But I remember loving him dearly, with all the heart my eighteen-year-old self could possibly give.<br />
<br />
And then the pieces of the puzzle started coming together. He moved to the South for me when we were together. I couldn't catch a ride back home, and was in the middle of Pasay, and I remember him being so worried about me. And all those little things. I was crazy about him.<br />
<br />
Until I was not. Stuff happened, and I fell out of love in a snap. Ours was the stuff of love stories in college. I loved him, then I hated him for hating on my best friend. But that love felt real.<br />
<br />
Fast forward to today, where I spend my weekends overnight with him, huddled in bed, and where I meet his friends occasionally, and where I go to church with him. And all of it, all of this, brings me back to that time when I truly felt genuine care for someone.<br />
<br />
I have to admit, it feels good. After more than a year of being single and dating around, and failing to develop feelings that ripen into love, it does feel strange to worry about and want the best for someone again.<br />
<br />
It feels good, and it feels dangerous.<br />
<br />
What if this does not work out? What if I end up hurting? What if I am into him more than he is into me? All these questions stir up weird insecurities I thought I had gotten over with. And i often have to slap myself back to reality.<br />
<br />
And tell myself: you're alright. And if it this does not work out, then at least you felt felt love--or something that approximates it--again.<br />
<br />
Maybe it will work out, maybe it won't. I guess I'll have to see.Arwind Verahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10775140746860359161noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011697030850068611.post-63397493606595346102017-01-01T07:35:00.001+08:002017-01-01T07:35:55.032+08:002016<div style="text-align: center; padding: 5px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1cN6edPl85SHJep9zMUs1v4ZmmaiWocnXQ3pq4Gs7gnFGv4iiig9SWLTUIua_fypcER41O1VvGGlkIn1j1aTw2eLVCRv1NIS8Lg9NqzoyIMv1FSpb2qkmm-HXtb3U2OG9XrC7cHspHxw/"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1cN6edPl85SHJep9zMUs1v4ZmmaiWocnXQ3pq4Gs7gnFGv4iiig9SWLTUIua_fypcER41O1VvGGlkIn1j1aTw2eLVCRv1NIS8Lg9NqzoyIMv1FSpb2qkmm-HXtb3U2OG9XrC7cHspHxw/ cursor: pointer;" width="320px" style="border: 1px solid; border-radius: 2px;padding: 5px; max-width: 320px " /></a></div><div class="blogaway-section"><p>I'm grateful for 2016. I wouldn't call it a bad year--neither is it a fantastic year. But I've definitely gone way out of my comfort zone than I initially set out at the start of the year.<br/>
<br/>In retrospect, I'm quite glad I've managed to keep most of my resolutions. I started working out in the gym regularly. I meditate more or less regularly. And I did go out more often. A little too often, if you ask me. Haha.<br/>
<br/>Also in 2016: I broke up with the person I had been in a longest relationship with. A little less than two and a half years. Who would've thought? I am capable of true love by choice after all--a helpful reminder after all the failed dates I had this year. <br/>
<br/>Failed dates. I don't know why or how exactly these dates lose steam. But I'm glad they did. I would not in my wildest imagination jump in a relationship head first as I used to a couple of years back. I am certainly more measured, more level-headed, and, through it all, still hopeful. Hopeful, but not expecting. I can't help but think that I've wasted all that precious time dating one guy after the other. So this year I've decided to do better by:<br/>
<br/>1. Dating less, unless I genuinely feel there is potential;<br/>
2. Meditating and working out more consistently;<br/>
3. Being more time-efficient (and use Facebook less!);<br/>
4. Loving myself a little more. <br/>
<br/>The last part is tricky--I've always thought I like myself just fine. But there are too many things I don't forgive myself for. <br/>
<br/>I've also started teaching business law subjects to undergraduate students, which I guess partially fulfills what I remember saying here years ago. <br/>
<br/>So yeah. 2016 was pretty cool. 2017 will be a tough one, and I see little time for rest. But I'm ready, I'm happy, and I'm rather pleased with myself. <br/>
<br/>Happy New Year!<br/></p></div><br/>Arwind Verahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10775140746860359161noreply@blogger.com0Deer Park, Australia-37.7533096 144.7681542tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011697030850068611.post-17162600835542245082016-12-27T05:31:00.001+08:002016-12-27T05:31:52.130+08:00Holidays<div style="text-align: center; padding: 5px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht-cdRbIft_f07-9uJxiMdL-IJ8tjCQM_trOUYIn2yAFCqNVtg_YnwCiQXW41wyg6QYhaRxOl4FmdL1NNvC3hg6TO6jpkC3n6QHBOPiHBe3Igc-FKSvgSFqo37-eyyM0_FqdezwnhJdTw/"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht-cdRbIft_f07-9uJxiMdL-IJ8tjCQM_trOUYIn2yAFCqNVtg_YnwCiQXW41wyg6QYhaRxOl4FmdL1NNvC3hg6TO6jpkC3n6QHBOPiHBe3Igc-FKSvgSFqo37-eyyM0_FqdezwnhJdTw/ cursor: pointer;" width="320px" style="border: 1px solid; border-radius: 2px;padding: 5px; max-width: 320px " /></a></div><div class="blogaway-section"><p>I found a date during my one-month stay in Melbourne. Dating him has been great, and melodramatic, I suppose. We both know it can't and won't work out after this.<br/>
<br/>But this brief episode is teaching me a lot of things. See, back in Manila, I would date a handful of guys half-heartedly. There was no booming chemistry, and something in me knew those dates were doomed to fail.  I did them anyway. Maybe cos I thought it might work? Maybe cos I did not want to feel unattached? <br/>
<br/>I now realize what a waste of time that was. The guy I'm dating here has made me realize, brief though our stint may be, that I could do better. I should. <br/>
<br/>It's so easy to settle when you're kinda in a hurry to be in a relationship, because it terrifies me to be alone. Because who I am is a relationship person. Because I feel the need to share myself with someone. I now realize what a fool I've been. <br/>
<br/>So, yeah. Maybe I am a relationship person. Maybe that's what will truly and genuinely make me completely happy. And I will not have that, not anytime near. What I will have: long hours at work; Saturdays spent in school, teaching; relationships with new (and old) friends that I'm willing to invest in.<br/>
<br/>And you know what? That's okay. In fact, that's more than okay. And that's what makes my holidays pretty awesome. How about yours? </p></div><br/>Arwind Verahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10775140746860359161noreply@blogger.com0Burnside, Australia-37.746174 144.7520062tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011697030850068611.post-48214619148346437712016-10-24T13:52:00.002+08:002016-10-24T13:56:16.450+08:00I am okay<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I know I have resolved to write here more, but several obstacles have prevented me from doing so--not the least of which is my inability to remember my password. I'd try for a couple of times, then stop trying altogether. And then I delay. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Just now I have decided to try a bit harder, and here I am, finally! :) My first update in half a year?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms";"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms";">Try harder--that's what I failed to do here, in this makeshift journal, and that's what I fail to do with my love life. I guess I have to note here in some way that my more than two year-relationship has ended a couple of months ago. Yep. There goes my longest relationship. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms";"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms";">I would have written a couple of things just to "honor" what we had, but the memories have mostly been forgotten, deliberately or inadvertently. Looking back, still, that will always be the benchmark by which I would measure any prospective relationship. That sounds pretty fucked up, comparing a future that has no real existence to a past that ended for the right reasons. But my ex and I, I would like to think, were doing fine. We had mutual respect for each other, and I would always be the first person to vouch for his happiness. I would even venture to say that, despite the general inaccuracy of feelings, I loved him. Whether as a really good friend or as a romantic partner, I guess I will find out in the future. He remains to be one of the kindest and most selfless people I have ever had the honor of having cross paths with in my life. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms";"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms";">But that's the problem. We were <em>doing fine</em>. We were coasting along. And I don't want to coast along. I didn't want to remember my late 20s pouring in all my time for work and for a relationship, and not knowing where and who I am. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms";"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms";">It's funny, because I know what I didn't want. But I don't know what I want either. And not knowing is okay. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms";">I am okay. All things considered, I am in a pretty good place now. I know I am a relationship person, but being in a relationship for the most part of my adult life has bred in me a perennial sense of disappointment and discontent; I was always looking, asking, expecting for something more, when all I needed was to be by myself. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms";"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms";">Don't get me wrong, though--I date. Like,<em> a lot</em>. Being single again after a long time of being cooped up in the relationship bubble has really opened my eyes up to all those <em>apps</em>. But unlike before, I don't go out there with a sense of optimism. I let things unfold and not force them to become a creature that I'd later be discontent with, in either a few weeks or a few years. This definitely means that I am more scrupulous when it comes to commitments, rarely jumping into adventures without caution, but my renewed approach to take things more cautiously despite my instinct works for me. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms";"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms";">These days you'd see me working late nights, drinking and going out with friends, sometimes partying out, going to the gym as regularly as possible, hanging out with my family, and often just being alone watching TV series (totally hooked on Transparent, which deserves another post) or reading books after a long night. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms";"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms";">I honestly believe that this is the best version of myself so far. It could get better--I still have those random pangs of sadness, and I could be more financially stable, and I could do with a little less traffic driving to and from work. Of course, I could also do with a little less stress with work, but I guess legal practice is by itself a whole bag of problems waiting to be solved by people who don't know any better. Definitely, the President could do with a little less blabbering to help me sleep more peacefully at night (to selfishly put it).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms";"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms";">But I am okay. And being okay, right here, right now at this point in my life, is more than okay. </span>Arwind Verahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10775140746860359161noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011697030850068611.post-1645638123165094342016-03-07T18:55:00.000+08:002016-03-07T18:55:23.777+08:00What I wouldn't tell you<div class="MsoNormal">
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. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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 <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">meant it</i>? Before
shit hit the fan, when did anyone have an opinion they actually believed in, and
not just because it was the trending topic? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p>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<i> why</i>, exactly. What you had done, and what was the turning point when I decided I was out.</o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And this is where I drop that line: it’s not just you. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">It’s me. </i>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. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
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Arwind Verahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10775140746860359161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011697030850068611.post-77308911405429534972016-01-24T23:39:00.000+08:002016-01-24T23:39:10.966+08:002016 GoalsI've always tried (and failed to live up to) New Year's resolutions.<br />
<br />
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>I</i> am.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
So just for the sake of putting it out there in the universe:<br />
<br />
1. Do mindfulness meditation everyday.<br />
2. Go to the gym/do yoga at least once a week.<br />
3. Go out more often! (Drink with friends, play board games, go mountain hiking, go on trips together, etfc.)<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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 <i>at all </i>that bad.<br />
<br />
Hey, that's gratitude. Maybe this meditation thing is starting to work after all.<br />
<br />
<br />Arwind Verahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10775140746860359161noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011697030850068611.post-67473812338920423202015-10-18T20:03:00.001+08:002015-10-18T20:03:19.847+08:00The Break I Needed<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKnMJrpRRovvTsXjYFnmaYVfLpho4Xr199sbliBgsVgxsOQEh5Kai-TMYk-LFfAqEpB7ipsij9ZJDbg7wD8u8I0Lje7Meq8QAWIwM-tIJKPRH5UckVThz8gSYKJW-i3jtcKflyHgV1kDw/s640/blogger-image-1655684701.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKnMJrpRRovvTsXjYFnmaYVfLpho4Xr199sbliBgsVgxsOQEh5Kai-TMYk-LFfAqEpB7ipsij9ZJDbg7wD8u8I0Lje7Meq8QAWIwM-tIJKPRH5UckVThz8gSYKJW-i3jtcKflyHgV1kDw/s640/blogger-image-1655684701.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">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.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">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.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">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...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigqNbY3lstPoQzVvMjjGCbbpvnhZ9F_-HBRytiz-lCN1bZ3gDNz0i-IOf7WAcX5dbbtNuFf6cbn9DZlosOgUEpq1GVDIGJNFItywBuT2bKpTtIASBh4wtic8Hb10i_LsswOir5p-8d56E/s640/blogger-image--973889926.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigqNbY3lstPoQzVvMjjGCbbpvnhZ9F_-HBRytiz-lCN1bZ3gDNz0i-IOf7WAcX5dbbtNuFf6cbn9DZlosOgUEpq1GVDIGJNFItywBuT2bKpTtIASBh4wtic8Hb10i_LsswOir5p-8d56E/s640/blogger-image--973889926.jpg"></a></div><br></div>The sunrise is lovely, and I can imagine myself being a morning person here:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY8_gXUVBpnMWCPbeQz7dmxePP6GO8W-MCVnLF0rSwIr1nghKru1tll7aZHbh847ZQQ1pF6rO1o3EyGo7f3NzFHncb9hlmfPqCI_QXYj8K27bXOGjjuVA81NJlIXIg8-bmC-5wpxwt1rY/s640/blogger-image--1561809028.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY8_gXUVBpnMWCPbeQz7dmxePP6GO8W-MCVnLF0rSwIr1nghKru1tll7aZHbh847ZQQ1pF6rO1o3EyGo7f3NzFHncb9hlmfPqCI_QXYj8K27bXOGjjuVA81NJlIXIg8-bmC-5wpxwt1rY/s640/blogger-image--1561809028.jpg"></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">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. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">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. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><br></div>Arwind Verahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10775140746860359161noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011697030850068611.post-82268085674438949212015-09-30T00:10:00.001+08:002015-09-30T11:24:16.016+08:00Pro BonoLaw school is difficult, if I haven't established or made that clear yet.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But to be honest, law practice is shaping to be more difficult in some ways. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
In the span of eight months I have managed to:</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
• <b>Bail out my boyfriend's best friend out of jail</b>--but only after being substantially jaded by our justice system and by shady cops who'd frame innocent people up to extort money from them (I'm looking at you, police officers from Galas QC Police Station--I still have all your names and have crystal clear memory of what you did btw);</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
• <b>Draft a response to a notice to explain (before termination) by an employer</b>--for a cousin, in a record time of 2 hours, after going home at 12mn and after almost dying of sheer exhaustion;</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
• <b>Come up with a viable defense for what seems to be a clear violation of a non-compete clause -- </b>from an anonymous number that turned out to be from my close friend.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And these are just the cases I don't even get paid for, outside my occasional killer work hours. So yes, law practice is more difficult, because this is how I realized that cases I only used to read about and regurgitate in school affect real lives, and in emotionally painful ways that I can only imagine.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I have to admit: it's hard to stand from a distance, separate myself from the emotions running wild, and see everything with a clear vision of what should be done, legally. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I've always been the type to bottle my emotions in, but that doesn't make me any less emotionally vulnerable--just more capable of calibrating my emotions from the outside. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But now I understand. It's my job, more than anything, to not let my emotions cloud my judgment. And to let it only get in the way if it moves me nearer towards the end goal. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<i>Why do I have to help outside work when I'm not getting paid for this shit? Why do I have to expend my emotions and time and effort on this, all three invaluable currencies for a lawyer?</i></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And then I remember: these are little things, yes. But I suppose, it is in these little things that the law breathes life, and affects people. So maybe I do get invested, without any real ROI in the long run. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But maybe that's how I learn what justice really means? </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Arwind Verahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10775140746860359161noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011697030850068611.post-32041443757962330112015-09-29T00:51:00.001+08:002015-09-29T00:55:26.703+08:00Why I Need to Write AgainI've made a promise to write more often to myself (and to my non-existent readers) for the millionth time, and have embarassingly managed to break that same promise every time.<br />
<br />
So. You know what? I'm not even going to promise anymore.<br />
<br />
What I can say is that I have gone through the reasons in my head. And I'm convinced writing is the only way to keep me sane.<br />
<br />
In a virtual world where everyone wants to self-identify with their "invaluable" opinions, posting selfies (and getting as many affirmations through their networks) is a virtual currency, and showing off one's latest buys is the highlight of the day, there's value (at least for me) to be writing raw stuff in anonymity, without being paid for it, with the remote chance of anyone reading it. And just for the heck of it.<br />
<br />
I am not quite sure what to call this feeling--social media exhaustion? Isolatedness? Antisocial tendencies? Not giving a fuck if you've just gotten yourself a new car (or, worse, a new opinion)?<br />
<br />
Well, whatever it is, I've had enough. I've had enough of people talking about #AlDub or #MyPastillasGirl, and people fighting over which one is better, and people calling its fans dumb, and people defending other people's choices for liking either against so-called elitists, and just in general making a big fuss out of everything. I mean, really, do we have to do this? Do we really have to overthink and defend what we do <i>for entertainment </i>every time? <br />
<br />
<b>Why do we have to take every trend in whatever form, and run it to the ground? </b> I don't even think people are through, because there is apparently a lot that is still left to be said.<br />
<br />
Don't get me wrong; what I mentioned aren't the only things people have somehow turned into a viral phenomenon. And it's not looking to be the last.<br />
<br />
I am probably to blame--whether through the choice of friends I keep on Facebook or by consuming every person's opinion/rant mindlessly--but here I am, an unwilling victim of every angle and imaginable opinion of every viral issue on local cyberspace. I didn't even realize it, until all the weight of the negativity and aggression people have literally made me feel heavy and, quite honestly, I just can't put up with it anymore.<br />
<br />
So I write. I write, because I've been consuming the negativity and aggression for too long, and I need to finally spit it all out. God knows I need a place to throw <i>my</i> brand of negativity away, and, unlike other people, I just can't do it on Facebook. Cause, you know, my mom is my Facebook friend.Arwind Verahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10775140746860359161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011697030850068611.post-5944067495406391422015-06-21T20:27:00.000+08:002015-06-21T20:27:49.012+08:00FinallyIt's been a while since I've written here, and the feeling is strange--almost like trying to rekindle a friendship once lost.<br />
<br />
I guess I know how to lose friendships all too well. There's really nothing to it. You just start slipping away from a person that used to be a huge part of your life, and you don't even try to fight it. But this is not one of those lost friendships. It shouldn't be.<br />
<br />
This blog, few though its law-related posts may be, has gotten me through some really tough times.<br />
<br />
I envisioned it to be a place where I can chronicle my thoughts as I went through law school. Instead it became a storage for my sentimentalities :P<br />
<br />
And yet, here I am. To the goal that seemed illusory a few years ago: I am finally a lawyer. Arwind Verahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10775140746860359161noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011697030850068611.post-12156943435426602922014-11-03T12:49:00.001+08:002014-11-03T12:49:38.403+08:00The Waiting Begins...After several attempts at signing into my own Blogger account, I'm finally, successfully here.<br />
<br />
I feel like I owe at least an explanation of what really happened to me, so here's a preview:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>I've graduated from law school.</li>
<li>I went through six months of bar review HELL...</li>
<li>and finished all four Sundays of the bar exams!</li>
<li>I'm about to celebrate my first year anniversary with my partner!</li>
</ul>
<br />
It feels wrong to sum everything up in four points, since the sheer effort and dedication that went into what can be simplified into <em>just</em> four sentences were, for lack of a better word, CRAZY. My emotions have gone up and down, I went through several episodes of insanity, and I discovered a whole new dimension of me that I didn't know was there. Apparently I could be crazier--and <em>stronger</em>--that I thought. But that's another set of stories best memorialized in my head.<br />
<br />
I'm here, I suppose, because I need some sort of closure, some place I can go back to. I'm not the type that takes photos, so I don't have any way of visually remembering the "highlights" of my life. And as proven in this blog, neither am I the type that religiously journals my day-to-day life. <br />
<br />
But for all my failures to make this blog what I promised it to be, this blog is what it is (a raw and poor documentation of what <strike>the fuck</strike> happened throughout law school), and I'm <strike>happy</strike> satisfied with what I did. <br />
<br />
Arwind Verahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10775140746860359161noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011697030850068611.post-87239280706890766082014-03-14T23:34:00.001+08:002014-03-14T23:34:54.613+08:00In (Almost) Closing<div class="MsoNormal">
In between studying the law and trying to land myself a
decent job before graduation, life has been so fast-paced that I can barely
stop, breathe, and reflect about the comings and goings of my <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Last night I had to deal with… <i>relational </i>issues in law school, and how tired I was suddenly
dawned on me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sure, I was tired of studying
surviving the daily grind, going into a class unprepared and hoping not to get
called, the whole nine yards. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I’m mostly tired of having to deal with people’s shit in
law school. I mean, people had to create a Facebook page for airing their
grievances, as if the gossip that swirls around the college isn’t enough. And
that’s just the tip of the iceberg. I’d only meant to blow off some steam to my
partner, when I ended up ranting like crazy.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I guess I should be frustrated that the few friends I gained
in law schools are the ones I’m not sure I can trust 100%. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m not by any stretch saying that I’m faultless. In fact, I’m
probably to blame for the most part. I did this to myself: deliberately missing
out on activities, distancing myself, not opening up, and mentally rolling my
eyes whenever one attempts to get ahead of the other (which by the way happened
far more times than I can count). <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The point I’m making is that I’m tired. I’m happy, for the
most part, about the progress I have made—how I <i>think</i> I have grown, my perspective towards issues, all that stuff.
But, honestly? If I could turn back time? I suppose I would be a little less
agitated, more focused at the task at hand, and I would definitely stop looking
for love in the wrong places. <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
But now that four years has passed, I’d say I didn’t do so
bad myself. I’m tired, but I’m good.<o:p></o:p></div>
Arwind Verahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10775140746860359161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011697030850068611.post-32269923901176521012014-01-04T13:42:00.001+08:002014-01-04T13:52:10.797+08:00There will always be a moon pulling me away from you. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
The measure of a great song, to me, is in the perfect emotional balance between the lyrical content and the melody. It's even better if it has the capacity to make you <i>feel </i>something, even if your life story is far different from that of the storyteller. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
There's this sadness and loss I feel whenever I turn this song on. Every word pierces through--how can't you feel anything when he starts saying, "<i>Cause I'm trying here</i>"? While other songs lose their luster to over time, this song isn't about to any time soon. Listen for yourself :)</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/gEeQzzDm1ss?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>GONE</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Head and the Heart</i></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
There were times you should have stalled</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
As you sailed into the fog</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Like a dog, I smelled your fear</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Lord knows you should have been here with me</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
But you were gone</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
These days roll sleepily by </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I can hear the old trains cry</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
There will always be a moon</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
pulling me away from you</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
You're gone</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Gone are the days when the wind would brush my face</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Gone are the days when you're the wind</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Gone are the days when my heavy heart is worn on my sleeve</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Take back your pictures</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Take back your letters</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Don't send me no postcards</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Telling me you miss me</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Cause I'm trying here, I'm trying here</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And fuck what they're saying</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
My mind is made up</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And they're all just starving</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Like the rest of us</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And I'm trying here, I'm trying here</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Gone are the days when the wind would brush my face</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Gone are the days when you're the wind</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Gone are the days when my heavy heart is worn on your sleeve</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It's your head or your heart</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and you're too damn scared to start</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It's in your mind and your soul</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
but you just don't know where to go.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It's in your head and your heart</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and you're too damn scared to start</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It's in your mind and your soul</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
but you just don't know where to go.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Now you're gone.</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/E6MrOa5ynak?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
<br />
P.S. I had myself tested over this break. It was something I'd meant to do--it was only a question of when. I figured that I should do it after I take the bar--because what if I found out that I was positive before reviewing for the bar? That would be a burden too heavy to bear. But because I couldn't stop thinking about it, I went ahead anyway--and found out that I'm negative. All is well.Arwind Verahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10775140746860359161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011697030850068611.post-10058922452719467842013-12-04T23:22:00.000+08:002013-12-04T23:31:30.374+08:00Why do I love you? I've waited a while for this, and I always knew that I'll know love when I see it in the eye. So I guess you can say that I saw it in yours.<br />
<i><br /></i>
So, w<i>hy?</i><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
It’s not because you’re broken, as I have been accustomed to
loving the others that have come before you. You couldn't be in a more perfect state. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And to be honest, I'm quite scared, a bit broken, and <i>very</i>, very cynical. I thought all my past relationships have just about worn me out... I couldn't be more mistaken. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I love you. I feel it when I wrap my arms around you, and wait for that precise moment when you cross the line between attempting to sleep, and letting out that one final sigh before you finally doze off. It gives me a strange sense of completion. It's when you're finally asleep that I get to kiss your forehead, stare at you for a while. And in that brief moment, I get to reflect about how we've only been together for a few days--yet I know, in spite of being the unsure and indecisive and confused person that I am, that this is going to last for a long<i> </i>time.<br />
<br /></div>
Arwind Verahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10775140746860359161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011697030850068611.post-76412684184301570352013-11-23T14:07:00.001+08:002013-11-23T14:07:40.434+08:00Pause<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s the pause in between the long kisses. Then I look in
your eyes, and I see a glint of something growing in you (and no, it’s not <i>that </i>thing down there). <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I know because I feel it, too. And I wish—how I damn wish—that
I can put that feeling in a box, seal it tight, put it at the most convenient
spot in my heart, so I can easily open it whenever I want to, whenever my short
temper rouses me to anger, whenever I’m feeling impatient… whenever, well,
whenever the bad in me gets the best of me. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We’re a long way ahead, but something’s telling me that those
pauses, the knowing smiles, the lump in my throat—that’s a great place to start
as any. <o:p></o:p></div>
Arwind Verahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10775140746860359161noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011697030850068611.post-5625063986458291712013-11-21T09:07:00.001+08:002013-11-21T09:09:17.063+08:00The Only ThingIf there's anything stopping me, that would be the skepticism about love that I have acquired through the years. It would be the fear of holding on too tight, of identifying myself with one person--one person in a sea of billions of people. Because in the past months, I've asked this more times than I could count: how do we really choose the person for us? Or do we ever really choose--is it not destiny, some kind of cosmic force, that designates the person we're supposed to be with, at least for the time being?<br />
<br />
And then in the midst of my curiosity, just when I thought that I knew better than to like someone (because I haven't really liked someone in a while) and that I have this entire liking thing figured out, you come walking in. And I'm pleasantly surprised.<br />
<br />
And to be totally honest, all these aren't nearly enough to stop me from getting too close. Maybe it's the fascination I have about you, or the contentment of entangling myself in you. Or maybe because I've known no other joy more addicting than liking someone I'm thus far compatible and interested and willing to give myself to with. There are a lot of maybes, and only one thing certain, which I suppose is all that matters.<br />
<br />
I can go all day justifying myself, going in circles just to understand myself. But at the end of the day, it's you. It's all you, and I guess that's the only thing I really need to move forward.Arwind Verahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10775140746860359161noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011697030850068611.post-27472084956347804682013-10-28T15:48:00.002+08:002013-10-28T19:28:55.015+08:00The Last Few MonthsI'd meant to write something here, but for one reason or another I always ended up deleting what I started. It's not that I have run out of stories to tell, or have found strangers to tell my stories to. Writing can become a bit of an obligation that you just want to get out of it. There are ideas and thoughts in your head, but you'd rather not put it to form, and instead let them swirl around, until you manage to push them at the back of your mind and let them fade into memory.<br />
<br />
I've not had any luck with dating. The longer I stay single, the more I'm convinced that I should <i>stay </i>single. I'm hardly the type who stays single for long, but I'm liking the change. I like how I can feign interest in my dates, pretending I'm someone I'm not, and, in a manner of speaking, making a mockery of this thing they call dating in my own selfish way. One of these days I'll be caught off-guard. Something will happen, perhaps I'll end up really liking someone. Someone who reads, listens to the music I do, takes my sarcastic jokes in stride... it wouldn't be so bad if that guy was a looker, too. For now, I'll settle with trying to be as well-adjusted as I could be, all while rolling my eyes over everything my date says that he thinks is remotely interesting.<br />
<br />
I've had worse luck with academics. In the general scheme of things, I guess you could say I'm doing pretty well. But remember that I'm the type who pushes himself to the breaking point? Who always has to be in his best self? I could've done better, but I was too distracted. Half the time I found myself in movie theaters or sleeping days away. For now the gameplan is to study like fuck, find more good music, try not to hyperventilate at the thought of taking the bar exams a year from now.<br />
<br />
I'm near the finish line. I've almost done it. I'm on my last semester, and I know I can do it.Arwind Verahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10775140746860359161noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011697030850068611.post-62506612136927312322013-07-15T12:38:00.001+08:002013-07-15T12:38:13.671+08:00Twenty-three isn't as fun as seventeen<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Microsoft Sans Serif","sans-serif";">I’m
not as young as before. I’m twenty-three. While some will argue that it’s still
a fairly young age and I have a whole life ahead of me, it’s still not
seventeen. And it’s funny, because at twenty-three, and months away from my law
degree, I have never been so clueless. What’s even funnier is that I had an
inkling of what to do when I was seventeen: I was going to law school. I was in
a relationship then, and, even if I wasn’t, I could detect a spark when I felt
it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Microsoft Sans Serif","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Microsoft Sans Serif","sans-serif";">Roughly
four years after college, I can’t help but feel like life is thrusting me into this
whole new dimension I’m not sure I’m prepared for. I’ve always known that I’m a
relationship person, and I’m at my best when I’m in one (except for the last
few weeks when I knew a relationship was going nowhere, and I would decide to botch
it up altogether)…but, frankly, I’m not so sure anymore. I’ve always known that
I’m fairly responsible and hardworking, but why am I not working so hard
anymore? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Microsoft Sans Serif","sans-serif";">I
guess my recent and longest relationship changed certain perspectives. I may
not have fully recovered in terms of trusting myself and moving forward alone,
but I should. Time is running, the bar review is just around the corner, and I
have bigger battles to conquer than the ones inside my head.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Arwind Verahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10775140746860359161noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011697030850068611.post-37772565260108233912013-05-31T13:40:00.002+08:002013-05-31T13:40:39.245+08:00Sad and FamiliarIt's a sad story, but it's one that I've written about too many times before. More times than I've written about law school, the supposed theme of this blog anyway. But it's been a while since I've shared this kind of story, and a long time has passed since I've taken the time to reflect and write about what I feel.<br />
<br />A failed relationship. This time, it took me more than a year for us to finally call it quits. And as I said, it's a sad story, and it doesn't make much sense, but the long and short of it is that it's over.<br />
<br />
I should be comfortable writing this story. I am, after all, familiar with how it goes.<br />
<br />
But I am not. My failed relationships say more about me than about them. I can keep convincing my own ghosts that there was, in one way or another, always something wrong with them.<br />
<br />
But it's me. It's all me, isn't it?Arwind Verahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10775140746860359161noreply@blogger.com2