Some people have their life planned out before their eyes.
Some talk about principles and codes of conduct.
Some talk about five-year plans, ten-year plans.
Some draw out their lover-type, marriage-type, mother-of-their-children type.
Some talk about business they're gonna do.
about people they're gonna boss.
about money they're gonna make.
about fame they're gonna get.
Some talk about family they want to build, children they want to have.
Some draw their children with eyes and hair and body and everything.
I don't talk much. I wish I could do that. Sometimes silence bothers everyone, eventually.
You don't know me
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Sometimes I wonder if it's better to live emotional or to live rational.
Live rational I see flaws in every argument and beliefs of anyone. I see the tiny holes and fills them up with my contempt, disappointment, and a shiny opportunity for verbal attack. Sometimes it dramatizes into a breakdown. Then I don't know if it was a breakdown from my rational mind or my emotional mind.
The thing I fear most from my rationality is that it can so easily spot the weakness, cowardice, shame in what other people have to say. It also so easily spots my own vices, stupidity, shallowness. That is when the breakdown strikes me with such force, so much force that it makes me weak and hate myself.
That is why I like to resort to emotions. In emotions everything is so fleeting, superficial, easy to deal with. In emotions I don't remember things after a while. Unlike rational arguments I tend to sculp it inside my mind.
Live rational I see flaws in every argument and beliefs of anyone. I see the tiny holes and fills them up with my contempt, disappointment, and a shiny opportunity for verbal attack. Sometimes it dramatizes into a breakdown. Then I don't know if it was a breakdown from my rational mind or my emotional mind.
The thing I fear most from my rationality is that it can so easily spot the weakness, cowardice, shame in what other people have to say. It also so easily spots my own vices, stupidity, shallowness. That is when the breakdown strikes me with such force, so much force that it makes me weak and hate myself.
That is why I like to resort to emotions. In emotions everything is so fleeting, superficial, easy to deal with. In emotions I don't remember things after a while. Unlike rational arguments I tend to sculp it inside my mind.
Memoir for a dream
Sunday, July 11, 2010
I came to his apartment on a casual afternoon, expecting a talk will help relieve the anxiety and depression I've had lately for my relationship. How and why I knew the address, I did not know. I just noticed it was a too simple apartment, one-room with a mattress lying on the floor, dark as crimson, somewhat similar to the one I've been to.
It had been a pleasant visit until we had a few drinks to share. That was the moment when it happened. What should I call it? A rape, an intercourse, a lovemaking session? None would ever describe the explicit nature and the emotional tangle it brought about. Yes the physical side of it was brutal, forceful, not-romantic-at-all style. The emotional side of it was pain, humiliation, depression and hopelessness.
During the midst of the session did he confess that I was the first woman he's had ever, that I'm someone he wanted to experiment. The anger followed was so great it made me mute and red. I was suffering from pain. What mess did I let myself in with someone who's not straight and who wanted to have a taste of woman? That moment I jumped out of bed and realized how sour I was feeling. It felt like everything would just be leading down straight the drain, not a single thing was worth the terrible consequences I've had to face.
I ran out of the door and kept running. I never came back, somehow I managed to avoid him for good. I was scared, terrified, sore, tired, and lost.
It had been a pleasant visit until we had a few drinks to share. That was the moment when it happened. What should I call it? A rape, an intercourse, a lovemaking session? None would ever describe the explicit nature and the emotional tangle it brought about. Yes the physical side of it was brutal, forceful, not-romantic-at-all style. The emotional side of it was pain, humiliation, depression and hopelessness.
During the midst of the session did he confess that I was the first woman he's had ever, that I'm someone he wanted to experiment. The anger followed was so great it made me mute and red. I was suffering from pain. What mess did I let myself in with someone who's not straight and who wanted to have a taste of woman? That moment I jumped out of bed and realized how sour I was feeling. It felt like everything would just be leading down straight the drain, not a single thing was worth the terrible consequences I've had to face.
I ran out of the door and kept running. I never came back, somehow I managed to avoid him for good. I was scared, terrified, sore, tired, and lost.
F.R.I.E.N.D.S
Thursday, July 8, 2010
When other acquaintances turn basterds and bitches.
When work becomes overload.
When body refuses to co-operate.
When love lets you down.
When eating makes you feel too full and not eating makes you starved.
When those bad things happen, you think of somebodies and feel better.
That's when you know they are friends =)
When work becomes overload.
When body refuses to co-operate.
When love lets you down.
When eating makes you feel too full and not eating makes you starved.
When those bad things happen, you think of somebodies and feel better.
That's when you know they are friends =)
l.o.v.e
Monday, July 5, 2010
Watched two movies today, a single man and a quiet american.
One surrounds a dead homosexual man, one surrounds a living sensual girl.
Both involve death, sudden, unanticipated deaths that came when people least expected it. They should've known what's in it for them the whole time.
Both depict a man's love. The kind of love that can grow into an outrage, a murder, a suicide. The kind of love that also allows his lover to leave, either to death or to another lover's arms. The kind of love that masks itself as anything else. The kind of love that knows better.
One surrounds a dead homosexual man, one surrounds a living sensual girl.
Both involve death, sudden, unanticipated deaths that came when people least expected it. They should've known what's in it for them the whole time.
Both depict a man's love. The kind of love that can grow into an outrage, a murder, a suicide. The kind of love that also allows his lover to leave, either to death or to another lover's arms. The kind of love that masks itself as anything else. The kind of love that knows better.
brazil - holland
Saturday, July 3, 2010
There are days that absolutely pass without us noticing any moments. There are days that pass with every single moment memorized into our memory.
Today is one of those latter days, not to mention that it is my bro's birthday, which in any case, I should remember.
People are so weird. They seem only to want what they can't have, or don't have anymore. When I moved house, at this point I should note that my old house was not like this one, meaning it was more or less (a lot more actually) cluttered, dark and somehow, as someone said it "Not suitable for human health", when I moved, at first I couldn't feel the exhiliration of moving to a better place. All I could feel was sadness, and ambivalence of having to abandon some place. It is somewhat similar now, since last night I crashed my old Mac Mini (or it crashed of its own accord).
Today something funny happened. Somehow people just take it for granted that I know everything about him, which used to be true, but not anymore. It is somehow a relief to say "I don't know" truthfully, not like before when I had to use it as a cover. At some point, I can feel the grip is being released, like moving to a new house or changing a computer.
Today is one of those latter days, not to mention that it is my bro's birthday, which in any case, I should remember.
People are so weird. They seem only to want what they can't have, or don't have anymore. When I moved house, at this point I should note that my old house was not like this one, meaning it was more or less (a lot more actually) cluttered, dark and somehow, as someone said it "Not suitable for human health", when I moved, at first I couldn't feel the exhiliration of moving to a better place. All I could feel was sadness, and ambivalence of having to abandon some place. It is somewhat similar now, since last night I crashed my old Mac Mini (or it crashed of its own accord).
Today something funny happened. Somehow people just take it for granted that I know everything about him, which used to be true, but not anymore. It is somehow a relief to say "I don't know" truthfully, not like before when I had to use it as a cover. At some point, I can feel the grip is being released, like moving to a new house or changing a computer.
Ping Pong
Friday, July 2, 2010
How can I love you How can I love you
If you just don't talk to me, babe?
If you just don't talk to me, babe?
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