When Did This Get So Complicated?

Sometimes… most of the time… I really wish I could tell you how I feel. How much I care for you. Or the fact that I want to hold your hand.

There are days when this feeling gets too overwhelming that I don’t know how to deal with it anymore.
Should I just tell you how I feel? And how would you react?

Laugh it off?
make a face and say “what?”
Tell me that you love me back?

This. This was supposed to be a joke. A fling. It’s supposed to mean nothing.

But this turns out to be the exact opposite of it.

Know that I love you.
That I care for you.
That I want you to tell me stuff just for the heck of it.

Is that too much to ask?

Time Phase

Some nights are lonelier than the others.

Some days are harder to get through.

There are times in my life where what I need, what I long for the most, is to get a hug. To lean on his chest  and to circle my arms around his waist. To pull down the sheet, lay next to him and listen to him breathe. And do nothing else. Absolutely nothing.

Those days are hard. I’d feel so alone and I don’t know what to do-because I couldn’t just shock people out of their core and hug them-and I’d end up burying it down, as deep as I can just so I don’t have to deal with the way I felt. But it comes back. It would always find its way back and it would leave me craving it more. Twice as much. Then thrice. It goes on and on and on…

I like to imagine that you’re here with me
We’d hold hands and walk. wherever you want. wherever I want. whenever we feel like it
You’d slump your head on my shoulder and instinctively, I’d tug the lose end of your hair and ask you anything.
Rough day?
What’s wrong?
You OK?
You would sigh or stay silent.
I would stay silent.
Then you’d talk. and I’d listen

Some days I would crave you so badly.
Some days I sleep with your shirt lying next to me.
Some days just hearing your voice, your phantom touches, they are not enough.

I like to imagine you’re here with me
Crooked smile and scowling eyebrows whenever I say something weird
the mellow sound of your voice when you whisper in my ear
the smell of your body soap and shampoo all over me in the morning

Do you not get what I’m trying to say to you?
Can you not see it in my eyes-the pain that would be there every time I had to drop you at the airport
the joy and the sparkle whenever you’re around
the need of making love to you

Do you not get that I’m trying to say I love you?

Masquerade

I opened WordPress just because I want to post a random rambling and instead I found one of my old posts here. And it struck me how easy and effortlessly (it seems) for me to write down the things I wrote. Like it just came out the back of my head and my hands did not have the trouble to express it all out.

But lately I have faltered from such things.

I was always good at cheering myself up. If someone asks me what is it that I’m really good at, I think that would be the answer. I have the ability to pick myself up and post a learning lesson about it. Only lately, I have not had any valuable lessons to learn. Life goes on and it gives you this… piece or equipment to run and I do it like I always do. But along the way I forgot to pick up the important stuff.

I was really impressed with what I wrote. I mean… call me cheesy or whatever, but it’s true. What actually happened to me that I have now lost that voice?

I always tell myself that what I’m good at, it’s either not really needed in life (Who the hell needs someone who can do accents but cannot act? Or someone who knows tunes but doesn’t know hot to play the frickin’ piano? Or any instrumental piece for that matter?) or it only has a good use for myself. Which is… pretty much the same of saying that it’s useless. For other people.

If I’m going to do things right, then I have just found my new year resolution.

You have to take matters to your own hands and not wait around for someone else to give you a divine message. Sometimes a divine message can come from yourself.

Over Exposed

Do you think people who are blogging or LJing or Facebooking of Twitting or whatever you wanna call it are somewhat over exposed?

 

I read an interview article today and it kinda threw me aback in terms of technology. I have blogs, Facebook, Twitter… and what is the point?

 

I was on an internet hiatus for about a week for my final term. I do admit that it’s insanely hard for me to not go to my laptop at night like I used to and just sit here for hours  surfing around. But once I got used to it, it’s actually not so bad. When I could actually open the internet again, I found myself not wanting to and telling myself that “that stuff can wait”. I’ve been so occupied by it that I didn’t realise how-I don’t know how to say this-boxed? my life really is.

 

It’s crazy and I have everything in my head but I’m not doing too good with words today so I can’t really say it, but… yeah.

Interview: Part 7

Q: And how was today?
A: It was okay… I didn’t expect anything so, I don’t know what to say. Class was too crowded and too small for holding up 80 people. Did nothing at lab. Went home quite early. Took a shower because it was so damn hot today… And that’s besically it. I actually have to look things up on the internet for my assignments but I think I can do that tomorrow. Or later tonight.

Q: So it wasn’t… bad?
A: In a way, yes. But definitely not, like, panic-attack bad.

Q: Are you nervous for tomorrow?
A: Not really. But, you know what… I think when the time comes when I will be busy, then I will have a semi nervous breakdown. Maybe.
Q: And why is that?
A: Just because. It’s what I’ve always do. Get under pressure, and I’ll have a breakdown. Get into a traumatic experience over and over again and I’ll have panic attacks. That’s just me. Although I really wish I won’t have a nervous breakdown, I have a feeling. It’s looming somewhere.
Q: Do you plan to do something about it?
A: What can I do, exactly?
Q: Well, you can take some medications for that. If it strikes.
A: I don’t think I’m going to do that.

Q: So for the time being, can I safely say that we’re clear of danger?
A: For the time being, yes.
Q: Well you call me if anything happens.
A: Will do.

Interview: Part 6

Q: My God!

A: Yeah, right.

Q: I thought you’d never come back.

A: I’m in the middle of a panic attack right now.

 

Q: Sit down. Tell me what happened?

A: I had it when I was at Starbucks and then it kinda went away for a while… Just now I realized it’s came back.

 

Q: Describe them for me.

A: My throat feels like it’s swelling up to the point where it’s almost closing down. I cannot breathe normally. I have to take a huge amount of oxygen from my mouth. My heartbeat went kinky for a while and then I just felt like I could’ve gone down crying.

Q: Okay, well… that sounds like a panic attack to me.

A: You’re telling me!

Q: Why do you have this?

A: College. What else?

 

Q: Hah! God, I have no idea where you are right now. We have a lot of catching up to do.

A: Let me just describe myself to you right now, okay? I’m LOST.

Q: Start from the very beginning.

A: I read the past transcripts and it just shows that basically I have gone nowhere. I’m still as lost, still as complicated, still a total wreck. I thought I’d grown past that but in a way, I think I’m more childish now than I was then. I still have the same dream and I still do not know what I should do. Oh, God, it’s coming again…

Q: Try to breathe…

 

A: I am absolutely freaked out about tomorrow and I don’t know why. Going to college is like facing King Kong for me. It’s horrifying.

Q: Does it have something to do with the fact that you don’t like the major?

A: Yes. Thank you very much! That was spot on!

Q: Any traumatic experiences?

A: Well just that the start of the college begins with terror, so…

Q: How’s that?

A: Well they terrorize you to the point that you apologize to the seniors no matter what. Because if you do it wrong, you’re wrong; and if you do it right, you’re still wrong. There’s always something to blame. And I get the point that they want us to be strong-minded and stand up for what’s right but I just don’t think that’s the way to begin anything. With terror. That’s, like, the worst, crappiest way to start. And to me, it still haunts me to this day. Other people get over it and move on quickly but I don’t. Every time, that experience is looming and I somehow think that it can happen again…………. Do you think I have a mental condition?

Q: I wouldn’t know. From my point of view, you do need a little help but there’s nothing so serious about it. Let’s get back to the panic attack.

A: Oh, right.

Q: How do you deal with all of them? I take it you’ve had more than one?

A: Yes. Usually I calm myself by talking myself out of it just see it as “a day” instead of seeing it as… something full of obstacles.

Q: And that would work?

A: In a short term, yes. Then I have to do it all over again……….. I gotta tell you, I… some of the stuff I said to you, I didn’t even remember them. It’s like… “poof!” they’re all gone. That’s really something else.

 

Q: What do you think is the bast way to end the panic attacks permanently?

A: …. I don’t know. Get good grades? Oh, f%$# that’s the last thing I wanna talk about or think about! Anyways. I suppose all that jazz and get more friends.

Q: You mean you still don’t have many friends?

A: Nope.

Q: And why is that?

A: Ummmmmm……… Difference of opinion? Difference of interest? I’m always arguing with them and that would lead to self doubt, and I fancy the stuff they don’t. I usually don’t like the stuff they love… You know what, it’s making me sick. Like, seriously, I’m about to vomit right now. I think I’m going to throw up.

…

…

…

…

 

Q: Better?

A: Yeah. I didn’t actually vomit, though. It was just saliva.

…

…

 

Q: Do something for me.

A: Yeah?

Q: I think this might help you to handle the problems.

A: Ok…

Q: I want you to buy a recorder. Whenever you feel like you’re in a situation where you want to talk the whole thing out, you record it. You say everything you want to say and don’t hold back. Just let it all out.

A: I’ve actually been thinking about that.

Q: Well, good! Now you have a reason to buy it, and I say you buy it. For your sake. IF, in the future, you decide you want to go to another psychiartrist, you give them the recording so they can listen to it. I know you don’t feel comfortable talking directly to them so that’s another way of explaining yourself.

A: Yep. Sounds good.
Q: I really think that you should start a real teraphy. Not just with me.

A: …

Q: See what kind of explanation they can come up with you, and whether you agree with them or not, that’s up for our grabs later on. You can come back here and discuss the session with me if you want to.

A: Do you have any recommendation at all?

Q: No, not in this city, I don’t. But try it out. If you’re not comfortable with seeing another shrink, then do the tapes first. Bring them to me and we’ll go from there. I suggest you buy the recorder ASAP. Because this is not healthy.

A: OK.

 

Q: What are you feeling right now? What’s going on in your head? Right now?

A: This afternoon when I had a panic attack, I don’t think my facial expression changed. It’s more like… what I felt. I knew my heart just went-whoosh!-you know. It just jumped. And I knew I couldn’t breathe right. But my face remains the same.

Q: Well… do you think you’re ready for tomorrow?

A: Hell no! But what else can I do? I have to tough it up.

 

Q: Come back tomorrow. I wanna know how you feel after the first day.

A: Okay.

Random Rambling

There is a lump somewhere in my body that right now I just cannot get rid of. I think when you admire someone so much and once you get to the point where you root for them, and they ended up losing, you just cannot believe your eyes or what you see. Like, you thought it’s all just… in your head.

 

Would I say that his defeat was inevitable? No. He had points and chances where he could’ve won 3 sets to 1. Specially in the 3rd set. How many break points did he have? How many he converted? And in the end he looked like he fell apart. Almost no confidence at all, errors everywhere, face looking down.

 

I’m disappointed, that, after 4 hours of fabulous tennis by both players, I still cannot respect the winner. I do believe that it’s only because of his haircut, and I know full well that people will smack me in the head because I know what he did was beyond fantastic and that he had so many good points and he fights for it like nobody else. And he’s a nice guy. And just because of his haircut I don’t give him enough credit that he deserves. Can I change that? No. I don’t think so. Not as long as he still has that hairdo, no.

It’s a silly and stupid and pathetic reason, I know, but… yeah.

 

Now no matter how many words and sentences I write, it’s not going to change anything. But I still cannot accept the reality that things are different than what I pictured it would be.

 

If there’s one thing that sports, any sports, has that some other aspects in life may not, it’s passion.

Don’t Wake Up

There’s something strange about having a dream that is so vivid and so real. It’s planted in your head and once you woke up, it’s like you just made a huge jump from that other world towards reality.

 

When the dream is creepy and scary and leaves you wanting to scream of help most of the time, or when it makes your legs are about to fall off from running (and this, I believe, usually happens whenever I’m having a migraine), then the jump couldn’t be more of a lifesaver, you feel. It’s like, “Oh Thank GOD that was just a dream.”

 

But when the dream is nice and fluffy and it has something to do with your own desire, it’s like being in a movie and you’re the lead role. For me, the first thing that screamed in my head when I wake up is, “Damn it!”

Because it was just a dream and I want it to be real. And when I woke up, it’s a sudden jolt of… reality check? I don’t know.

 

I just had one of those nice dreams, and when I have nice dreams, it’s stuck in my head. Sometimes just in the matter of hours, but sometimes it can take me up to a week to feel like myself again (these dreams I would usually remember forever).

 

There’s something about being a romantic that suits me best, and the dream was just about that. It involves some actors and actresses (won’t mention names). One my father, one my mother, one for myself, and the other one for the woman. And the story started of in my grandma’s kitchen and me cooking and somehow it blitzed to another location and the thing I remember is a particular scene where my dad and the woman (who’s having an affair I think. But I like her also) dresses like Cinderella and the prince. My mother doesn’t know that they’re “an item” and we were all invited to a party of some kind.

Long story short, my dad proposes to this woman, and I saw my mom peeking through the window, and all of a sudden this woman turned to me and said, “Ollie (apparently that’s my name)… Marry me?”
My dad seemed unsurprised, because of some twisted story the dream has, he knows I love her, too.

I stood up, took her hand and said, “If it were in any other condition, in any other way, in a second I would’ve said yes. I love you and I do want to marry you. But I know, that you don’t love me the same way you love him. So, no. I don’t want to marry you because you think it’s the best solution. I want to marry you if you love me, like you love him. And you don’t. So I have to let you go.”

Cut back to years later, I was a paper boy and I delivered the morning paper to her house and she greeted me. She was married (to a different man. Not my father) and she wanted to go away with me. I witnessed it myself that her husband was abusive (he almost hit her but I put a stop to it), and she ended up running away with me.

Then there was some chasing by her husband’s men and la la la, and our house was on the verge of being bombed, and that’s when my eyes jolted open.

 

What I remember most was the look of her face, because I know that actress well; it was a very familiar face. It took me very much by surprise because I wouldn’t say that I have a big fandom of her. She is beautiful, and I like her work very much. But to have a dream (much more that kind of dream) was something that surprises me the most. And to say those lines! Holy hell! Since when do I support affairs?

 

I think the beauty of dreams is that you get to be… whoever. A hero. A loser. A lover. A poet. Someone who’s chased by ghost. Someone who supports affairs. Someone who much less understands the meaning of being selfless. Not all of the things I described are pretty and beautiful, but the point is that you get to be someone else. Different than the real you but more or less has the same aspiration and the same way of thinking. Maybe in a dream you get to be more sloppy or have more expression towards your opinion. Maybe in your dream you get to save the world by running around the street with a crate of beer. Maybe you get to be a freaky little girl and scream almost all the time because your bathroom is surrounded by snakes. Maybe you wake up sweating because God knows you’re afraid of frogs and lizards and in your dream, you see just those two animals.

 

In a way… In a really weird way, I think dreams are your form of escape. From the reality of this world-what you don’t have, what you don’t want, what you don’t get a chance to do-into a world who’s very core of existence you create.

House. Not Home

I don’t feel at home when I’m in my house.

 

It’s not a new feeling, but I haven’t been feeling this for quite a while now, and that makes it odd.
Everyone seems like they’re running away.
My sisters don’t want to get out from their room when dad’s already home.
Dad comes home late most of the time, and is gone on the weekends.
Mom is always on the phone.
Me here in front of the laptop thinking about what I should do but don’t actually want to.

 

It’s… weird. To be feeling this after all this time. I feel like I’m running with no direction at all.

The “What Should I Do?” Handguide to Kids. Can I Have One?

The fact that one of my parents is still doing the “silence treatment” to me and my sisters and the other one got caught in the middle really make me want to scream.

 

What The FUCK do you want me to do?

 

Really, to be honest with you, I don’t believe in the Parent philosophy that I was told.

1. Parents are always right
2. If in such occasion they are wrong, see what’s written in number 1.

 

That’s just total BS for me.

 

We have apologized, and now that the treatment’s still going on, I am beginning to despise this shit. I mean, WTH dude? Come on! Grow up and stop acting like such a frickin child!

 

I know my dad loves me. When we went to Bali I was dozing off in the front seat (he’s driving) and I felt his hand stroking my cheek. Before the fight “broke out” that is. The argument also broke out in Bali; thereby making it the worst holiday I’ve ever had.

 

But now that we have already apologized for what we did (which, honest, I still don’t know that we did anything wrong. It’s just his perceptive, I think. But… we apologized anyways) and we try to be casual and he tries to act like we don’t exist.

 

And my mom is stuck in the middle.

 

WTF do you want me to do? PLEASE tell me. And then get over it.