paganpoetry

I will go through folders I made at one time or another, and find little writings, surely intended parts of journal entries - beginnings, middles and endings - scattered all over my hard drive. Here's one of many:

This evening, I was running with my hair down excited about my recent discovery that the track oval in the park had place markers. Cool, assessment time! I found out the whole track spans 3,300m. I ran three times around the perimeter, almost 10 km for two hours, which is not bad, average pre-law school speed. I used to do 6.6 km in under 40 minutes, surely logged in my "Hell Yeah!" notebook somewhere.

So anyway, I was running with my hair down and I passed this woman in a ponytail with a toy poodle going at about the same speed as I was. I ran past her for a time and when she caught up with me, I noticed she had put her hair down as well. Her dog went around me, I sort of played with it a bit. The woman smiled at me. That was one of those odd kindness of strangers moments. Those always happen to me for some reason. Maybe because I do smile a lot.

--

My brain needs to exhale for a bit.

Wow, livejournal is 10 years old. And my baby journal is going to turn 8 in November. This made me think: Jesus, I have been geeking out in the interwebs for ages. Do you remember dial-up? It used to take me an hour to download a three-minute song over at winmx or mirc. And I downloaded A Lot of songs. I'll do the math on the hours later. Life before google? My old high school organic chemistry report on the wonders of Aspirin with nothing but internet sources just to prove a point? I got a 97 on that, whatup (an A, Americans.) Man, I have been a dork for way too long. I remember getting very excited at finding out that yahoo means yet another hierarchical officious oracle, and actually knowing what an oracle is.

But I'm glad I found a bigger dork. /jinx-unjinx

"I know that you're tired of waiting, and you may have to wait a little while more.
But she's on her way Ted. And she is getting here as fast as she can."

- Stella to Ted, How I Met Your Mother 04.23

Not to be the repository of everything cheesy, but this line kind of hit home.

Four a.m. and I wake up to "Amsterdam" playing in iTunes.

Listening to Coldplay reminds me of specific desires of the heart. My heart, that is.

"Stood on the edge, tied to a noose;
You came along and you cut me loose."

How lovely is it to be cut loose, finally? I've always thought this song speaks of just bare truths. I may not necessarily relate to everything, but they wrote it in such a way that honesty resonates in the entire song, you feel the chill to your bones.

Oh wow, and then "Warning Sign," starts. "When the truth is, I miss you. And I'm tired. I shouldn't have let you go." He sings this so beautifully, too, and ends with, "So I crawl back into your arms..." which just paints the most tender mental image you can imagine.

Hm. So I am a homo about love songs and poetry. Deal with it.

I want to be a photographer.

It is Monday and it is raining and the morning is looking as glum as a gray photo. But I want to take that photo. I want my camera strap around my neck, to walk around and snap away.

Anner and I had been planning to co-author a blog of writing and illustrations. We started with the idea of "Oh well, papel," which was before a whole chapter of things-going-a-certain-positive-way started happening. We were ready to be bitter but funny bitter. Now I think I owe a bunch of people some cheesecake and Anner owes me a big burger, really. But we will still try a shot at funny. After all, life is funny. One night you can find yourself sitting across a Polish guy talking about being left wing, and that you should not be uncomfortable with that and then you saying that Mao Zedong is your homeboy and getting a blank stare. It is hilarious, this life. Or maybe you will be beside your French friend who requests for subtitles for conversations because he does not have the faculty to understand English tonight. Ah, life. I may just have to live past 50, I think.

Oh, but no, why not? over at wordpress. Nothing's there just yet.

"That day, the Dead Duck Day, was when it all began."
- Marcus, About a Boy

Six months ago, around this time.
I have come to see life as a comic, failures as opportunities, uncertainties as foundations for all sorts of possibilities, duck as a prelude to awesome.

I grew up on 64-color crayola boxes in a house with a terrace.
I don't know how harsh reality could be and really I am terrified to find out.

But you can't run away from all things. I look at the abyss and the abyss looks back at me. This is the staring game. And all I can say is "bring it." I am not brave, I just don't have a choice.

One and two and... time's up.

I loved about New York:

() Seeing the lovely skyline going into the island

() Stopping at Battery Park to sit and watch children rollerblade, and across the tiny Liberty; Random thought was Ginsberg's Howl: "who chained themselves to subways for the endless/ride from Battery to holy Bronx on benzedrine" as confirmed by Wikipedia.

() Bon Chon chicken wings, frozen flavored soju, Shake Shack and linty coats because of linty mittens

() Random slow-swaying at Union Square Park amidst skaters

() Getting high and brain being faster than mouth talking about not being best in French

() Gossip Girl night at Park Avenue Winter and getting featured in http://guestofaguest.com/galleries/album696/36263/

() St. Paddy's: Tying a perfect bow tie for the first time, car bombs, Irish pub-hopping, getting trapped in an elevator at the How I Met Your Mother bar (McGee's) with Guinnesses and then watching a waitress quit her job as soon as we got out

() Jambalaya + cornbread + mac n' cheese - me being bad at wii night

() Deuce, hookah and big ass burritos at Chipotle

() Crossing the Brooklyn Bridge filled with Grimaldi's pizza and red wine and almost coming to blows with a cyclist

() Awesome, awesome pictures in bed: http://www.picturesinbed.com

() Impromptu dancing with hipsters and babies somewhere in Central Park

() Kissies, etc.

And I could go on. I really did ♥ NY.

Watanabe: I'm not sure that has anything to do with love.

Midori: It does. You just don't know it. There are times in a girl's life when things like that are incredibly important.

Watanabe: Things like throwing strawberry shortcake out the window?

Midori: Exactly. And when I do it, I want the man to apologize to me. 'Now I see, Midori. What a fool I've been! I should have known that you would lose your desire for strawberry shortcake. I have all the intelligence and sensitivity of a piece of donkey shit. To make it up to you, I'll go out and buy you something else. What would you like? Chocolate mousse? Cheesecake?'

Watanabe: So then what?

Midori: So then I'd give him all the love he deserves for what he's done.

Watanabe: Sounds crazy to me.

Midori: Well, to me, that's what love is. Not that anyone can understand me, though. For a certain kind of person, love begins from something tiny or silly. From something like that or it doesn't begin at all.

- "Norwegian Wood," Haruki Murakami

This reminds me of a favorite quote by Mario Puzo. The one that says, how I would like it now that sheer falling in love with externals, a love that is never earned by qualities of goodness, of wit, of character, of life force (or something like that), so I will never have to keep earning it, or work for it. I think it is a decision untrammeled by fear and cowardice, and in fact, independent of whatever the object does. The idea is I love you whether you like it or not. It is certain and unwavering, once decided. It is a 1. It is a yes, and an always.

Walking to the office with Damon Albarn going:

"Lord I need to find someone who can heal my mind
Come on, come on, come on
Get through it...
I'm waiting for that feeling
Waiting for that feeling
Waiting for that feeling
To come..."


Too much overbearing emotions: with the results nearing (or as per B, "resluts") (some say Wednesday, by the way), 21 days, one single week and everything riding on that, and a decision on challenge to draft -- I need to breathe, get away from all the noise and finally get on the several moratoria I have been setting for myself but have not gotten around doing.

Epic heartbreak.

That is what awaits me after this.
I just want you to know that I know this and I'm still going through it, because I think it is fucking worth it.

Try assigning an intrinsic value to all things you do. Let's say, reading a book. I like reading a book because I like how words can express scenarios, feelings, thoughts. Reading transports you to an alien place and tries to connect with your consciousness. That alone I'd say is worth sitting down 2 hours a day to read maybe about 50 pages, more or less, depending on distractions. I think it is worth the while.

And then there's talking to your friends. That could take hours. But you get to find out how they have been. You get updated with their lives. You don't see them very often (or not at all in some cases), but once upon a time you hanged out a lot, practically had interlocking lives and had been part of each other's every day. So you spend about 3 or 4 hours at night, or maybe on a weekend just talking to your friends online. It strengthens interpersonal relations, you get to affirm that you are not an ass, that people care about you and that you care about people. You get to mentally check that box that says, "will probably not die alone (probably) - if could dial bunny's number before suffocating." I think escaping from your mind to talk to people once in a while is worth it.

There are simple one-to-one things like going to work will make you money, taking a shower will make you not repulsive to society in general, eating a meal will keep you alive and functioning, and sleeping will prevent you from being in a weird daze all day.

I am just saying, do not think that I am not fully aware of the consequences of going through this particular thing. How I assess its worth though is a matter too dark to be comprehensible. Let's just say it makes me feel good enough to put off my natural tendency to bail from certain doom. Picture a ten-wheeler truck fast approaching my direction, to which I would say, "hey maybe the period between seeing the truck from afar and it hitting me is 10 seconds well spent." You get to experience the best adrenaline rush, reflect while your whole life passes before your eyes, these sort of things. I know the future is uncertain if not nil. I am not that naive to expect anything more. Understandably, heartbreak is a given. And to that I will give time, the rest of the year if you will. The goal is to rise above the shittiest of feelings, breathe deeply to be able to say, "Hey, honey, how you've been?" with a fucking smile.

"Drink up, baby, stay up all night
With the things you could do, you won't but you might
The potential you'll be that you'll never see
The promises you'll only make
Drink up with me now and forget all about
The pressure of days, do what I say
And I'll make you okay and drive them away
The images stuck in your head
People you've been before that you don't want around anymore
That push and shove and won't bend to your will
I'll keep them still..."
- Between the Bars, Elliott Smith

There is something to be said about depending on somebody to make you okay. It may not be your style, it is not what you do; you are an independent icon of womanhood. You exist quite very well on your own. But who doesn't want to be taken care of? Quiet down, rest your head and breathe. You're alright.

Now see how the heavens are doing amazing things:


The moon passes in front of the sun, during a partial solar eclipse, as it sets over Manila Bay, in the Philippines on January 26, 2009. (REUTERS/Romeo Ranoco)

New Lunar Year. Somehow I'm feeling a fresh sense of beginning.

I used to run a lot back in the university. At first it was to try the Chungking Express solution to sadness: drain your body off all its water so you won't have any left for tears. And then it became something I really love doing minus the dorkiness, always with some music, sometimes with a friend or two (in which case it becomes a challenge of maintaining a conversation and catching your breath.)

There's this point along the 10k route in U.P. called Heartbreak Hill. You reach it after running some 7 kilometers on to the last leg of that route. It is a paved hill path that is about a 30-45 degree slope. Crossing the hill, you have two choices: either you cross it really, really fast, in which case it is over in under a minute but your heart would feel like it would literally explode; or you save your breath, slow down and suffer through it longer. Trust me, I am not making this up for the sake of a good metaphor.

It is kind of exciting to discover a park down the road from my apartment with a paved track oval. People actually run in Singapore. Although I suspect it is because of some pre-programmed chip in their systems telling them to stay fit otherwise the health police will come and get them. I doubt anybody runs because of Takeshi Kaneshiro.

--

On an unrelated note, maybe I should finally download the lj client. I have been doing my html old school-style, and it's getting really, really annoying to google search the codes whenever I forget them. Like for instance, how the f do I make a table again?

"You know, I believe if there's any kind of God, it wouldn't be in any of us. Not you, or me... but just this little space in between. If there's any kind of magic in this world, it must be in the attempt of understanding someone, sharing something. I know, it's almost impossible to succeed, but who cares, really? The answer must be in the attempt."

- Céline, Before Sunrise

Lately, there has been a lot of highs to the point of improbability. Somehow it feels all twilight zone-y: as if you are going to get stabbed in the back at some alley when you are least expecting it. And that is where the problem lies. Nobody wants unpleasant surprises. But the correct approach I believe is to treat heartbreak as an inevitability. People get hurt, even I am not immune to that. Who cares, really? The magic, as quoted, is in the attempt. I think whatever misery awaits me in the end should be worth it. What other worthwhile things can one do in this life but to love and laugh? Be in the moment, always. I truly believe that. Heartaches and tears will come and go (easily with some alcohol), but the happiness you felt connecting with someone should stay with you and make you hopeful for what more this life has to offer.

I can be such a big optimist, yes, and a shame to the club of Angry Chicks, Inc. But this is not optimism, properly speaking, just good mood, I guess and whatever, it is the New Year, man, you gotta lighten up.

Turning 25 made me feel obligated to look back at my life and look forward (basically, a lot of looking I felt should be done.) I have never planned to live a grand life, high-rolling, buying unimaginably expensive things. I just wanted something new, constantly. From the very beginning -- recall fond memories of my favorite Childcraft book called "Places to know," -- all I know is I wanted to see the world and meet all sorts of people, the kind ones, the ones who want to know you as well. To date, I have not really done much seeing. I can blame the unreasonably (or pointlessly) long quaternary education that I subjected myself to but in the end, I think it was a lack of will on my part. For me, somehow things always seemed to fall into their respective places, I thought I didn't need much doing. I was such a big fatalist, it will make Nietzsche turn in his grave.

Certain events this crazy year changed me quite a bit. To begin with, I finished law school. Four more years after four previous years of Political Science, I am a far cry from my sixteen year old self. I still listen to Blur, yes. But I no longer want to write a thesis about early Eminem's songwriting. But finishing law school involved a whole lot of doing, too much at some point. To the point of wanting to quit, at some point ("at least before it quits on me," was my frequent thought.) It kind of became my whole life, which was never really the case back in Polsci. Before, I had French, I had philosophy classes (metaphysics, phenomenology and existentialism, philosophy of science, language, logic), I had film photography, I had mountaineering, I had goddamn Fine Arts majors as friends. I had a huge crush on a Triathlete who was taking up Applied Physics. I was sitting in on Mathematical Physics classes such as Statistics of Rigid Bodies. I was watching all kinds of indie films being shown at the film center and Eduardo Noriega was a god. Law school happened and my life kind of folded upon itself. I did meet some of the best people I have ever known, I laughed the heartiest laughs, and somehow retained my concept of self, albeit with much struggle.

And then I went through the bar. I have dedicated many a disgruntled journal entry unto the ordeal and to save you and myself the trip down horrible lane, let's just say, I've done it, it's over, waiting is hell whenever one remembers. What taking the bar did for me though is akin to a near death experience. It made me want to do stuff, just do stuff, you know?(Maybe you wouldn't know, dear anonymous journal reader, but I do expect a lot from you.)

I took a job offer outside the country and just jumped in the water without knowing how deep it would be. So far I am still in the shallow end, career-wise. But as I said, I never really wanted to earn millions. I just want to go everywhere, anywhere.

I have long decided that I would rather not live past 50. With that in mind, at 25, I am in my mid-life and I Seriously Need To Do More Shit.

People are persistently asking me to make one. Yeah, because I am adored by most; that is my wooden leg. So, in the interest of consumerism (I am in Singapore, after all), I would like the following material proof of your love for me:

(1) A boyfriend watch (Minus the watch? Lol. I'm serious -- http://www.unusualthreads.com/boyfriendwatch.html. Apparently it's all the rage, just ask Oprah. I want a brown and frosted silver one.)

(2) Bath and Body Works Body Spray in Warm Vanilla Sugar (Because sometimes we need to smell like pastry.)

(3) Crumpler camera bag in basic black (My camera bag ripped in places that made it unacceptable to be taken out in public.)

(4) Plane ticket to NY for March (This IS a wishlist, after all.)

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(5) Oh, plus tickets to The Ting Tings on Big Night Out at Fort Canning this coming January!