I'm Not Crazy...

But stay a while and maybe then you'll see a different side of me.

I Miss You Not

I do not miss you.

I do not miss you, no matter how unimaginable this may sound to you. I was never lost in your eyes so it was a piece of cake to find my way back. You never let me in so I did not have to let myself out.

I do not miss you. I was not trapped within your little scheme. My laid out plans did not alter a bit because of you. The world never revolved around you. I did not die for a glimpse of your smile.

I do not miss you. You are not as 'missable' as you think you are. There is not a single thing that I miss about you. I was not deeply into you so it was not hard to disengage from your side.

I do not miss you. Sure, I will not forget that you exist. Things may remind me of you. But I will not think about you the way I used to do. You will become a faint, unimportant memory just like how insignificant you have become to me.

Undying Unrequited Admiration

How do you get out of a nine-year infatuation with a person you never really know that well? You are aware that it should come to a stern end. You perfectly get the idea that it is a hopeless shot at love. You have been slapped, kicked and pushed by the truth before that you do not wish for it to happen again.

Yet you seem to keep coming back to where it all began, to where it all heightened to a degree. You sometimes cling to those 'what if's' especially after watching a chick flick. You secretly get a dosage of his whereabouts every now and then. You still sheepishly smile like a 6th grader at the sight of his picture. And scowl at the one of him kissing a girl on the cheek. On the cheek!

But you keep your distance. No more attempts to chat him. No more impulses to send him a 'random' text message. No more enthusiastic birthday greeting. The last time you greeted him, it was ignored which sent your heart wailing. You know better than that now. As a matter of fact, you deleted his number from your contacts already. Or did you put it again?

It is not love, you repeat to yourself. Yes, you define love in a deep, hilarious way. You refuse to call it a 'crush', you say you like him too much. You claim it as an infatuation. Mainly because you die over his chinky eyes. And when he smiles, your heart leaps a little and sends your stomach flipping.

You are not friends with him. He is not one of those people you think of calling when something wonderful happens to you. He doesn't get the privilege to listen to you as you describe your amazing trip to Baguio or how moved you are over a Korean movie you just watched. Your conversation with him starts with 'How are you?' and ends with 'I'm good'. How heartwarming, huh?

There is really nothing special about him but there is no contest between him and those other guys that you got yourself to like. You do not have profound memories with him to recall. He hardly resembles your ideal guy. But you cannot put your admiration to a full stop. He is just irresistibly adorable, you say to your best friends. They shoot you a horrified look every time.

You do not hope for anything concrete anymore. You already gave up the moment he encouraged you to let it go. But sometimes the thought of meeting him again consumes you. You imagine bumping into him at a grocery store, on a holiday. He smiles at you like he always do and you are blinded by the glimmer in his eyes. You feel your heart. How do you get out of it again?

.

I'm so saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad! =((

Let Me Forget

"People always talk about how hard it can be to remember things - where they left their keys, or the name of an acquaintance - but no one ever talks about how much effort we put into forgetting. I am exhausted from the effort to forget. There are things that have to be forgotten if you want to go on living."

-Stephen Carpenter, 'Killer'

Date A Girl Who Reads by Rosemarie Urquico

Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag.  She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilight series.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes.

Good Changes

My beliefs have altered and my opinions have changed. I now love the gloom that the rain brings over my tender heart. I love the rain already and once let it pour over me. I came to realize the power of courtship; I didn't believe in its importance until I took a risk I regretted after. I now see the concept of marriage in a different view than before. I realized that I want to tie the knot someday. My list of standards of what I want in a man has been 'modified'. My wants are now simple. It amazes me that I kind of matured in a short span of time, if you can call that maturity. So, cheers to more realizations and dosage of maturity.

Wondering

There is just one thing I endlessly think of sometimes. If the people who love me could not stand the existence of my abnormality, who else would accept this imperfection of mine?

It Never Began, Anyway

But baby, I already ended it several nights ago. It's absolutely pointless to hold on to something that has no direction at all. Lessons learned. Realizations surfaced. Charge it to experience. I am too smart to dwell on nonsense.

"What doesn't kill you...."

I find it funny that some people, when faced with tough times, hold on to the saying that "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger" when in fact, the person who said it, Friedrich Nietzsche, died of a mental illness. Ironic, isn't it? So maybe the saying should be modified in regard to the tragedy of Nietzsche's life. It should be "What doesn't kill you makes you insane". Hah.

"Un-me"

"You want to play twenty-four hours a day?"

"Or watch. I just want not to be me. Whether it's playing video games or riding my bike or studying. Giving my brain up. That's what's important."

-Ned Vizzini, "It's Kind of a Funny Story"

My Iterax Affair

Having anxiety disorder is certainly not something I am proud to tell a story or two about. I do not want people to think less of me. I do not want them to see me as a mentally ill person. I do not want to give them the idea that I am not capable of living normally. But sometimes I feel like I have a need to tell people about my condition. I want them to understand why I do certain things and why I refuse to grab some opportunities that go along my way. Anxiety cripples, terrorizes and imprisons my whole being. It is a traitor in the middle of the night that wakes me up from a dream only to experience nightmare.

I feel so helpless at times because people around me disregard that I am in need of professional help. I am sometimes sick of their denials and ignorance. I find it stupid when people order me to snap out of it like it is an ugly t-shirt I can easily get out of. I did not choose to be like this. It's just that it is more likely for me to have it than most people I know. I am naturally hypersensitive and gets affected even by the most trivial things. I am prone to anxiety and depression.This is why I want a job or a romantic relationship, anything that will serve as my diversion. I believe that  if I have other things on my mind, I will not be infested with senseless thoughts which eventually lead to panic attacks. This is why I sometimes long for amnesia even though it sounds idiotic for other people.

During my episodes of anxiety attacks, I am always overwhelmed with guilt because I am not what my parents deserve to have. I feel like a broken appliance which is not working properly every time my family look at me with puzzled expressions on their faces. And I am certain that we both wonder the same thing: why I ended up like this. If I could just tell my brain to stop over thinking, I would. If that is the only way for them to stop worrying about me, I would. If I could just lose memories by constantly banging my head in cement, I would. If that is the only way I could attain peace of mind, I would.  But it is a struggle to control my mind sometimes.


It really brings me relief and comfort when I think of all the other people who are also suffering from anxiety disorder. It kind of makes the massive weight easy to bear. It makes me hope that although I have issues, I too can still continue living like the rest. And persevere to be on the side of "normalcy".

Changing Habits

I've been here before and I'm here once more.

Let me abandon my feelings for you.

I'll be waiting for you no more.

And perhaps for someone else.

Someone not like you at all.

Sadness in Everything

It's the dreary feeling on a Monday morning.
It's missing friends who always seem miles away.
It's the raging sound of the rain on the rooftop.
It's the undependableness of friends.
It's the heartbreaking color of the sky when the sun is setting.
It's not doing anything worthwhile.
It's the sight of an airplane in the sky.
It's the uncertainty that hangs in every word.
It's deciding not to take the risk with someone.
It's the smell of nostalgia on a drab afternoon.
It's missing a deceased loved one.
It's in the old songs and tear-jerking movies.
It's being undecided on what you want to do.
It's in the plans that never happened.
It's being terrified of almost everything.
It's not having someone you can call your own.
It's sadness, in different angles.

Irony

Someone told me to stop crying already.
I wept even more.

Fleeting

Stay away.
Say your goodbyes.
Cut your ties with me.
You will be fine in time.
Let's not choose to be friends.
It will always end up like this anyway.
Feelings, momentary, short-lived, easy to forget.

Pulling Me From The Other Side

My mother wouldn't permit me to claim my rights for depression. She wouldn't tolerate my emotional outbursts and episodes of self-pity. She wouldn't allow me to lose clarity during my panic attacks. I am grateful to her for rescuing me from insanity every single time. But I am sometimes tormented by her walls of denial.

Need I Say More?

Unemployed.
Neurotic.
Pimple infesting my face.
Trepidation.
Getting fatter and fatter.
Panic attacks.
Weeping my heart out.
Depression.

Back To You

You remain to be the object of this deepest fondness through all these years.
I ought to abandon this hopeless affection for you which only render me misery.
I drown every time in this unrequited admiration that I cannot haul, I cannot pull out.
And no matter what, it will always leave me on the thread of hope, on the hills of daydreams, on the edge of pangs.

I love you the most but sometimes the most injurious words come out of your mouth at the most inappropriate time. Why do you have to play with my mind and ruin the decisions I have chosen for my life? Just this once, please let me be.

They're In Love, Where Am I?

Hahaha! This song is so 'ugh'! :DD

Take My Heart Away (A Different Tune)

It's not like Cupid had hit me with his arrow
But your eyes, the way they glimmer when you smile
They make my heart twinge, twisting it unhurriedly
A discomforting pain yet an ache I will gladly bear

My feelings flutter, dancing with your glances
Swaying, waltzing with each step you take
All around me is a haze I long and long to linger more
And music starts to play, a music only I can hear.

Hoops of Hope

I wish for two little things.
One is a love that is genuine, requited and which stands without confusion and much complexities.
The other is for me to find that love in you.

Desperado

I don't know why but this brings a pang in my heart every single time. :|

A Baffled Heart

It is when attachment blossomed somewhere between the late-night calls and hearty conversations that you began to weigh things. It is when you actually expect someone to reply to your messages and remember you everyday despite the fact that you are not in the position to demand from him since you do not have a relationship. Even though he claims to have his heart in your hand and your fondness for him is there, you hesitate to take the risk and cross the line because you keep on waiting for someone else to come along, someone much closer to your idea of perfection.

This is, for me, the loneliest part of not being in a relationship since birth.

Of Leaving and Being Left Behind

Even with the knowledge that life is a never-ending process of constant changes and moving on's, I still, with my sufficient understandings, do not comprehend why every single moment has to be heartbreaking. I had let opportunities pass because of my fear of abandoning ties. I threw away chances because I dread the moment when I had to watch the people who are dear to me from distances and distances away how their lives altered in many ways.

However, I, too, have to disengage from familiar harbors because even with my presence around them, their lives had shaped into many forms I cannot always keep track of. I stumbled upon a realization that I should not move and glide to the tune of their musics. That it is not wise to live on memories. I cannot always depend every trivial nor life-changing decisions on them. There will always be choices to make, paths to take and hearts to break.

And yet I am not the type of person who can get used to things in a snap of a finger. It takes time for me move on with whatever is left of what I abolish. I mourn for changed plans, forgotten promises and lost yesterdays. I break the rule by crying over spilled milk. My sentimentality often wins over my logic.

My heart twinges whenever I think of the distances and boundaries that life offers. Of the inevitable separations that have to take place. Of people slowly drifting away, way beyond our grasps. Sometimes I wonder if growing old is synonymous to growing apart. And if, with all the means we gather, we can bridge the gaps that seem to expand even more with playful time.

Hush, Little Girl

Hush, little, girl!
Stifle thy cries!
They art listening still.
The rebellion of emotions inside thee,
Although it makes thee writhe,
Thou shalt not illustrate it in thy eyes.
Hush, little girl!
Let no one hear thy lamentations!
Repress it! Repress thy raging feelings!
For they refuse to understand.
Oh! Disappointment!
Thee wouldst only be afflicted with it.
Hush, little girl!
Remember that thee art not so little anymore.

- A poem that I wrote during those times of my 'rebellion'.

Ughs and Arghs

As melodramatic as this may seem, I am lost. I am lost and indecisive, fickle and inconsistent. I feel like a piece of newspaper, being blown by the wind, directionless. For the nth time, I do not know what to do again. It's getting exasperating to contemplate on things and decide for myself. REALLLLLLLLLY. It may be normal but it drives me to the edge of sanity. Deciding for 'career' and everything, that is. Plus, the sometimes depressing absence of a romantic relationship in my life. I know, this is hilarious but there are just times when I wonder and wonder and wonder if I'll ever be in love. Being single is fun but there are those moments of suffering on my part when I see couples one after another and I feel extremely plain and unattractive just because I don't have what they have. The downsides of being picky and idealistic, yes. I've realized that it is hard to be a young adult where opportunities are many, the world is within your reach and yet, too many walls are building around you. And whatever decisions you make, they will always be criticized. =/

I'm growing old, and not growing up.