by
Tuesday, November 09, 2010
10
palagay
di na naman in-edit
home sweet home
pensive bottles
people are people
the few things i hold on to
From the nowhere I used calling home, I wandered the streets trying to hide the evidence of a word fight with the righteous person inside the house. There were a lot that day for me to bear. And sometimes, to save your sanity, things should be half remembered.
This is what passes when a boy grew up and finally becomes a man.
Sometimes, I wonder why I could only write when I am sad. Maybe, just maybe, it is because all that I should only write is what is profound. So forgive me, bored readers.
All I want was to be happy that day. Just that. To visit the long gone parent, to remember. On mornings when you just arrived from call whoring, you do not have enough energy to shout or to complain. I am never good at fighting so I never start one. I just slip away if necessary. So I do not start a fight. All I want is to be happy that day. To remember. Very simple. I want to be happy.
Once I complained to Kane why some people could hoard happiness. I just really wish happiness is tattoo- ever there, black and permanent.
I only want company with them, no things more than that. If a brother refuses company because he will visit the grave the next week with his girlfriend, fine. But if a father tells you he does not want to come because he does not believe to the teachings of the church about the dead and that he prefers watching action movies, fuck. That's when you start to fire the first war shot. You can do many things when you are mad. I only did two things. I rant and cried. More often than not, we rarely use proper reason and argument with people close to your heart. Because we use our heart so you may only hurt them much.
That was what happened. That was not planned.
Good thing friends are always handy- ready to accompany you anywhere, any time of the day, where a single family member would not dare to join you.
Pictures, they say, make us remember. I only remember how angry and pitiful I was to myself for the very first time.
When I grow up. Swear. I will never be like you.
From where I am sitting right now, there is neither a bottle of beer or a cup of coffee. Maybe, just maybe, I missed the train on platform nine and three quarters.
Sometimes, happiness is cheap. And sometimes, even with all the savings you have, you do not know if you can ever afford it.
10 palagay:
Ang lungkot. Ang lungkot-lungkot.
:-(
*Hugs, Yas*
We cannot choose our family. And no family is without problems. Some maybe more adept at masking it, others prefer the indifference and arrogance of denying it is there. Despite what we say, or how much we are disappointed, by how our family affects the lives we live, in the end, they still are our own flesh and blood.
I am not saying that what transpired made sense or that there's validity in the transgression. Acceptance is not conceding.
Maybe it was fated that you visit her in solitude, maybe she wanted you there by yourself. So you can have your time with her, intimate and alone. Just for you two.
Would it have been better if you had them go with you? When their hearts spelled otherwise? I think not. In the end, we make do with what we have, and what little time we have on this plane.
That each action may have meaning, and each emotion leading to wisdom.
Wish I could've accompanied you. But I'm sure your friends were handy and willing to keep you company.
Happiness is a choice Yas. A daily one we have to commit to.
very emotional. remember that you can draw happiness from anything. look at the bright side. God is always with you.
i could have done worse if i were in your shoes and he was my father. for chrissake, she was his wife, and you, their son.
for whatever this is worth, i hope you had a great time visiting her.
asa makati lang ako. inom tayo minsan. XD
Maybe you can try asking him to visit on some other day aside from that "prescribed or taught by the Church"? That might really tell you what his motives are...
I know you're strong. Keep safe.
kaya mo yan yas, pasensya ka na sa nangyari last time. lam ko wala akong kwenta. sana mapatawad mo po ako.
Who heals the broken hearted, you say? No one. Nice, comforting thought, isn't it?
"Sometimes, happiness is cheap. And sometimes, even with all the savings you have, you do not know if you can ever afford it."
:'(
speechless for i feel the same way now. it's hard when all you want is to be happy, and it's just hard. :(
Yas Jason, hijo mio:
You're not alone.
When I was your age, I also thrived in loneliness. When I say loneliness, I mean – being alone at most times, but not being sad. I deliberately pursued loneliness.
Why? I didn't know then.
I still don't know the reason even now. But, in my teenage years, loneliness was my SHABU, my VODKA, my COCAINE, my HEROIN.
Yes, I was totally addicted to it.
And it made me feel good, so good inside.
Masochism, perhaps? Maybe.
Over-sentimental, perhaps? Possibly.
Born to be alone, perhaps? We can't discount that.
Even if it sounded as if nothing positive would come from loneliness, it's actually not so.
Being lonely, it helped me grow up emotionally. It gave me the opportunity to introspect more often. It made me aware of my weaknesses and my strengths as a person. It made me appreciate other people more, accept them as what they are, and tried my best not to judge them.
What's good about being lonely is that one is not distracted at all. It would give him enough space to think and explore life. I was in a quiet corner, a bedroom, perhaps, staring out the window, observing – while the whole world roared outside.
Now, on quiet moonlit nights, I would usually stroll in a park or by a lake, and sometimes, to have time with my thoughts, I would drive to an empty soccer field, lie down on the hood of my suv and watch the full moon. Then, I would reminisce my teenage years and sunsets and moonlit nights I had witnessed in loneliness.
It felt good then, and it feels good now.
It's good to be lonely. It makes you a stronger person.
Welcome to the club. Let's invite more members...
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