bipolar saturday

i finally made the connection. there's a pattern after all, between my sleepless nights and all the events that lead up to it. first is that thought. then comes the restlessness. then comes the binging. then the nail-biting (i know. it's an old, bad habit). then for sure.... it will be 4am and i'll be in my dark room, watching the nat geo channel, hoping to tire myself out and have some semblance of slumber before "waking" for work a few hours later.

first, the thought.

it crept up upon me all of a sudden, typical really of such despicable things. it was a quiet day at work and i had already finished all the tasks delegated to me. i was in the process of turning my attention to my design work when, i guess, during the shift, i found myself lingering on that thought, memories and emotional residue as i term them. it started with a look, then an introspection, then before i knew it, i was simmering already in hurt. that was when i felt the bitter aftertaste.

it's never easy to be honest to oneself, or so i think. it's never comfortable to acknowledge that you're actually not ok, when all this time you have been convincing yourself that you are fine. you spend so much time trying to convince yourself that you are strong and you are unaffected, even indifferent. you believe this and for a time, really feel like you are swell... then moments like this come along and prove that you have been wrong all this time. repression used to work for me, that was until my physical body decided enough is enough. i get lethargic despite having long sleep. i break out in lesions and bleed. my appetite gets depressed. my endurance runs low. i get fevers every night. i suffer severe insomnia.

i would think i have been a creature raised to lick and tend to his own wounds. i somehow have this impression that it is shameful to show one's weaknesses. the world is a vicious place and despite my meek demeanor, i act on a quiet aggressiveness to achieve perfection, or at least, the image of it, in order to survive. it's tiring work, exhausting me often to the last of my stores. you try to ease on yourself but that program has been ingrained far too deep to allow you to slack off, even if you hear yourself screaming for help already. i would like to think that people, good, kind people, sense this conflict in me, and their kindness would often reach out. i however, fail to connect with them, worse yet, even shun the offers for help and instead muster a misleading, faint smile. it satisfies the need to think that i am ok and in need need of assistance, but it also hints on my true, crippled state.

(sigh)

ayoko na ng ganito.

hurting is a familiar feeling. but it should not be the only feeling. healing should be a feeling i should know as well.

i felt cheated, but it was due to my own foolishness. i have inner resentment, but it's just me passing the blame. this is the price of wisdom. this is what it feels to reinforce and build character.

i had a great conversation with two very good people last night. one over YM, the other through texting. one providing an inflow, the other an outflow. both of which were enriching to the soul. to these two, thank you very much.

* * * * *

found this in chuvaness and made me happy and teary at the same time.

the misadventures of polar thoughts of an arctic mind

Listening to “panis angelicus” now, while struggling with the ill-effects of sleeplessness despite the previous day’s activities and fatigue. I am at work now and yet my mind is clearly somewhere else. The crocs from the previous days are still here and pestering us, hence, operations are still not back to normal but we’re trying to manage. Hopefully, our stubbornness to give in to corrupt intimidation would be enough to supersede these detestable people’s drive for greed.

Since I am floating right now and experiencing some degree of disinhibition, as how I am often after a night of severe insomnia, I might as well give in to the narrative, as well as the unfiltered insights I have drawn thereof, of these things that are swimming in my head, mostly concerning yesterday’s activities.

I was invited to attend an art exhibit along pasong tamo yesterday. Its been a long time since I have been to one, my last being back still when I was in dubai. I would love to say that I enjoy going to these exhibits since I just love appreciating art. It is just, however, that I get extremely conscious whenever I am at these events due to the type of people they attract, i.e., the uber rich and cultured people. Not that I am saying that I find the company of these people disagreeable, just that it brings out an insecurity I have in me of being, well, not up to par, as far as these people’s level of appreciation is concerned. It’s very irrational I know but such is still the case. I recall I had the same feeling back when I was in dubai. My good friend and equally art-enthusiastic best bud, leni, would make me come along to these exhibits and as she gets more comfortable hob-nobbing, I, in contrast get more detached and reclusive. Despite all efforts to relax, my body language unfortunately betrays my true state. This gets worse especially if I cannot seem to relate to the art I am viewing, thereby, having nothing to distract me from my growing uneasiness.

I have tried to understand why I get these bouts of self consciousness sometimes and have tried to convince myself that there is no harm looking stupid or utterly ignorant during these events, since, more often than not, art aficionados are eccentrics and would really not give a damn about you, unless, well, you trump their eccentricity! Ok, I’m deviating now. HAY BASTA, yesterday, as I drove up the venue’s driveway and parked beside chauffeured sedans with consulate plates, all I could think about is that I felt so under dressed and that I thank my lucky stars I was driving the “prettier” car. I know, I really should learn how not to give a damn as well. Anyway, to my new found friend, salamat sa invite. Hoping for future art viewing and also hoping, I’ll be more focused on the art rather than the people there next time :)

On a totally different note, may I just say, I truly dislike tactless people. Also social climbers. Also those who get themselves caught in their own delusion and convince themselves that they are more than what they are. In this age of self-empowerment and unabashed, unmerited encouragement, I guess, some people just feel that the world is up for their taking and that it would eventually succumb to their drive and sense of entitlement. You build yourself up to be something, just to be more “palatable” to the people you want to infiltrate, convinced that by doing so, you will be accepted and thereby, share in their also borrowed glory. Tsk, tsk, tsk, immature and naïve child, is all I am going to say. You will soon see how the world works. the game of natural selection is a cruel and unforgiving one, and unless you are built with materials of true substance and not that of imaginary and vain fluff, then I am afraid, you will not survive the test of fire. I would invest in cultivating a more secure and well-grounded person now, if I were you. It should definitely be worth more your while then this needless pursuit for popularity. Be aware that at such a tender age, because of your misguided efforts, you are already gathering more enemies that even a grown man would have difficulty in handling.

In like light, may I just say that, grown men need not be so mindful of petty quips that should only elicit a reaction from children. There are more important issues to be concerned about really, more important than reacting to differences in opinion.

I have learned a few bits of wisdom these past few days, from the recent occurrences that have transpired in this so-so life of mine. There are people with malicious intent that walk in our midst; it helps to develop a keen sense for these people, to be wary of them, lest you give them fuel to feed upon and opportunity for them to sow their unfavorable seeds. In the moments wherein encounters with these people are unavoidable, however, a dutiful person would set them right and expose the errors of their ways. Then again, maybe I should just lay quiet and still and just learn not to give a damn.

while passing tayuman

isn't it a burden, i asked,
to wear a robe made of stone?
hewed from the cleft of the rock;
and chiseled to cover your nakedness.

it must bear heavily, i thought,
down on your delicate shoulders;
dragging on your beautiful hair;
clinging tightly on your fragile frame.

yet in your effortless poise, i marveled,
even if draped in a concrete prison.
you stood unwavering, smiling, statuesque,
looking most transcendent in your disposition.