No return, no exchange.

Post nursing school, I knew I have set the ball of destiny rolling. I knew my life would never be the same again.

I told the universe I wanted to get into this career path I have been avoiding since birth (or so it seems), and I did. But it’s always scary when your life’s plans actually start to come true. It’s always nice to dream about what you plan to do with your life; but the moment those dreams start coming true, you know you’ve just hopped on a one-way train to the unknown, and there’s no turning back.

This chosen career path means several things to me. It means I really am committed to staying here for at least the next three or so years of my life. The foundations have been laid. This will be my home base for the next few years. And it was my decision.

It also means that I have defined what I’m going to do for the next decade or so of my life. Unlike my old advertising career which sort of just fell into my lap, this is something I actually chose. I thought about it long and hard. Everyone told me to keep writing, to not “sell out”, but in the end, I followed my gut.

It was no ordinary decision. I’ve just dived into a current, and I don’t know where it’s going to take me.

I can’t help but feel that I’m living real life now. I used to just cruise through life, not caring where it took me. Now I want to know what I’m here for. I want to know what I’m capable of doing, of becoming. Is this what our mid-twenties are all about?

Four years ago, when we were in uni, me and my friends talked only about parties, boys, alcohol, illegal substances, and rock n’ roll. Real life was something that only happened to other people.

Now we talk about three things: career, relationships, and the eternal dilemma of stretching ourselves as far as we can go versus early marriage. I’ve heard it echo from the mouths of so many of my closest female friends: “I want to see the world/ live my youth to the fullest/ see what I’m all about, but I love him and I’m afraid to leave him”. What happened to our reckless teenage years? We used to think we’d never let anything hold us back from conquering the world, and we certainly wouldn’t have let love stand in our way.

That’s another odd thought- I’m actually old enough to get married! I could do it if I wanted to, and my parents would actually take my decision seriously. When you’re young, you can be reckless with love. But at this age, the decisions you make will actually matter in the long run.

When did real life begin?

One thing I’ve learned is that the moment you come close to attaining your dream, another door opens offering you an attractive escape route, a final temptation to remain in the security of your comfort zone forever. What could be more tempting than living the life you’ve always planned, growing old safe and secure in the company of your life-long friends? But this is to test your desire and the strength of your will.

I can almost predict what my life would have turned out to be like had I stayed. I would have continued making a good but unfulfilling living with advertising because the perks are just too good to give up. During my free time, I’d dabble in a bunch of projects, or in whatever I felt like, never mind that none of them will ever really amount to anything. I’d probably never grow up. I’d marry earlier than I planned because it would seem like the sensible thing to do. After all, I had found the love of my life, hadn’t I? (Bahaha) What could be more perfect? Then somewhere along the road, I’ll start asking myself “What if?”. What if I had gone to the States? What if I had bothered to actually see what I can make of myself? But by that time, it will already have been too late to find out.

I probably would have been happy, just because I never bothered to venture outwards and see for myself if there was life outside of what I knew. It would be a happiness by default. Would I have been content? I don’t know. I know I wasn’t right before I left.

Now, here I am in the most uncertain of times. I came here not knowing anything. I’ve gotten by here on guts, and resourcefulness. I’ve started friendships that have yet to pass the test of time. After four years, I still don’t know what’s going to happen to me here, and I get a bit scared when I think of how the next years will change me. I know I will be so different from the person I was when I left. Will there be anything left waiting for me in Manila, the home of my heart?

But demmit, when have I ever felt so alive? I am in the hands of the universe. I laugh, cry, get homesick, feel lost, can’t relate to anything… but when have I ever felt so effin alive?? When else have dreams seemed so possible? When have I ever been so in tune with myself? When have I ever known, with such certainty, what I want to become?

We’re always told that we should live our own lives, but I’ve never actually felt like my life was mine til now. I know it’s mine because I chose for it to be this way. Nobody else decided for me. Nobody forced me to be here.

And I can now declare, that I don’t want my old life back anymore. That was a different phase of my life. I can never bring it back. This is a beginning.

***

I WANT (Yeah. I always get into the habit of making a mental note of what I want in a day cause I can never seem to verbalize it – at least not out loud)

… an hour-long neck, shoulder, and back massage. A HARD massage.

… to lie on the beach for an afternoon with absolutely no agenda other than to relax.

… to go on a long train ride or sit in a park all afternoon just people watching.

… to wander the city with nothing but my camera.

…to catch a really, really good live band in some non-dressy, artsy place, far away from the suburbs, where the vibe is good, the crowd is real, and the beer is cheap. I NEED live music. I need to hear live drums. I need to hear bass. I need to hear singing.

… to eat at a vegetarian resto or at least, some really good Greek pizza.

… a cozy evening of good company and alcohol.

… to watch Burlesque in the cinemas. And Harry Potter. And Black Swan.

… to buy a shitload of new books. I have nothing to read.

… to get out of the effin suburbs!!

really, truly, madly, passionately, remarkably, deliciously, juicily.

Love don’t make things nice, it ruins everything, it breaks your heart, it makes things a mess.  We aren’t here to make things perfect.  Snowflakes are perfect.  The stars are perfect.  Not us.  Not us!  We are here to ruin ourselves and, to break our hearts and love the wrong people and die!  I mean, the storybooks are bullshit!  Now I want you to come upstairs with me, and get in my bed!

 

(Nicholas Cage in Moonstruck, John Patrick Shanley)

Because I don’t think the truth about men can be found in a book.

The real impact is specific.

And I feel like if I can get a few of these men to open up with real stories about their desires and their fears, then I can begin to get answers.

– Okay, and what is it you want answers to?

Well–

– No, I don’t need to know.

But you do.

Every man I fall for drinks his coffee black. “Love” and “hate” are tattooed on his knuckles and my name is on his back.

Every man I fall for works the graveyard shift. He kisses me softly to wake me up and takes my place in bed.

And I fall.

I live with one concern. It’s the law. Diminishing returns. It’s the law. Diminishing returns.

Every man I fall for keeps his anger on a string and holds it tight. When other men walk by blinking their eyes at me, he always pick a fight.

I go walk alone down Ocean Boulevard, peek in your windows. Tired housewives nagging at their husbands.

But is this the life you chose?

And I fall.

I live with one concern. It’s the law. Diminishing returns.

And I fall.

I live with one concern. It’s the law. Diminishing returns.

Every man I fall for, nearly every man…

Every man I fall for –

nearly every man.

***

Existence and life break people in all kinds of awful fucking ways all the time.

Trust me, I know. I’ve been there.

And this is the big difference, you and me here. Because this isn’t about politics or feminism or whatever. For you, this is just ideas.

You’ve never been there.

***

The solution is to realize that today’s woman is in an impossible situation and wants what any human being faced with two conflicting sets of responsibilities is gonna want: a way out.

An escape hatch.

A passionate male.

We want to be overwhelmed with passion.

When we say, “I am responsible for my own sexuality; “I am my own person; I don’t need a man,” what we really are telling you is what we want you to make us forget, which is–

What we’re telling you is what we want you to make us forget.

***

Well, be happy.

Because I don’t care.

I knew s/he could.

And I knew I loved.

End of story.

LOVE is

..is LOVE.

the evolution (january 2010)

It’s fascinating how a certain movie that we’ve seen once, twice, or a gazillion times at one point in our past strangely becomes reality in our present, right before our very eyes. And there’s always this one character, this glamor goddess with the sad eyes and an even sadder story, who we just love to hate mainly because of how she looks and mostly on how she manages to waste that very beauty and everything that’s so excruciatingly perfect about her, trying to get the one thing that she really wants but can never have. We probably would’ve judged her as “the idiot” as that kind of woman that we won’t ever find ourselves to be like in our real lives with real people. And so the movie ends, our lives go on. On and on, never stopping. The movie, the “idiot girl” -all forgotten. And then one day, you get sick. Down with say, the flu or could be just over fatigue, when the body can no longer keep up with the mind.. that sorta thing. So you stay home, overdose on meds, try to will yourself to get better before sundown. Then suddenly in the corner of your eye, you see this old and tattered bootleg copy of that movie with the idiot girl, and you say to yourself, “Well, well, well. What have we here? Man, I love this movie.” And so you watch it. You see her, the idiot girl of your past. You listen more closely to the dialogues, watch her more closely.. And you think to yourself, “Wait a minute. She doesn’t seem so extraordinary now. She seems rather familiar, actually. Can’t quite put my finger on it but she really reminds me of someone..” Then it hits you. Faster than you can press the pause button. The once idiotic girl who seems less extraordinary now.. She reminds you of YOU. She has become you. You have become her. The one character that you promised yourself to never be like in the real world with real people, that glamor goddess with the sad eyes and an even sadder story -you have managed to live her life out as your own, totally oblivious and unaware until now. First stage: DENIAL. No, it can’t be. I can not be that woman. There’s no way I’ve reduced myself to just that. 2nd stage: ANGER. F*ck you (insert name). You make me feel cheap with your kind words. Yet even so, I still oblige. F*ck you for deceiving me so exquisitely. F*ck you for knowing my weakness and being exactly just that. F*CK YOU. 3rd stage: BARGAINING. Just let me be the moth girl. I hate martinis and I really don’t like strappy shoes. So let me be the moth girl. One man’s moth could be another man’s butterfly. 4th stage: DEPRESSION. Light a cig. Take deep drags. Exhale. Silence. Reflect. Write. Write it all out. Document this moment of truth. Let it sting. Let it burn. Let it be fictional. Life is but a dream, anyway. Nothing is real. 5th stage: ACCEPTANCE. Abre los ojos. Open your eyes. Open your eyes. Open your eyes. Open your… You’re awake. Welcome back to your life. No, nothing has changed. You are still you, and everyone else is still everyone else. And the movie? Well, it’s still just a movie. And the idiot girl? Still an idiot but at least now, she’s aware.

Everything starts from awareness.

Beware.

Be aware.

Abre los ojos.

Monet’s “Vanilla Sky”

the city, he loves us (january 2010)

New York City is all about sex. People getting it, people trying to get it, people who can’t get it. No wonder the city never sleeps. It’s too busy trying to get laid.

C: Your girl is lovely, Hubbell.
B: I don’t get it.
C: And you never will.

Ch: Is it safe to buy pot from strangers?
M: They’re not strangers, they’re our new friends with pot!

M : He doesn’t even know me. The least he could do is wait to get to know me before he rejects me.

S: Before I tell you, you have to promise not to judge.
C: Do I judge?
S: We all judge. That’s our hobby. Some people do arts and crafts; we judge.

C: The universe may not always play fair, but at least it’s got a hell of a sense of humor.

Ch: I don’t think she’s a lesbian. I think she just ran out of men.

S: Last night I could not stop thinking about a Big Mac. I finally had to get dressed, go out and pick up a guy.

How we are in bed is how we are in life. I’ve never met a man who was bad in bed but good at life.

S : I’m guessing it’s easier to balance when you’re not smoking.
C: Smoking is the only thing that keeps me balanced.

C: He’s not my boyfriend, he’s just someone I’m trying on.

D: I’m just one of those weird male aberrations who prefers to be married. I like stability, I like routine. I like knowing there’s people waiting for me at home. I guess that makes me sound pretty dull.
M: Are you kidding? You’re the heterosexual holy grail.

I do not pick the wrong guys. They pick me.

C: When I first moved to NY and I was totally broke, sometimes I would buy Vogue instead of dinner. I just felt it fed me more.

C: I’d like to think that people have more than one soulmate.
S: I agree! I’ve had hundreds.
C: Yeah! And you know what, if you miss one, along comes another one. Like cabs.

C: That’s another reason I love New York. Just like that, it can go from bad to cute.

Maybe some women aren’t meant to be tamed. Maybe they just need to run free til they find someone just as wild to run with them.

PS: So ANYA, don’t leave!! KIRSTEN, come back!! Who else would run with me?

waking life (may 2009)

Hey, are you a dreamer?

Yeah.

I haven’t seen too many around lately. Things have been tough lately for dreamers. They say dreaming is dead, no one does it anymore. It’s not dead it’s just that it’s been forgotten, removed from our language. Nobody teaches it so nobody knows it exists. The dreamer is banished to obscurity. Well, I’m trying to change all that, and I hope you are too. By dreaming, every day. Dreaming with our hands and dreaming with our minds. Our planet is facing the greatest problems it’s ever faced, ever. So whatever you do, don’t be bored, this is absolutely the most exciting time we could have possibly hoped to be alive. And things are just starting.

—

I feel like my transport should be an extension of my personality. And this is like my little window to the world… and every minute’s a different show. I may not understand it. I may not even necessarily agree with it. But I’ll tell you what I’ve accepted: just sort of glide along. You want to keep things on an even key, this is what I’m saying. You want to go with the flow. The sea refuses no river. The idea is to remain in a state of constant departure while always arriving. It saves on introductions and goodbyes. The ride does not require explanation – just occupance. That’s where you guys come in. It’s like you come onto this planet with a crayon box. Now you may get the 8 pack, you may get the 16 pack but it’s all in what you do with the crayons – the colors – that you’re given. Don’t worry about coloring within the lines or coloring outside the lines – I say color outside the lines, you know what I mean? Color all over the page; don’t box me in! We’re in motion to the ocean. We are not land locked, I’ll tell you that.

—

On really romantic evenings of self, I go salsa dancing with my confusion.

—

You can have so much damn fun in your dreams. And, of course, everyone knows FUN RULES.

—

What is frustration? Or what is anger or love?
When I say “love,”
the sound comes out of my mouth…
and it hits the other person’s ear,
travels through this Byzantine conduit in their brain,
you know, through their memories of love or lack of love,
and they register what I’m saying and say yes, they understand.
But how do I know they understand? Because words are inert.
They’re just symbols. They’re dead, you know?
And so much of our experience is intangible.
So much of what we perceive cannot be expressed. It’s unspeakable.
And yet, you know, when we communicate with one another,
and we–
we feel that we have connected,
and we think that we’re understood,
I think we have a feeling of almost spiritual communion.
And that feeling might be transient, but I think it’s what we live for.

feast (april 2009)

the time will come
when, with elation,
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror,
and each will smile at the other’s welcome.

and say, sit here. eat.
you will love again the stranger who was your self.
give wine. give bread. give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you.

all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
sit. feast on your life.

-derek walcott