Me, Myself and Serenity

After the hurly-burly of our Business Review week comes the delicious meltdown...joke, I mean SLOW DOWN (to the unfamiliar, our world revolves around acing the BR presentation during this week). The calmness after the storm.

I’ve been waiting for this moment. I’ve made plans...or to be more precise, I didn’t make plans. I unconsciously freed myself from any weekend getaways, family obligations or the shadows of my work. I haven’t been this “vacant” in a long time.

My weekend bag is packed. The Do-Not-Disturb mask is in mint condition.

I have downloaded the latest Keane CD so I can just soak in their tuneful lamentations and sarcastic world-weariness. I have also retrieved the OST of Garden State. Music in between dreams.

I have queued two DVDs that I have longed to watch in long time. One is a light romantic drama similar to How I Met Your Mother, which was highly recommended by a colleague. Maybe, I will definitely watch it (there goes your clue). The other is an Academy Award-winning sardonic drama revolving around a teenage pregnancy... and witty verbal intercourse.

If time will be so kind, then I will also breeze through the pages of the latest Anita Shreve novel I bought. Shreve’s sombre prose is sure to quiet what rage is inside of me.

The old me is back, the one that is wary of social encounters. It’s just me and my escapist multi-media allies, languishing in my safe, make-believe bubble.

So excuse me while I go vegetate.


***

To the “unfeeling”, don’t push me to spell it out for you. I will go where I want to and I will volunteer myself if I want to. And there are many things I don’t want anymore. Once bitten, twice shy. So I really hope you will get it.

Go practice your wretched enchantments on someone else. I have paid the price and I’m still paying for it every day.

I stand still because I have work to do. Operative word: WORK. I’m not here for anything ELSE.

I choose my own battles. Same as I choose my own perimeter. You already gave me a convincing portrayal of your beloved insignificance. Clap, clap.


***

I’ve been gifted with the gut feel to judge characters accurately. Within seconds of the initial meeting, I will know if a person is worth the trouble and the investment. Maybe I am psychic and I can read one’s character aura, if ever there is one. Believe me, there are people whose aura screams “caution,” like that ominous warnings on poison bottles.

I’ve made the mistake of stepping within striking distance of these ominous auras. I silenced that trusty voice inside and listened to the betraying voice of compassion. Yeah, shame on me.

I can look you straight in the eye (because I did you no wrong) and I just laugh inwardly at how you retreat like a shrinking violet. I have never seen GUILT so tangible and so obvious.

Cheers...to the NOTHING that you are.


***

Photo courtesy of Carminico on Flickr.

The Weight Of Water

I am one of those people who feel happy when it rains. Part of me thinks the rains will wash down the putrid taste of my blunders and make the world new again. Unconsciously, I will dangle my arms out and feel the cleansing droplets.

Water off the duck’s back. I’ve loved that expression since I was a child. A lesson in being invincible and impervious.

Sometimes I think if I play the sad song often enough, then I will be wary of the melodic sting it brings. If I tell the story often enough, then it will ease the hurt and make the words slide down my arms and away from me like rainwater.

As the heavens open, I let go of my pain and let it fall like rain from my eyes.

Bridge Over Poignant Waters

I’ve read countless books. I started reading early, during fourth grade. It was the awkward “limbo” grade, where nothing really happened. It was probably my most boring school year so I found myself one day in the dark corridors of our library.

I remember our library then was at the back of the huge stage (the Broadway-type one with heavy curtains) fronting our quadrangle. My elementary school is home to a lot of other-worldly ghost stories (kaya nga may SPIRIT sa name...joke) and being in that dark, musty library gives you the literal and figurative chills. It was like entering a huge cellar or dungeon and half the time I have to check to see if there are still people around...real people.

Being a reading neophyte, I pulled out a fairy tale compilation book (go easy on the chuckles…I was in fourth grade!). It was as huge as a one-half-size illustration board. I remember lugging it from the library to my school service. I cringe now remembering how silly I might have looked back then.

The rest as they say… is “pages and pages” of history. My love for print soon escalated to almost-addiction. By sixth grade I have ravished all the hardbound Bobbsey Twins, Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys books in our new library (our school moved to a new location when I was in fifth grade). My name became famous for being the most-seen name on the borrower’s card pasted at the back of the books. And it became no surprise that after school, I became a regular at our now well-lit-by-sunshine library as a student-librarian (a.k.a Book Lovers Club member).

From fairy tales, I’ve moved to more mature books...the thick bestsellers. Sidney Sheldon. Stephen King. John Grisham. Nicholas Sparks. Patricia Cornwell. Anita Shreve. Yes, even Danielle Steele and Nora Roberts. You name it, chances are I’ve read it. My extra allowance was spent on books and soon I had my own private mini library. But the weird part is that I seldom read the books I buy. I read the ones I borrow.

Like people, there are books that forever change the way you see things. And there are books that pull you in its own vortex of swirling emotions. Until your heart bleeds. I am man enough to admit that there are two books that have made me cry.

This Saturday, I was wandering into a bargain bookstore. Then I saw "it". I reached for it and gingerly touched its hardbound cover. Without looking, I can still remember what the cover looks like. But seeing it again I was transported back in time, and the emotions I felt while reading it came rushing back. I stand there, sober and melancholic for some time.

The book is only 171-pages long but the poignant story transcends a lifetime. What took me aback was that the story was rather simple; it’s something you can read from a standard Mills & Boon novel. But there is a surreal power in the story that really tugs at your heartstrings. The characters were so real and their dilemma was so excruciatingly simple and deliciously tragic that you end up wishing things have been different for them. Their loss became your loss.

Call me sappy. But the love atheist in me somehow succumbed to the sentimental beauty of this novel.

The book is called The Bridges of Madison County by Robert James Waller. And yes, I did buy it... again.




***

He stood there and stared. Neither of them moved, they already had said goodbye. For thirty seconds he stood there, his photographer’s eyes missing nothing, making their own image that he would never lose.

He closed the door, ground the gears, and was crying again as he turned left on the country road toward Winterset. He looked back just before a grove of trees would block his view and saw her sitting cross-legged in the dust where the lane began, her head in her hands.


***

P.S. Because of my inner connection with this book, I refused to watch the movie version even if starred the great Meryll Streep and Clint Eastwood. I believe no one can do justice to a book this powerful.

And I tried reading other Robert James Waller novels but nothing came close. Everything paled compared to this.

In my bucket list, I want to write a book this earnest. In a world full of digital dreams and where relationships are downloaded and deleted by a mere touch of a fingertip, it’s nice to go back to a more basic tragedy: the meeting of destined souls no matter what the odds are and the search for that ever-elusive belongingness.

Superhuman

A few months back, I was “human”, in almost every sense of the word. I succumbed to unapologetic flaws… to frailty… to faultless compassion… and to nondescript sociability. I had that impeccable understanding of human nature. I became fluid where I was once impenetrable. I tried living for the moment. All in the spirit of keeping it REAL.

But I learned a little too late that REALITY is an unforgiving, backstabbing and cold-hearted bitch.

So now I am back to my semi-former self (I want to put “former self” here but TP would disagree with me). I am again a… Wall-E. The comforting barrier is again up and the person I was recently has retreated to that bittersweet place only I know and understand.

I have rediscovered my Scorpio personality, most notably that eye-for-an-eye mentality (and yes, this serves as a threat…beware the wrath of angels). I have engaged in one too many stoic, one-sided conversations. I have attended one too many Tupperware parties, if you know what I mean. THEY WANT GAME, THEN I’VE GOT GAME. Garbage in, garbage out.

Call me ruthless, call me insensitive. But I won’t be the suffering stupid anymore. With me, you get what you deserve. As simple as that. I am not playing god, I am just reflecting pieces of you.

Maybe it’s better this way.

Am I happy? Well, I have always believed that happiness is a choice. You can be happy in any circumstance. I can find happiness in being this “invincible.” From human, I am now superhuman (insert cruel laughter here).

***

I’ve given up hope
Losing the faith that life
Could be mine to treasure
And now nothing’s the same
I found myself reborn
Coz the truths I used to hold
Have changed

Hodgepodge (Early October)

THINGS I AM THANKFUL FOR (LATELY)

1. Wifi – one of God’s gift to tech-whore and workaholics like me
2. the Notes option on my phone – the next best thing to Post-its (for OCs like me).
3. Weekends with nothing urgent to do...just chillax (as A would call it). I usually start weekends like this by cleaning the room that I have neglected for the week (read: empty bottles here and there) and cap it off by blogging.
4. Flavored Water (Propel and Vitwater) – I know it’s weird but I just can’t drink flat out water (especially straight from the fridge). With flavored water, I can finally meet my liquid requirement for the day.
5. Spontaneous getaway for the weekend – better than those planned ones that don’t push through because of conflicting schedules.

***

RELEASE ME

Being a self-confessed music enthusiast, I have developed the uncanny ability to decipher a potential hit from a newly released album (of course, other than the carrier single). Friends, who have asked for burned copies of the songs I am playing, are surprised that some of those songs have not even been released in commercial radio/video channels.

Here are my recent discoveries. Download them before it gets released and jolog-ized by pop radio.

1. I Stay In Love (Mariah Carey, E=MC2 album) – should have been MC’s third single instead of I’ll Be Loving U Long Time. Here’s hoping she is saving this mid-tempo jewel to create buzz in time for Grammy nominations in November.
2. Latest Mistake (Mandy Moore, Wild Hope album) – the sweetest self-deprecating heartbreak song
3. The Best You Never Had (Leona Lewis, Spirit Album) – a killer it’s-your-loss-not-mine heartbreak song
4. Lesson Learned (Alicia Keys feat. John Mayer, As I Am album) – as earnest as Goodbye, another unreleased winning track from her debut album
5. What About Now (Daughtry) – I already handpicked this track since I first listened to their debut album. Now, they have officially made this their fourth single
6. Stupid For You (Marie Digby, Unfold album)

***

REVIEW CAPSULE

Winner:

The modern dance interpretation of Bleeding Love in ASAP ’08 about two weekends ago. It was refreshing in a jaw-dropping way. It was only ruined by the occasional misstep of Toni Gonzaga.

As of presstime, this has been imitated by that trying-hard-copy-cat rival show from the other network. As per C, the results were “super pangit.” Well, what can you expect from THAT show (SOP Sucks...hahaha)

Loser:

For The First Time. I have always applauded Star Cinema for walking the fine line between substance and commercial viability. For the first time... Star Cinema made a movie that is cringing in its blandness. I almost walked out of the cinema. When the movie lost its footing (around the time when the coosome twosome failed to settle their differences in Greece), it never recovered. The disasters just kept on coming: the family dilemma was so forced (unlike in A Very Special Love), Philip Salvador’s acting is so bad and only Candy Pangilinan and her unknown partner had some acting mettle. Given that the two leads only have beautiful faces to redeem their lacklustre acting, the movie should have been saved by a good script/plot. Unfortunately, I have seen a lot of Maalaala Mo Kaya (or even Your Song) episodes that are way better than this horrendous movie.

***

Office buddy C sent me this quote some months ago, during a time when it meant the most:

“We can be fine even when others do not have a good opinion of us. After all, what matters is not what others think of us, but what we think of ourselves. And a truly intelligent person is one who can pretend to be a fool in front of a fool who pretends to be intelligent...”

Again... stone, stone in the sky.

***

Enemies make the most interesting friends