Monday, January 29, 2007
Recently though, with the advent of a little toddler named Gabriel who insists on stories every time he visits, I seem to be getting the groove back. Of course, his stories are fairy-winged little threads, so far from what I want to write. But the spontaneity is there and I’m realizing that what I really lacked was the ability to excite myself enough to plow through the many yarns squiggling inside my head.
I still want to push through with my long-delayed project of a collection of short stories on sleeping and waking. Maybe one of these days, I’ll just surprise myself. : )
Thursday, January 25, 2007
I'm... not sad.
No, I'm not being a hypocrite. I'm not sad because the sophist in me tells me I'm learning so many things which I know is helping me become more equipped in dealing with real life. It really blows sometimes how alone I feel now, but some blessings come along to remind me that I will never truly be lonely.
I rushed Mummy to the ER last Saturday, and she'd been in the ICU since Sunday. I've only gone home once to take a bath last Monday and I now stink to the high heavens. I've got the darkest eyebags this side of North Caloocan. The Health Provider's coverage is running unto depletion. No more Daddy to come swishing in to rescue her little big princess. And yet, the heavens are intervening to assist us in our needs. Little signs affirm our belief that we are not being ignored by the armies of heaven.
What an un-boring life it is right now.
Now Livvie, when you were younger and you wanted your name to be Lizzie, isn't this exactly what you wished for? A life that's lived --- there's no greater gift.
Saturday, January 20, 2007
“They die, kid. They die and it will break your heart!”
Then I’d run away and leave him wondering which circus I escaped from.
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Hehe, but before you get any "green" ideas, that's just my attention-grabbing statement for saying I miss traveling. Really, I miss being in different localities, meeting different people, eating local delicacies. Shoot, I hope you've taken the green vibe off your minds now---- I can just see you guys snickering and saying: oh yeah, meeting "people" and "eating local delicacies"... rock on...
I just am missing travel. These days, I feel the urge to go far, far away and my bore-at of a job locks me down in the office. Dunno.
Hay. Good night anyway.
P.S. Somebody got Mo Twister on his ranting mood today about hypocrisy of media reporters --- again. So stubborn and yet so brave. If I'm married to this guy, I would probably end up irrevocably insane but not before having the most exhilirating, thrilling ride of my life. Crash and burn, baby. 8-)
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
Today, that depresses me.
So shoot me if you want, I might even thank you for it.
Monday, January 15, 2007
I wanted to be the logical type of person. I really tried. But it seems the call of the extraordinary imagination was a bit more louder than that of rigid mental discipline.
As a young child visited by black cats in the middle of the night, unexplicable wake-up jolts at exactly 2:30 a.m. followed by eerie flute music that happened at least thrice a week for two years, women in black appearing in windows, apparitions projected on doors and walls, angels rescuing me from falling off a cliff or the stairs or riding an ill-fated bus, it is very hard to dismiss the supernatural just like that.
If I start talking of OBEs (or Out-of-Body Experiences) you are free to close this window and move on to other blogs which could present to you sane stuff like, oh, let's see... an intelligent discussion on the noble and inert gases found on the periodic table of elements. :)
I was relatively young when I had my first one (about 13 years old). My family and I visited that Pink Sisters Church in New Manila. It’s one of my parents’ favorite churches. We often go there even if there’s no mass being celebrated. That particular day, the family knelt to pray together facing the barricaded altar (to separate the nuns from the public). I guess I started to fall asleep. But in that juncture between sleep and wakefulness, I was jolted awake by the sensation of having been sucked out and turned around. I was surprised to see that I was now facing my family, watching as we pray. I clearly saw myself kneeling with eyes closed a little too much like I was asleep, my daddy, my sister and my mummy. The most magnificent thing though was that not far above our heads was this magnificent angel-creature with perfect wings. The vision was white, bright and blazing. It didn’t last more than 30 seconds, that vision. I remember forcing my eyes open to REALLY SEE more but I ended up waking up and finding myself facing the altar again.
Yes, of course. I could have just been dreaming.
I am discussing this today because this morning, I had another one. I woke up early because I heard my mummy coughing hard downstairs. Traumatized about early morning bad surprises now, I rushed downstairs to check on her. Helped her a little bit downstairs, gave her medicines and then we saw my sister off around 5:30 a.m. After she’d gone, I lied down on our sofa to sneak in a couple of minutes more sleep before I prepare for work as well.
Not long after that, I heard the doorbell ring three times in rapid succession. I remember thinking it must be my sister who came back for something. So I forced myself to stand up, only to find that I could not move. Sleep paralysis, clearly. I was lying face down and I tried my best to push myself up so I could move. I’ve had sleep paralysis before and I knew it could become a long struggle to wake up. That’s why I was surprised that when I tried to move, I suddenly sprang up from the sofa and found myself in a sitting position already. I looked down on the sofa to check what could’ve accelerated my movements and I was surprised to find myself still lying there. More than that, when I looked at my surroundings, it was our living room alright but it was twilight-esque and the room was illuminated by a couple of dozen white candles. The first thought that came to me was --- This is what Daddy sees. In a previous lucid dream, he told me that he was still around us but occupying another dimension. I was so sure that if I go to his room, I will find him there, in that dimension. Also, I wanted to open the gate to answer the doorbell. But when I tried to stand up, something snapped and I was unceremoniously sucked backed to my prone figure. Then, I woke up. Looking up, I saw that nobody was at the gate, my mother was puttering about the dishes, everything was normal and there were no dozen candles to scare the heck out of me.
I have been unsurprisingly sensitive to the paranormal the last few days with the great loss my family felt. It can be my iganitaion, my need to communicate with Daddy. It can be the gift though, an iota of which was passed on to me by our flawed genetic line. I guess, I needed to discuss this today because I want to lay the situation out before me. To really assess my mental health.
If somebody could tell me if I was just dreaming or what the whole caboodle meant, be sure glad to hear you out. I will even accept referrals to shrinks if you have the notion that I am really insane now. :) it’s okay. Just drop me a line or a note. I don't think I'm the type of insane who goes amok anyway.
Sunday, January 14, 2007
Ha. I’m learning a lot nowadays. If there’s such a thing as a rebound guy after broken relationships, could there be a rebound crush after the loss of someone too dear? Is it because I lost a father figure (literally), I’m trying to fill in that void left by his absence with another guy? Of course, given my long-history of utter failure in commencing relationships, all I have right now is this indefatigable infatuation with who I believe is the first guy who made an impression on me after my father’s death. This guy’s not new. He’d been a peripheral in my life. I even kind of referred to him in the past (see entry: Hands). I hate that my exploratory crush on him has come around again, now thrice as big as before. I hate it.
I hate feeling this helpless in getting his attention. I hate the uncontrollability of the situation. I know that there’s nothing I can do to make him look at me that way and I hate having to stay in the wings, fluttering about, like a … a… penniless kid near an ice cream store. I want and I want but I can’t buy anything at all. THAT”S how it feels.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Song in Mind: Angels by Robbie Williams
Okay! Let's talk about ghosts today. I used to believe that all ghosts are scary. BUT --- as it turns out, it's not, especially if you love the person who comes to visit. I love to think my Daddy's at peace now, but I guess since 40 days haven't passed yet, they say his soul is still on earth waiting for the judgement whether he goes to purgatory or heaven.. (I vote heaven though both places daw are peaceful. I mean, who the heck really knows?).
I thought my gift would fail me now that a loved one has passed away. Guess not. I keep track of the occassions that I felt Daddy around the house and this is my accounting of it:
1. for the first 3 days after he died, i sensed cold spots around the house: a) his room, b) the upstairs landing, c) the upstairs bathroom. Once, I even felt it in the funeral house we held the wake in, and it's because I called him to me. My sister called on my cp saying the whole house smelled like candle smoke. I got envious and asked Daddy to make his presence felt to me too. Barely a fraction of a minute later, I was surrounded by him. They're called spots because they are what it's called. You pass the area and goosebumps rise on your skin, sometimes even if you're not thinking about him at that particular moment. It was gone though after his burial date.
2. Again, rooms filling with the smell of candle smoke.
3. The sala set downstairs making creaky noises as if somebody's sitting down on it. It was his favorite spot while watching tv.
4. Last Tuesday night, everyone was seated in the sala and we all smelled his lotion. I wondered then why it didn't smell like Vicks because that was his favorite. We used to tell him we don't like the smell of menthol, but he used to tease us that we would miss the smell when he's gone.
5. Last night, I woke up in the middle of the night surrounded by the smell of Vicks vapor rub and it was actually comforting. He was right, we'd miss it.
6. Dreams: have had 3 vivid dreams when he told me things to take care of. The first one, he looked young again and he told me to take care of the house and then he hugged me really tight for a really long time. Second one, he was a bit older and when I asked if he was in heaven yet he answered, "Hindi, nandito pa ako, Dyan sa tabi nyo. Dito lang." Then he held my hand tight. The third one, when I was stuck in the office and in despair (I wanted to fall back into my suicidal mode), I fell asleep in the office dorm and clearly dreamt that he motioned that i should never consider suicide again. Then he closed his eyes and slept.
Hallucinations, delusions, maybe. Or suppose that after such a loss, our sensing has gone on hyperdrive and we begin to claim things that really can be explained by science or logic. But, having lived this weird life for 24 years now, sensing things people call "crazy stuff", with half my memories swimming with ghosts both real and imagined, who really knows, right?
All I know is that when I feel my daddy, I'm comforted. I feel protected. Even the bothersome spirits and elements that used to hound me in the office stays clear now. If I look at it, I lost a Father but gained a guardian angel. One that I can sense more often than the one I saw just once in my childhood. I just hope it won't be the reason why he can't cross over though. I hope that after 40 days it all ends, if only because it's our sign that he's in heaven. Or maybe, it doesn't work that way. Maybe, he can be in heaven and be with us at the same time.
Thing is, no one really knows.
Happy Birthday, Daddy. :) I mean, really, be happy.
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
hey, you got to smile too once in a while.
And besides, I found a copy of Masterpieces of Fantasy and Adventures of Kavalier and Clay last night in SM Manila's Booksale
Teeeheee, not even death can stop me from glutting our house with books. Sorry, Daddy. I know you said we don't have space in the house anymore. Don't worry though, I'm going to hold a major garage sale sometime this year and that's gonna open up space at home. :)
Sigh! Yeah, that's life.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
Nakikiusap sa buwan... himala...
Kasalanan bang humingi ako sa langit ng... isang himala..."
hindi ko kinaya. nagcommute ako papasok sa office, isang bagay na sa huling dako ng buhay ni Daddy ay halos araw-araw naming ginawa. sabi ko na nga ba mag-taxi na lang muna ako. At least doon, pwede ako maging zombie at magpababa ng diretso sa tapat ng pbsp. hindi dadaan sa letran, o sa lawton, o dun sa mga statuwa ng mga tribu sa tapat ng Intramuros wall. pinagtatawanan namin lagi ni daddy yung mga puwit nilang nakausli. ang hirap ding isipin na mamayang gabi, hindi siya nakatayo dun sa lugar niya sa bungad ng letran naghihintay sa akin para makauwi na kami. hindi ngayong gabi, hindi na kahit kailan.
parang tunog ang drama drama ko. ayaw ko naman mag-senti eh. nakakabaliw kasing kalungkutan ang nararamdaman ko tuwing may maalala ako. minsan, maganda pang wala akong malay sa mundo. wala rin akong mararamdaman.
bakit ganun? parang kayang-kaya ko naman nung mga unang araw na nawala sa amin si Daddy. habang nagbubulyawan sila lahat, kinaya kong huwag umiyak. parang akala ko, okey na. sabi ko, madali lang pala.
eh bakit, biglang ngayon, masakit na naman? triple pa. doble pa ng triple. nakakalugmok sa sakit. nakakabali ng tuhod at nakakasikmura sa tiyan. ang sakit na ng ulo ko sa kakukunot ng ulo. nilalagnat na ako sa kawalan.
hindi man tama, hindi ko rin mapigil dahil yan ang nararamdaman ko. lahat ng tao, bumabati, condolence. Lagi kong pakli, salamat. Nakangiti pa ako. At para di ko na masyadong maramdaman ang pagkabalisa, biglang babatiin ko sila ng Happy New Year. maiiba na usapan. malilimot na nila na maaring malungkot ako. minsan, nakakalimutan ko na rin.
pero, minsan hindi na ako makapangpanggap. mabait ang mga tao, pero para silang nagsasalita mula sa kabilang gilid ng bangin. naririnig ko sila pero hindi ko sila naiintindihan. alam kong di lang ako ang namatayan ng minamahal. ngunit, hindi ko kasi inakala na ako ay daranas ng ganitong sakit. akala ko talaga, pag pumikit lang ako, okey na. mali talaga, mali.
sa kabilang banda, naiisip ko rin na ang galing galing din ng mga tao... ginawa ng Diyos na nakapag-iisip at nakakaramdam tayo. at sa dami ng maaring ikalungkot, ikabaliw... mas marami pa rin ang nagsurvive.
isang himala. ang kayaning mabuhay matapos mabasag ang puso. himala talaga.
Pano ako makakatawid sa bangin na ito? pano kaya makabalik sa agos ng buhay sa mundo? Naghihintay pa rin kasi ako ng himala.
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Song in Mind: The Journey by L. Salonga
I... am not really sure what to write about. But my instincts are screaming that I must write something. No sense in abandoning this comfort just because the world swung off-kilter. Logic says I should even be doing it more now.
Unsteady for now... but I must churl out the words, each bitter bit must find release, blossom into something light after having been imprisoned somewhere dark. I'm slowly realizing that strength isn't something physical that pushes you on. The courage starts with that seed of belief that maybe, the world doesn't have to end. Maybe, there's enough fiber to hold me together and I don't have to break into a million little pieces.
I will miss my Daddy, that's for sure. But HE had always hoped he brought up a good girl, a strong girl, a daughter who will not bulk at the thought of continuing his legacy. I HOPE I'm that girl.
I wasn't able to give him a fitting eulogy... at least by my standards. It should've been something of epic proportions. But I suppose the best eulogy I can offer my Dad now is a life that testifies to the kind of good person he is. Something in him is in something in us and if I can claim that small light and make it blaze again as a star... maybe that will suffice.
Yeah, it still hurts like I'm being burned in the cauldron of Hephestus, but knowing that in return he is freewheeling amongst the stars, sleeping on the moon and laughing like the sun... the pain is almost nothing.