pusong pagal

I was walking home alone carrying a paper bag from a convenience store.

I’d bought two seafood-flavored noodles, a pack of cookies, and a bottle of assam milk tea.

I was walking home alone carrying a paper bag from a convenience store.

It was a long, silent walk home.

The road was wet.

The aftermath of the downpour of a light drizzle.

I was walking home alone carrying a paper bag from a convenience store.

Tens of street lights lit up the dark streets of the village.

Store signages beautifully reflected on the tiddly puddles.

I was walking home alone carrying a paper bag from a convenience store.

Cricket sounds. My footsteps. The sound of my teeth, happily sawing away on the cookies.

I was walking home alone carrying a paper bag from a convenience store.

I saw a man in my peripheral view.

It was the local crazy, homeless man.

He shouted at me.

“Boy!!”, “Boy!!”

I got goosebumps.

I felt every single hair on my body stand.

Starting from the calves.

Ending on the top of my ears.

Just as instantaneously, the top half of my being perspired.

I was walking home alone carrying a paper bag from a convenience store.

Life is good.

Here’s another unfinished, short story (God, I’m so fucking lazy), and I’ll hide this person’s identity with the name Mister. So creative, right? I know, thanks. Get ready for one of the biggest cringefests you’ve ever read.

Things didn’t work with this person because we didn’t have the same attitude and philosophy towards this relationship, and just, relationships in general. I think if a person were to know how things ended from his perspective, people would almost always assume that I was completely at fault. I wasn’t the best at expressing myself and I know that, but I had my reasons (that I know I should’ve been more clear about as well). I tried becoming more of what I wasn’t for this relationship, but I just couldn’t keep up. Nevertheless, any of his friends can come ask me for my side of the story. I am an honest person and those who really know me can attest to this. Well, I hope you’re happy and have found what’s truly for you, Mister.

So here goes nothing.

I took summer classes last year and got into the Nursing students' section for my English class. I met him there, but we never talked--well I never talked to anyone except when it was debate or roleplay time and I only knew one person in the class. At the time, he was really a no-one to me. He only catches my attention when he finally comes to class. He seemed like a class-clown type of person. Outgoing. The partyboy type. Sufficiently wealthy and drives either a Mobilio or a Santa Fe--whichever his father wasn't using for the day.

Summer classes went about for 2 months. Yes, nothing happened. Until a few weeks after summer classes concluded. I don't exactly remember why, but I followed a bunch of the Nursing students on Twitter and Instagram because my friend did the same albeit rather more aggressive. I was selective, and of course, it included him. Snapchat was also fairly popular in their class so I got in there too.

Side story:

This, I thought, would be a way to stalk my crush: a nursing guy whom I was having constant eye-contacts with since the day I saw him play basketball at the inter-college games. We eyeballed for a month, then I gave in. I messaged that guy when I was drunk. It was a fairly long confession and I asked if he liked me too, but I was left inboxed, then got blocked the next day. No biggie, I'd be freaked out too if someone whom I personally don't know drunk-messaged me. Anyway, this story is not about that guy. But I still kinda like him though. He's tall and very handsome (subjective, I know). Even the way he walks is handsome. His perfume smells yummy too. Yes, yummy. You know, that smell when you just want to push that person to bed and fuck your brains out. Okay, I'll stop. But seriously, I was intensely attracted to this guy. I wrote quite a lot of entries about him here. Even dreamt about him once. And fantasized the fuck out of him. I imagined we'd fuck everyday if we became an item. Okay, now I'll really stop.

Now back to the main story!

I posted a photo of Tim-Tams on my Instagram story and Mister replied, asking where I bought them. I answered him, and he said thank you. And that was it. It was obvious to me that he was making a move. Tim-Tams are everywhere, man.

A few weeks past, our student org was having an event at this place called Gather. It was a night of live music and social interaction (gross). After a few drinks and one or two fake laughs with some acquaintances, I then got a Snapchat notification. It was a snap of a french bulldog from Mister. I was kinda confused why he'd sent me that, but I replied anyway.

"Cute ng pug!!"

He responded with "Righttt? French bulldog siya actually."

I only had "Ay, hahaha okay!" to say back. Bobo eh, bilang lang ang alam kong breeds. Sorry. Little did I know, he sent that snap to everyone, and he was just trying to start a snapstreak with me. I didn't have to reply. I just had to send him a snap back. Bobo talaga.

He replied to one of my snaps a little later, saying that he knew one of the singers. Turned out to be his batchmate from highschool. He said he'll try to come to the event, but of course, as all "Try ko"s, he didn't come. Meh, didn't matter.

A few weeks of occasional online small talks later, we were finally going to meet up and talk personally. I told him that his singer highschool batchmate was going to have a gig at a place near the school, and that I was going with a friend. He said he'd be there too. And he actually came this time. He and a friend of his took a bit of time to talk to their other friends before coming to me and my friend's table but it was alright. We glanced at each other and said our hellos. That was it. I know, that's so stupid, but I don't know. I'm the worst at meeting new-ish(?) people. Basta. I continued chatting with my friend, and he continued to chat with his. It was a big table anyway. Soon enough, his friend suggested that they go to a bar in Aguirre after the gig. Me and my friend were invited and so we tagged along. *Insert alternating shots of crazy dancing and alcoholic shots here.* I got drunk as fuck but managed to prevent puking. My head felt like it was going to blow up.

I had to go home at around 1 AM and so did everybody else. So we did. Everyone went their own ways but I was offered to be accompanied home by Mister. So we hopped on to his Mobilio. My amats had reduced at this point. We were both just "semi-buzzed". He can hold his alcohol quite well though. He's a partyboy afterall.

He was talkative while driving and as an introvert, I liked that he always had something to say. I've always found it a challenge to start conversations, let alone keep them going.

"Ok ka lang ba mag-drive ng medyo lasing?" I said. "Oo naman, di naman ganon karami yung nainom ko. Medyo buzzed, but I'm fine." "Lakas naman! Hahaha." "May turks ako dito, you want?" "No thanks. Not fond of sweet shawarma eh, hahaha." Sorry not sorry, Turks fans. "Sarap kaya! Hahaha."

He had a lot of stories to tell and I only had a few, short ones. He couldn't stop talking. He shared that he usually has friends accompany him either at home or at his condo until he's 100% sober, and he'd just drop them off the next day. His tone sounded like he wanted me to do just that. If I was really attracted to him at that point, I probably would've agreed to go, but I wasn't yet so I said that I really had to go home soon, or else no one would open the door for me.

"Thank you Mister, nice to meet you haha. See you." "Okay, see you din!"

So I was home. I thanked him again on Messenger. I'm not sure if his reply was "Anytime!" or "No problem!". Whatever. Small talk commenced once he got home as well. We said our goodnights, and he sent me a selfie. I was kinda WTF, but it's fine. I turned off my lights, took a picture and sent that to him. LOL. I'm not one to send selfies, sorry. I know I'm ugly and I cringe at the sight of my unsightly face on the front camera. So, no.

Our conversations escalated from occasional, to every day.

Annabelle: Creation came out and we, along with 2 other Nursing friends, decided to watch it. And of course, as fate would have it, the other 2 couldn't make it. I forgot their reasons why.

It's a date then. So cliche.

It was raining and I was coming from a spontaneous mini celebration of my lola's birthday in Container Turf. I struggled hailing a tricycle through the rain, trying to make it in time for the movie. I got drizzled a bit, but the show a.k.a. the landi must go on. I needed this la niña on my 2-year el niño.

I ran to the cinemas. He was standing there, holding his popcorn. Waiting for me.

It was a good movie with a shitload of jumpscares. I'm not easily scared though, and so I flinched a grand total of 0 times. Strong ako eh. Joke. I like horror movies because I don't get scared. He was a different story though.

To subtly resuscitate my aging Tumblr, here’s a little story that I never got around to finishing. I wrote this last April 8th, 2017 on Google Keep (and stayed there for 2 fucking years LOL), while I was listening to some sad songs while we were in the car on the way to an out-of-town family trip. Fucking sad songs, man. I wanted this to be a novel but I underestimated my laziness. I was supposed to continue this the following day but.. well. Laziness. Who knows, I might get back to this when I feel like doing so. For now though, I don’t have a singular fuck to give. Reading it again after a long while gave me all the cringes I could ever handle so I’m not editing it. Y’all cringe with me at this lousy composition.

August marks the month that I was set free from an extremely toxic and egregiously demented relationship one year ago. Admittedly though, it served as arguably the biggest lesson in my life so far. I thought I'd replicated the same mistake my parents did, in spite of the countless warnings from practically everyone while growing up. 

1. With beautiful visuals and an even more beautiful story, The Shape of Water tells the unlikely love story of Eliza, a mute janitress falling for an amphibian man. A very strong scene later in the film moved me; the amphibian man was to be killed in order to be studied further. Hearing the news, Eliza, despite being mute, poured her heart out in an argument to convince Giles, her old neighbor and only friend, to help her save the ill-fated creature. Few of the beautiful lines translated from sign language by Giles said: “When he looks at me, the way he looks at me, he doesn’t know what I lack or how I am incomplete. He sees me for what I am, as I am.” This line struck me. This is the definition of love. It is strong. It knows no bounds. It will come through no matter how other people see it. No matter what other people say about it. No matter why situations always seem to be against it. No matter how different two individuals are.