Si Malaya

I don’t like working hard for people.

I’m that person who leaves, because the guy turned out to be a fan of this certain genre. I’m that person who hates being told what to do and what not to do. I’m that person who leaves whenever it’s already inconvenient for me.

I’m the person who never quite went ahead of the passionate stage of relationships. I hate long, mundane months. I hate dry conversations, and short replies for sweet random messages.

I keep asking myself why I was never able to keep a long relationship, and why I never stayed. I came up with one answer: I don’t like working hard for people.

But the truth is relationships aren’t only about the good days, and the high times. Most of it is mundane, and most of it is patience. A lot of it is hard work, and hard work.

And just more hard work.

I keep asking for romantic gestures, as if I am a princess from a fairytale. I keep wishing for poetic nights, as if I’m a goddam poet myself. I keep asking for the petty, immediate efforts when someone is willing to give so much more - something more, like investing time with me and my family.

I keep denying myself of the real stuff, because I overlook the grand picture with the nitty-gritty details of my daily demands. I preoccupy myself with the nonsense of nothing, but I can’t take myself to the point when I am ready to invest myself and my time for someone. And investing my time and myself means that I become patient, and wait gracefully for the blooming of whatever it is I’m planting.

But these days, I am with someone who makes me question my ways, and my stupid immaturity. I’m with someone who opens up, shows me how vulnerable he can be, tells me wants to be the this man for me.

For all you know, I also want the same things. I just need to come my senses - and it’s not that these are highly reliable senses - and realign myself. I am not just after the romance and the pettiness of relationships. I want to start working hard for people, especially you. I want to start seeing the grand pictures, and start letting go of my nearsightedness.

Am I ever sober? I wish I only got drunk on alcohol; but these days, I got so much more triggers. I lose my sobriety over invalid feelings and lack of anything grand to look forward to. These days are just plain exhausting and ephemeral. I can’t take hold of anything; one day I entertain a thought just to lose the hold of it the very moment I wake up the next day.

One afternoon, I was cooking up on the thought of doing something new – something that might break this monotonous life I had since I don’t know when. I tried to cook up the thought so bad, I even started writing down a draft schedule, just to wake up in pieces again. I can’t take hold of anything these days. It feels as if I am never sober to hold up another glass and perfectly fit the lid on my lips, and perfectly drink the liquid in it. I’m never that sober; I slip some liquid on my chest, just enough to stain my favorite shirt.

I’ve been trying to trace down where I lost my sobriety. I’m suspecting I lost it somewhere when I was trying to be so strong, and trying to detach from my emotions. I’m suspecting, I succeeded in detaching myself from my emotions. I’m suspecting I’m slipping off, and can’t take hold of anything simply because my mind tells me there’s nothing and no one I should hold on to. But it’s getting the best of me. I’m losing control.

I’m pretty sure it’s a messy way back to my sanity. I’m sure it’s an awful path to connect to myself again.

The worst thing about this is that I feel like all my thoughts and emotions are invalid. Like when you’re too drunk that you start to tell yourself, “Hey, nothing you do and say now can be trusted.” The next thing you now is you’re down the abyss again, trying to remember all that you did last night. But your head will just probably hurt, and you’ll remember nothing.

It feels like I’m so drunk that I start to invalidate myself, and just wait for the next day to wake up sober and in pieces again. It feels like my subconscious is dying, and there is nothing down and deep within me to save me from all these.

I’d still say no one is out there who can save me. I can’t even cry for help; because if I ever did cry for help, I have to let the other person how I am doing, and what I am going through.

I can’t even tell myself what this is.

No, this is not a new year-new me post. People can never be new, we can only be better. I think new year is a joke of the Universe - fooling us to believe that we can change our ever complicated selves over fireworks.

Hindi talaga ako matandain e. Inaral ko kung paano lumimot ng mukha, mga kwentuhan, mga petsa, at kung ano pang nakakasagabal sa matagal ko nang inaasam asam na ‘equilibrium’.

Hindi ko natatandaan lahat ng kinwento ko sayo. Hindi ko na nga rin natatandaan na para akong tanga na itatanghalian yung chocolate na bigay mo. Pero hindi kita nalilimutan. Hindi ko nalilimutan na tinawag mo akong 'Beh’ sa formal meeting natin sa office.

Hindi ko nalilimutan yung gabi na uminom tayo at ang bottomline nang mahaba nating kwentuhan ay, “Oo, ilang taon kayong magkasama. Pero mas mahaba pa yung mga taon ahead of you.

So pili ka na lang.”

Hindi ko rin nalilimutan yung paborito nating kanta sa videoke. Lagi pa nga tayong duet, kahit offbeat ka. Aminin mo na. Tapos isusunod mo na yung korean song na feeling ko iniimbento mo lang - pero bakit don hindi ka na offbeat?

Hindi ko rin nalilimutan yung FebFair natin noong 2015. Lakas maka-date nung gala natin.

Marami na rin nagsabi sa akin noon, tayo na lang kaya. Pero hello. Iba kasi tayo e, iba yung dynamics nating dalawa. Sorry, hindi pang-romansa.

Sadyang gets mo ako, at gets kita. Sadyang gets mo na fickle minded at overthinker ako. Sadyang komportable tayo sa isa’t isa. Na kahit saglit pa lang tayo nagkakakilala at lumalabas, parang andami na natin pinagsamahan.

Marami naman kasi talaga. Kasi bawat parte ng buhay mo ibinahagi mo sa akin - yung minsang 'sharing’ pa nga over korean food with your mukhang korean na housemate.

Miss na miss na kita. Miss ko na yung witty statements ng sweaters mo. Miss ko na yung mga rants mo. Miss ko na yung buhok mo, for some reason na hindi ko alam.

Sa lahat ng pinagdaanan mo, mga failed attempts mo, at mga walang hiyang nakikala mo sa Tinder - you deserve to be happy. You always deserve to be happy.

At hindi ko na sasabihin dahil alam kong ikaw yung tipong hindi nagsesettle. Alam kong alam mo yung para sayo. At hindi ka magsesettle dahil lang siya yung lechugas na only available ngayon.

Cheers, dahil tapos na tayong gawing kumplikado ang mga buhay natin. Cheers, to LDR friendship.

What’s keeping you from taking that step? I can see you hesitate. Even from afar, I can smell your fears; I can describe the taste of your anxieties. What’s keeping you?

Yes, you’re not yet done. You’re still a work in progress, bits of nasty pieces here and there. But should that keep you from taking a step forward?

 I don’t know where you’ve been and how you’ve been the past months. You may be a damaged soul; but just to let you know, we all are walking damaged souls. Our skies haven’t aligned perfectly yet; and our souls are still finding its way to better days. No one’s asking you to be perfect, and all made up. Not unless you’re aspiring to be deviant.

 I’m not telling you to stay in the status quo. I’m not telling you to stop hoping and being better, because the norm is that we’re all broken. What I’m telling is quite the opposite – just because the status quo says you should be broken, doesn’t mean you can’t be brave. Take that step.

 That wall in front of you, it’s all made up. It’s not there. It’s never there. It’s a graffiti wall. It’s so perfectly drawn and painted that it almost feels real and thick. But I tell you, it’s not. It’s a graffiti. It’s a wall made by other people, because they’re afraid you might outdo them. They want to put you inside the box, make you feel unimportant and not enough. But you are.

 Touch the walls, and look at your fingers. They’re paint, so they’ll taint your skin. You can walk over them. You can easily take that step, and get away from the boxes. See, you’re really supposed to be there, but for only quite some time. You’re not supposed to stay there. You’re supposed to move, you’re supposed to leave. Because the graffiti walls limit you. They put a helmet to your imaginations. They put a cover to your jars f passions. They cover your candles, so soon they’ll run out of flames.

 They’re supposed to scare you. They’re supposed to make you stay. But you know better. Take that step, see what lies ahead of you.

I can’t keep up See, I’m not just sad or just alone I can’t keep up The days been running too fast And I don’t want to keep up With the speed, with the fast pacing Of everything, of leaving people Of trying to pursue dreams Of trying

These days can I just sit down Stare at you, maybe And just let time pass me by Let my friends wear their Self-proclaimed trophies Let everyone cry about their Colorful lives Let everyone tell me they have Secure bank accounts I don’t really care I don’t want to join their game It’s too petty It’s an illusion, a bait, a trick

Can’t you see?

No one’s ever too happy Tell me what you do when you’re alone And you’re not having an intimate time Tell me what you do When everyone has left you Do you hug the likes and the hearts that you get Do you fancy over the comments And tell yourself “Hey, world, look at me, everyone likes me”

Because the truth is it’s all a lie A hack of reality A disparity between what’s called life and lie Because the truth is you also want to cry When you’re alone and no one’s asking you out Because they got new friends to spend their nights with Go home wasted, and they have already forgotten How you took care of them

I can’t keep up So go along, don’t drag me Don’t waste me Don’t try to tell me I’m running too slow One day I might get left out

I’d rather stay here, embrace humanity See where my vulnerabilities can take me I can’t keep up With your mask parade I like it raw and broken I like it me I like it just it is

Slow, so I can smell the winds Slow, so I can count the grace falling on me Slow, because I’d like to take time To thank every person who has come to help me To tell me that “Hey, you’re not alone”

I can’t keep up And maybe I never will Just tell me how it is in the finish line Because I think I’m not running towards A finish line, or a one-stop destination

NANINIWALA PA RIN AKO

I was once a stranger, your stranger.

Until you told me your name. But I guess that doesn’t make us any less of a stranger to each other.

You asked me if have some time to spare, maybe get to know you a little bit more. I guess what you should have asked is if I ever want to get to know you. But I nodded, because the night bored me, and because strangers are always nice people to talk to.

I can lie, and not feel guilty. I can lie, and still feel like I’m telling the truth. You wouldn’t really know, unless you spend some more days trying to know me. Strangers are like walking empty cans – you can dump anything and not feel sorry about it. After all, you’re just strangers who happen to share the same time and the same space at that very moment.

“I think people are helpless,” you said.

“I think you are helpless, and on top of that, pathetic,” I sneered. I didn’t want to buy your stories, I didn’t want to get amused by how differently you look at life.

“And you’re with me tonight, so I guess that makes us two helpless and pathetic people.”

“Who happen to seek comfort and temporary disillusionment through alcohol,” I intended to finish your sentence.

And as I looked at you, the more it felt like I’m conversing with a total stranger – and that invited me in. I wanted to get to know you, but remain innocent of your life. I didn’t want to be a part of you or your short stories; I just wanted to know, how life has been for you. And how I wished that you wouldn’t tell about me to the people in your life. That would make me something familiar to you; that would make me a part of you.

And I didn’t want that.

But the wrinkles on your face, especially the lines on the side of your eyes, they invited me in. I wanted to get close, get nearer, and see you from a comfortable distance. From a distance where no stranger would dare to go.

I wanted to stay innocent of you, and to not smell like you when I walk out the bar. I wanted no taints of you, no trace of us opening up to each other. But you were such an empty man.

And empty people are perfect lures for sad, and lonely people like me. I can’t tolerate too much positivity, and too much assurances. I like it messy, and chaotic. I like it empty, so I could fill in. I like it empty, so I wouldn’t feel more alone.

I never once opened up to you, and I hope you noticed that. You only knew my name; never my address, never my job, never my favorite color, never anything. And it never bothered you.

You only knew my number, and you kept calling me to keep you company. You said you wanted me, and that I was a good friend because I know how to listen. But see, not speaking is different from listening. You only want me as an escape. You only want me as a doormat, as a reassurance of your miscalculated decisions. You only want me, because I don’t tell you what and what not to do.

You’re tired of life and of everyone, and you want a perpetual stranger beside you. So you could rant, so you could be real and not be judged.

But tonight, yes this night, I want to open up. I want to break the gap, and the barrier separating me from you. I want to move away from being a stranger, to being someone you’d ask, “Where do you live?”

I want to tell you how I admire you, and how I wish people could’ve appreciated you a bit more. I wanted to ask, I wanted to be a friend. I wanted to be someone you know.

Because knowing too much about you and your misfortune lures me in. I like you and every single part of you that hurts. I like them, but I don’t want to heal them. I want them to hurt, stay there longer, and bruise or wound. I want you stained of your own mistakes, drowning in regrets.

Because you’re a human, after all. Knowing too much about you makes me want to kiss you, maybe in the forehead, and tell you, “Hey, it’s not okay, but guess what, I’m here.”

Seeing you like this – drenched in nicotine, and smelling like you’ve never washed your jacket – makes me want to kiss you. This time, maybe in the lips, so you can pull me close, and I’ll start to smell like you.

I want to know you, and be a part of you.

“Strange, huh? That the very moment we feel familiarity towards someone, we start to lose interest.”

You smiled, and left. And yes, I will always be your stranger.

____________

I know you, I have always known you.

I have watched you from afar too many times that I know where you work, and where you live. I have watched you far too many times that I know exactly where to go that night to meet you.

“I think people are helpless,” I said lousily. I knew you were never the type to engage in a conversation with a stranger. You hate strangers; you detest the idea of not knowing. How do I know? I sit behind you in your favorite bars, and once, I heard you say, “Can’t we all be too familiar with each other and never have to worry about our safety? And never have to worry about being judged by how you look today?”

I wanted to get to know you, but I know you will never come to open up. You’re too afraid. You’re a living oxymoron; because despite your detesting the strangeness, you’re never the kind to keep people. You’re never the kind to attach yourself to people. You wanted to be familiar with people; but being familiar and knowing them are two different things.

I am familiar with your face, your smell, your favorite color, but I don’t know your story. I don’t know why you’re consistently wearing that frown. I am so familiar with you, and I hate it. Because it makes me want to know you.

So I called you from time to time, even if I knew you wouldn’t really speak up. I just wanted to see you, and be near you. I just wanted to remember how you smell, and take it with me when I get home.

You are an empty person. And on top of that, you’re a cold-hearted human-being. You don’t let people hurt you, because you’re afraid you might self-destruct, again and again. You don’t let people stay for too long, because you’re never used to holding on. You’re a master of letting go, and leaving people.

But never of staying, and keeping people.

You treat people like walking empty cans – like you can throw them off anytime, and not feel sorry about. You might even feel happy for throwing us out. At times, it invites me in; it makes me want to break the high walls. It makes me want to be someone who can be a part of you; someone you’ll tell your friends and blog followers about.

I want to be a part of you; an indispensable part of you. I want to be the person you’ll first call when you’re undecided. I want to be that person that you can’t leave, even with so many reasons that you can already have.

I want to kiss you now; I want to kiss all the parts of you. I want to taste your bruises and your wounds, and I want to taste like you.

If I ever kissed you, I will run my lips on your cheeks, and whisper to your ears, “Let your guards down, we’re both wounded people.

I’m not here to heal you, nor to break you. I’m here, just here.”

But if I did kiss you, I know I’ll never see you again.

So I’ll go instead, keep these nights in my head.

Kung makasalanan ka Makasalanan din ako Kaya halika, Ibulong mo sa aking ang mga kasalanan mo At mamahalin pa rin kita

Hindi ako ang diyos para patawarin ka O husgahan ka Wala rin akong pake kung Madungis kang kakatok sa pinto ko Ngayong gabi Dungis mula sa iba Dungis mula sa nagpatong patong na kamalian

Halika, tabihan mo ako At pagsaluhan natin ang kwento mo Na para tayong parehong dalawang araw Na hindi kumakain Halika, tabihan mo ako Pagsaluhan natin ang mga luha mo Na parang wala ng tubig na maiinom Halika, tabihan mo ako Hayaan mong sabihin ko sayo

Ayos lang yan Kahit sabihin nilang nagkamali ka na naman Dahil nagmadali ka na naman sa pagpili Kahit sabihin nilang hindi ka na natuto Marahil ay hindi ka nga natututo Pero hayaan natin sila Masyado silang mapanghusga na akala mo Ni minsan hindi nila naranasang umibig At magkamali Masyado silang mapanghusga na akala mo Isang tuwid na daan lang ang pwede mong tahakin

Tingnan mo ako sa mata Huwag kang mahiya Kung naiiyak ka ay pupunasan ko ang iyong luha Tingnan mo ako sa mata Sabihin mo kung wala kang nakikitang Inggit, galit, poot, inis, lungkot, at takot Tingnan mo ako sa mata Hindi ba’t tanggap pa rin kita?

Hawakan mo ang kamay ko Para hindi ka na matakot Hawakan mo ang kamay ko At hindi ako bibitaw

Lumapit ka Gusto kong maamoy Yung malagkit na amoy Ng mga luha mo sa kwelyo ng blusa mo Lumapit ka Gustong kong maamoy Ang taong matagal nang lumalayo Dahil natatakot siya Na baka kagaya ako ng iba

Lumapit ka Nang maamoy mong magkadugo tayong dalawa Parehong may salin ng kasalanan Kakulangan, at kalungkutan

This poem in my lips It’s not about us

It’s not about the nights we spend together Nor the mornings you woke me up With a big smile on your face It’s not about the sweet words Like “You look so damn beautiful today” It’s definitely not about the lingering kisses Some we stole while watching a crappy movie And some we did under the night sky

It’s not about the times you held my hand And placed it on your chest It’s not about the songs you wrote About my messy head It’s never about the touches you stole The pokes on my cheeks The sweet pushes when we’re on an escalator

I hope it could just be about the cheers we did While singing along to the new song we found on soundcloud I hope it could just be about the mixtapes you did And left on my front porch Before you went on a long trip

Just so I could find out That you’re never coming back

It’s never about the moments we spent Nor the songs we sang It’s simply about you Never coming back About you leaving me And I feel like I’m an unfinished song A song without a bridge

It’s about sleeping alone in the night Knowing I’ll never have you beside To tell me “Hey it’s gonna be okay” It’s about you being gone And there’s no one to tell me “I still love you, even if you’re the worst overthinker I know”

Ni minsan ba naisip mong mahirap kang tanggihan? Hindi naman kasi ikaw yung tipong makikilala ko araw araw Hindi naman kasi ikaw yung taong madaling mahanap Ni minsan ba naisip mong hindi kita kayang pakawalan?

Nang basta basta Parang gusto ko manatili, makinig sa kwento mo Baka pwede ka ring titigan Hanggang sa masaulo ko na yung mga ngiti mo Na kahit nakapikit ako, bawat detalye ay kumpleto pa rin Pero tingnan mo kung nasaan tayo Tingnan mo kung tugma ba yung oras nating dalawa Kung maglalapat ba ang ating mga kamay Kung masasandalan ko ang mga balikat mo Sa mga gabing hindi ko na alam ang gagawin Tingnan mo kung pareho ba tayong pwedeng Manatili, lumimot, magsimula, at sumaya Nang magkasama

Yung oras nating dalawa, parang kailanman hindi magtutugma Parang tayong dalawa, na hindi magiging tama para sa isa’t isa Pakiramdam ko, nahuli lang tayo ng ilang araw, ilang oras Pero parang kailanman, hindi na tayo mapagbibigyan

Pero pinaglalaruan nila tayo Pilit nila tayong pinaglalapit Pilit na pinapakitang nahuli tayo Pilit na pinaparamdam na sana ikaw ang kasama Pinaglalaruan nila tayo Na parang wala tayong pakiramdam Na parang hindi tayo marunong manghinayang

Pinaglalaruan nila tayo Pero ni minsan hindi nila tayo tinanong Kung gusto ba nating sumali sa kanila Kasi parang magulo, parang nakakasira ng ulo Na sumali sa laro Na oras ang kalaban ko Hindi ba talo na agad ako?