tip toe through the tulips

Sadder lately.

A different kind of sad. 

A sad I’ve only experienced a few times in my life, yet at the same time, a sad that is entirely new to me as well. 

Lola died. She passed away. She’s gone. She’s dead. She’s not with us anymore. 

Words I subconsciously had in the back of my mind  for a while now because of her health, but never wanted to be true. 

My grandma is gone and I won’t have new memories with her from here on out. This makes me so fucking sad. And numb. In disbelief.

I’ll never forget how much of an impact my grandma made on my childhood. So many good memories. The smell of her perfumes she wore over the years. I remember being around 6 or 7 years old and always being near her. She took care of me alongside my mom. I remember almost every weekend when I was a kid up until maybe right before middle school, every early Saturday morning she’d let me tag along with her when she’d take walks around the neighborhood. We’d go to any garage sales we stumbled upon while walking around, and we would browse and she’d talk nicely with whoever was around us and she’d buy me anything that caught my interest...  I remember whenever she was at home with us, she’d make us the best meals, the best friend chicken the best everything. On Sunday mornings, I would wake up to her getting ready for KP Dance Hall. She would be fresh out of the shower every time, smelling like baby powder, putting on her make up - her lipstick, her blush. I would help powder her and I would help with putting her jewelry on. Gold bracelets, necklaces, earrings... I would even help buckle her heels. The most extravagant outfits. I miss those mornings. I’ll miss her singing - especially Only You by the Platters - any song really. Her dancing, her spirit, her laughter and jokes, her confidence, her love. I miss her entirely. It makes me sad thinking that I didn’t take more time to hang out with her in my older years. Aside from being around her when I was still living at home, I just know I didn’t make enough time. I’m the worst with doing that. I miss her so much already. I’m going to miss what once was.

I’m happy she fought her way back to life that one weekend in the hospital. She made it through longer than what the doctor’s assumed. She got to see the rest of her loved ones back home in the Philippines.  I hope you’re in good place Lola. I hope you’re not in pain anymore. -Physically and emotionally- I love you forever and thank you for every single thing you did for me and us. For all the good memories I have with you. Thank you for coming back to my mom when we were kids. Thank you for always telling me good things about me and for showing so much love to J too. I hope you know the special kind of love I’ll always have for you. I hope these words get to you somehow in whatever universe or dimension or plane you are now. 

Forever a big influence of who I am today and what I love. 

Forever thankful for Spotlight Video and my mom allowing me to movie binge and rent several at a time and for letting me experience such fucked up movies at such a young age, alone or with my sisters--- Thankful for my sisters also having the same appreciation and for all of the scary movie or even tv show marathons when we were little kids up to now. Thankful for John Carpenter and for the original horror scene back in the day whenever it started. This genre is my absolute fucking favorite. Thank god for all things horror (!!!!!!) Cheesy as fuck. But so real. :-)

Last week I started my first class in term 3. *woo* That means I’m somewhat half way to the end aka the beginning of my ~potential graphic design career~ That sounds both scary and exciting to me. I’m not really sure where I’ll end up with this degree, but I know that I am glad I stuck to the decision of going. Loans aside, this is the first time in a very long time I feel like I’ve committed to something for me. My job at the restaurant felt this way too, after being there for years and seeing my growth. Like that experience, my going back to school has opened my eyes up to a fraction of the endless possibilities I already know are out there. It’s refreshing, and stressful at times, but a stressful I know will be worth it in the long run. 

There are times I think back of myself in my earlier 20′s, and I can’t help but wishhh I could have been more mindful of the person I was going to be today. I was reckless in so many ways, and compulsive (still am sometimes). I was constantly looking for some sort of validation, because I was always doubting myself. Second guessing. Internally putting myself down in the worst ways. I was always crushing myself, whether I knew it or not (still do sometimes). When I think back on things I’ve done, and things I think I’ve missed out on, it brings me down. This last year has been hard for me, mentally. I think I’ve been tugging myself back and forth on who I am, where I need to be, what I need to do, and even want to do. I’m lucky to be aware but I’m dumb for not being more pro-active about certain situations. This last year has also been most enlightening. Although my constant waves of depression has gotten me in a fat lazy funk, I feel most confident in knowing who I really am. I see that I’m good at a lot of things (surprisingly) and I see that I can go so far if I let myself. I just need to work harder on not allowing fear and anxiety mask that person. 

Hi again. It’s another day... another ‘new’ day, at that. Yet it’s about 80% the same old routine I normally have on Thursdays. This means it’s my third day off from work, and just a day more before I have a break from school, aka “the weekend.” But then there’s work. All weekend. This is the blueprint to my life, lately. Routine. That’s not a bad thing. I don’t mind overall, but man. Could get a little boring, and tiring... and I’m feeling the wave of depression flush me so that doesn’t really help the cause. Boo hoo. I’ve grown used to this. It’ll work its way out, and then back in again. I’m used to this. It still stuns the shit out of me to think that I’ve reached the age of 27 years. I think I’ve always been one to fixate on how time flies yet I always seem to fall back into allowing myself to sulk, and subconsciously not let myself be one hundred percent. The fact of time zooming quickly passed everyone feels more real. Feels more real than ever. So much has happened, and hasn’t. This sounds like a sad entry. There’s probably going to be a lot of these. Oh well. That quote from Eternal Sunshine when she says she feels like she always feels like she’s not living the fullest --- I think I am finally really understanding that. I feel the same way, Clem.

trying out the blogging thing again. i really feel like i need a reliable outlet to push out all these thoughts. good, bad, random, and unnecessary. all the sad shit i think, that i may or may not shine light on one hundred percent but will try my best to elaborate for the sake of putting it out to the world of strangers (and the occasional friend). 

i’m not sure when’s the last time i committed to journaling my day-to-days. i used to write a lot, both public and private. i miss it. i’ve felt like i’ve lost a lot of myself in the years growing up, to now. i’ve gradually been finding bits and pieces of myself again, and learning how to truly embrace these elements that shape me. i’ve also discovered new parts of me that make me both sick and excited. i’ve been itching to explore more of myself, even if it isn’t always good. 

lately, early childhood/teenage nostalgia has been hitting me hard. it might sound absurd, but i think it’s some sort of sign. i’m not entirely sure what it means yet, or maybe i never will know. i know that a huge part of myself has been holding back on really 'feeling’... i know that doesn’t make sense without context, but for the sake of remembering for myself, i’m just going to leave it at that. for now.