Monday Trivia

I choose to write because it’s perfect for me. It’s an escape, a place I can go to hide. It’s a friend, when I feel outcasted from everyone else. It’s a journal, when the only story I can tell is my own. It’s a book, when I need to be somewhere else. It’s control, when I feel so out of control. It’s healing, when everything seems pretty messed up. And it’s fun, when life is just flat-out boring. ― Alysha Speer

Solitude: Sometimes painful often delicious.

Forbidden

I knew of this song since I was a small child yet I wasn’t aware that there is an English version of this till the other night. I was watching a (comedy?) film and the lead character sang this in such a passion that brought tears in my eyes. ( I told you I’m starting to mellow with the passing of years. In my book, disgusting.) I wrote a poem with a similar contents a while, while back about a professor I thought I had a crush back then. And of course that one (ultra) forbidden affair that I should have never embark in but no regrets.

Here is the song:

“Forbidden”
(from “Miss Granny” soundtrack)

Like the stars in the night that I love to behold
You seem near in my sight yet so distant to hold
You’re somebody forbidden for me to possess
So this love I’ve long hidden, I try to suppress

All night long, all day through
How I long for your kiss
I love you, how I do
Yet you don’t know of this
There’s somebody who found you
Before we have met
While her arm’s still around you
I have to forget

Forbidden love, forbidden lips
Can’t even touch your fingertips
Forbidden smile, forbidden face
Your love is such forbidden grace

If at last though I tried
Getting you off of my mind
My heart still couldn’t hide
My true feelings behind
All I ask is forgive me
For loving you so
And don’t look back as you leave me
It’s forbidden, I know

Forbidden love, forbidden lips
Can’t even touch your fingertips
Forbidden smile, forbidden face
Your love is such forbidden grace
Forbidden love, forbidden lips
Can’t even touch your fingertips
Forbidden smile, forbidden face
Your love is such forbidden grace

Hyperthymesia

One and a half feet in the past

Unable to fully move on

Present is dull and boring

Vague interest in the future

Torn between fantasy and reality

Who also is in need of quaranfling?

So Near Yet So Far

The reason why I don’t put my real name on Facebook and never post a single image of myself on Instagram ( heck, I don’t even have an account) is because I am scared for the crazies to find me. I burned the bridges a long time ago and removed any means of transportation that will lead to me and I’m sure none of them is a good swimmer enough to cover the distance. So, as long as I’m invisible I am safe.

But I must admit I am a bonafide stalker. I stalk some people online. Part out of curiosity, part out of __ I forgot the word. I’m curious what become of them, how’s their lives now and who they are with. Most of the times I was amazed with the answers to my inquiries. Their choices surprised me. Never expected most of them. It only shows that I never really know them. Or people do really evolved. Maybe they are not the people they once were or they are not the people I thought they were.

Anyway, I am always careful not to leave footprints. Based on my experience the moment they learned that I still exist they will swoop like vultures on a carcass. I don’t want that to happen. Again. I remember the time I planned to attend an overseas class reunion and let them know, oh, boy… the lies came pouring in.

“You didn’t change since grade school. Still the beauty.” Someone said.

What??? They didn’t know I exist back then.

Okay, that maybe a lie since I was a class president multiple times during our academic years. I starred in school productions, captained a debate team, did quiz bee, wrote in the school paper and did things they never dreamed of doing. But beauty I was not. I was bullied because I was an outcast and in their provincial minds, ugly. I was not a girly-girl (according to my father I was) and never care about my appearance so, they made my life a living hell.

Another thing is: people have long memories. They will remember things you don’t recall anymore. Or things you rather not remember. They are good at that. And those who formed a misplaced admiration and attachment to you still harbor some hope to rekindle whatever they think you had with them that time without regards to whoever is involved. And one thing I don’t do is to deliberately hurt someone or break a union and divide a family. Of all the unconventional things I had done in the past, I can proudly say that I didn’t break up any marriage or any relationship. Like I said I don’t do such things.

So, I’m content with spying on them and once in a while wishing I was there, missing a certain atmosphere and imagining how it will be if I show myself in person. All hell will break loose for sure. I say this not because of self-importance but out of personal experience. I tend to form an all consuming kind of relationships with certain people that usually end up in__ chaos? misery? disaster? name it. They are often so intense that forgetting seems out of the question. On my part because I possessed Eidetic memory and on their part__ I have no idea. It just happened that way.

The funny thing is: Those who matters to me I don’t stalk. I am scared to see that life goes on without me. That I am not a part of their existence and will never be. That they don’t even think about me at all. That they are happy I am not there. So, I stay away. Even though it hurts. I can handle it. What I can’t handle is rejection. The knowledge that I don’t matter at all.

But it is what it is and I long accepted the fact that life could be lonely sometimes and alone we were born, alone we shall die.