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.

Never Wrestle With A Pig

Don’t go into battle with an unarmed person.

Never argue with stupid people, they will drag you down to their level and then beat you with experience.

Never wrestle with a pig. You will only get dirty, and besides, the pig likes it.

These are the words I keep reminding myself whenever I encounter downright nasty people with downright nasty comments. It saves me from wasting my time fighting a battle not worth fighting for.

I pity those sorts of beings.

Only those who have serious issues with self-confidence and self-worth and are not happy with themselves have an urge to belittle others and stand on someone else’s back to look tall.

Because if one is satisfied with who they are, they will never seek validation from other people and they will never feel the need to put down others to feel good about themselves.

Not so easy at times. Some people have a knack in provoking but recognize a hopeless situation when you see one. You can never argue with someone who has a limited cranial capacity. You will lose every time.

So next time you find yourself in this situation, say to yourself: I don’t wrestle with a pig… and simply walk away.

 

A Beautiful Mind No More

A long time ago I forced myself to write about something that hurts me the most. You can read it here.

Yesterday, I found via Facebook that the person is dead. Too young! Too soon! But then again, under the circumstances, perhaps it is for the best.

When she died, I have no idea. I will not ask. I stop talking to them millions of years ago. I’m not going to start now.

How she died, I don’t want to know. Living on the streets says enough. I could imagine hundreds of different scenarios. None of them good. She had been beaten up, raped, wounded and God knows what in the past. It hurts to remember. It hurts to think. It hurts to imagine.

Now, she’s gone. End of her sufferings. She lived a hard life. Never known love.

If I have a place in heaven and if there is truly a God, please, give mine to her. She deserves it more than anyone I know.

Rest in peace sister. May you find love and happiness wherever you are.

Prison Without Bars

I am running out of ideas on how to entertain myself during Corona Lockdown.

I am used to self- imposed quarantine. I could go on for years without talking to anyone. That’s not the problem. The trouble is my world suddenly becomes smaller.

How long you could run around the neighborhood and be still in awe of what you see?

I love nature. But believe you me, no matter how great that love is, if I see another river, another poor excuse for waterfalls, another forest, another mountain tops,  I would scream till I have no voice anymore left out of sheer frustration.

How many versions of those one could take without being bored to death?

Trees are just trees and water is just water no matter from which angle you view them.

I could understand that the same rules apply if you go further abroad but that is not the point. Ever heard of the journey being more important than the destination? That is not the problem either. The problem is the journey on a familiar road going to an even more familiar destination is becoming tedious it drives me crazy.

I want to explore new horizons, do new things, see unknown whatever. Anywhere but here for crying out loud.

I want to see trees and water and rocks on foreign soil. Observe unfamiliar cultures. I want to taste and try new dishes, I want to experience life again!

But life would never be the same again. I see it now. By all means, as long as I can run around out there without restrictions, free as before then I’m okay. I don’t even have to talk to people. I just want to go places that’s all.

Happiness Is Boring

There are lots of real reasons to decide to leave something or someone, but there are lots of other reasons that are less valid and less real and less about a relationship than our own minds: Fear (of screwing up, of being left, of not being good enough), restlessness, resistance to growing up, PMS, not knowing how to live without drama, fearing that you’re getting happy, and happiness is boring.

The thing that scared me the most was the knowledge that if I stayed, something was going to change and that something was probably me. I didn’t know what changed me would look like, or if I would like him more or less than I already did. Would I still recognize myself? Would I still be myself? ― Anna White

Why this candle? Why this cake?

Today is exactly a year since I had an accident abroad and fractured my spinal cord. I thought I will never walk again.

But I shoulder on like always and here I am still doing the things I thought I would never do again. Like hiking for example.

I still take a dose of morphine from time to time to ease the pain but I find that a small price to pay compared to being paralyzed sitting in a wheelchair whole day.

It wasn’t the first time I seriously broke a bone. When I was ten years old, a car hit me while crossing the highway and snapped my fibula. I was in a hospital for a month and spent my Christmas and New Year there. They offered me a crutch and had been strongly advised to take it easy. I limped to school after three days sans crutch.

Sometimes you got to do what you got to do in order to move on when giving up is not an option.

I’m not keen on celebrating any occasion but this one I ordered a cake for. Because I believe that if there is something worth commemorating it is this___ the fact that after a bad fall, I am still alive and kicking.

Ashes To Ashes

The grandmother of D. died at the beginning of the corona crisis. It’s best for her. She was 86 years old and very sociable. The lockdown would have been fatal for her if she had been still alive.

The ceremony was intimate and short. They scattered her ashes in the small corner of the cemetery and I thought: there you go. One moment you are alive and laughing and the next day you’re gone. They will mix your remains with others in the secluded little corner of the graveyard that looks suspiciously like a place where dogs are allowed to deposit their excrement and that’s it. That’s your whole life is amounted to, a handful of dust on the scraggy patches of grass littered with dried up flowers from previous occupants. Sad I thought.

I know After the game, the king and the pawn go into the same box. And dead is dead but still…

I watched her husband suffered the same fate four years ago. That was the first time I was really confronted with my own mortality. My parents were both dead but that is different. I had a connection with these people. I have lived with them longer than I know my own family. She was kinder to me than my own mother had ever been. I genuinely liked her.

D. and I made a pact that if one of us died, our ashes will be planted together with a sapling of our choice (Tebitan Cherry or Prunus serrula for me, Magnolia for him) so we can grow and be a part of nature instead of disappearing into nothingness like a dried up turd.

Bottled Up

I was angry with my friend: I told my wrath, my wrath did end. I was angry with my foe: I told it not, my wrath did grow. ~ William Blake


repressed

pent-up

stifled


bitter

begrudging

resentful


envy

jealousy

spite


scheme

action

danger


Anger is an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it is poured. ― Mark Twain


 

Saying Goodbye

Why the things that hurt the most are the ones that are also liberating

It is painful but at the same time lighter

As if there is this massive weight that has been taken off your shoulder

Suddenly you feel light, happier, inspired, more positive and at the same time

Hurting like hell.

You feel like laughing and crying at the same time

Because though it pierces your heart you also realized that

You know where you stand and at last, you are finally free!