Day 3: The Vessel

(365 days of writing prompts)

 We all, at one point, have wished to be anywhere else but here. Plus points for instant gratification.  The past months have been far from easy and a perfect example of a much needed escape. Nothing but virus and chaos all over the news in almost all parts of the world. Forest fires, volcanic ash falls, Presidential clowns and economic crises. The entire year is making Stephen King stories almost childlike.

 So imagine if we each had our own vessel to use in times like this?

 A very special vessel tweaked to our likings and convenience. A vessel that would take us somewhere far from all the mess of everyday. A vessel to make us see someone too far from our reach. A vessel to save us from ourselves right before we hit rock bottom.

 Mine would have to be an automatic cruise with my favorite book stores connected to nearby cafes right inside. I'd go in anytime I please and read to my heart's content. I could even write away my worries and stories while sipping my cafe favorites. No rushing, no lines, no distractions. Only me and my authors tucked away in a pile of books and caffeine. Ah, if only.

Disclaimer: I don’t choose the titles.  They are generated randomly.

Day 2: The Unrequited Love Poem

(365 days of writing prompts)  

Itatagalog ko ba o isusulat sa English?

Anong paraan ang mas mabisa sa pag-penetrate ng manhid?

Pang-seryosohan na ba o tamang lihim pa sa barkada?

Love story ba na mas makulay pa sa crayola? 

Paano ba binobroadcast ang tibok mula sa puso?

Di pa ba halata tuwing nakatingin ako sayo?

Kailangan siguro yung pang mic drop na sabay sa uso

O kailangan siguro yung parang sa Harana ni Chito

Hahayaan muna mapagod yung iba

Bago ako pumila at magpresenta

Isang beses, nabakante yung pila

Walang nakikisiksik, walang kompitensya

 

Eto na yun, oras ko na.

Mali siguro pero inisip ko agad na may pag-asa

Kaso hindi padin tinablan kahit anong atake ko

Wala talagang mas titibay pa sa wall of friendship mo

Syempre sawi, syempre talo

Syempre walang magawa kundi maging okay sa sulok

Sabi nga nila, “Can’t have it all.”

Pero ang hidden message dun, “Bawal ma-fall.”

Hindi siguro ikaw ang tamang tao

Hindi rin ako ang tamang sasalo 

Hindi pa ito ang tamang panahon

Pa-return to sender nalang nung mga piraso ng puso sa kahon 

 

Disclaimer: I don’t choose the titles.  They are generated randomly.

(as cringing as this is for me, it had to be done)

Day 1: Outside the Window

(365 days of writing prompts)

It's almost midnight.

The cold crisp air is starting to creep in through the open window

and as I look outside, I am silenced.

Silenced by drifting thoughts.

Silenced by the cold.

Silenced by stagnation.

I'm thinking of brewing a cup to help me get

a few more words out of my sleepy ass

but I've had one earlier plus a bottle of soda.

If I take any more processed drinks tonight,

it's gonna make me pay a liver or bladder or something.

So H2O, then.

Aside from sleeping dogs,

croaking frogs and other nocturnals,

everything else is lifeless.

There are no flowers to break the monotony.

There are no grass cuttings to catch the eye.

Not even weeds to pull or thorns to prick.

It's all leaves and branches.

Too much leaves and branches.

If only I'd won the last lottery,

I could do some major landscaping to this thing

and make it look zen af.

More #instagrammable.

That's all the rave now, right?

Making every post look like life is perfect.

But what if I post a photo of this terrace as is?

Wouldn't get respectable likes, I know.

That's what I've noticed about the new

unspoken rule of posting pictures.

Anything in its realest state is never good enough.

Perfection trumps realness.

That's today's culture.

Despite efforts to #breakthestigma, we still wish

we were as perfect as the next girl.

We still bother with the right filters, the right lens.

The right background.

The right destination.

The right caption.

The right blend of perfection in each photo.

Not that there's anything wrong with

making a picture look good.

I get that it's a form of art and self-expression.

I only wonder when looking happy started to get so complicated?

Why can't we take what our eyes see as they are?

Why do we need to be so aesthetic about our happiness?

When has feed-like become more important than lifelike?

All this from staring out a window.

Hello mundanity.

Disclaimer: I don’t choose the titles.  They are generated randomly.

How to deal with the half-empties

          " The lonely become either thoughtful or empty. "

- Mason Cooley

        When we meet someone for the first time, we rely on first impressions to assess their personality and oftentimes, the results vary from good to awkward to just plain dry wit.  I think the most basic types of people are the glass half-full or the glass half-empty.  Some can be a ray of sunshine when they walk inside a room while some bring the gloomiest vibes fit for the darkest of humors.  The rays of sunshine are already a breeze to get along with.  Hence, I'd rather focus on the half-empties.

           So. how do you deal with the half-empties?

        The trick is to find out if they want inclusion or space.  Based on my experience, there are two things you can do about them. Either try and include them carefully and sensitively in activities and events fit for them, or, simply allow them the space and silence to recharge alone, then come back for them once you feel they're a full tank. It makes all the difference when the right kind of love language is used.

       Take me, for example. I prefer to be left alone sometimes when the vibes are no longer conducive and healthy. I retreat to my own corner with books, music, cooking and inventing recipes, or would immerse myself in British culture because unknown to many, I've had a fetish for the Brits since childhood. I've wished to be English after watching The Parent Trap (starring Lindsay Lohan) and crazily imagined what it would be like if I had the life of Annie Parker in the movie (not the musical). I love the country, the culture, the food, the Grant, the Potter, the Rowling, the Little Mix, the Nigella, the Sherlock, the Cumberbatch, and that bloody accent of theirs. This is a dangerous hole to dive in with me so let's move on.


       There are, however, the exceptions to the rule.  Meaning, leaving them alone drives them nuts.  They thrive off on gaining everyone's attention constantly.  Having the crowd follow their every whim gives them satisfaction and, I guess, assurance.  Personally, those are the kind that drains the bejesus out of me so I tend to stay away from them to protect my zen but what else can you do if you happen to be surrounded by them, right?  Well, prayer helps a lot that the heavens may grant you patience as long as the Nile and as bountiful as a full on Thanksgiving dinner on steroids.  It also takes a great deal of maturity to understand and handle difficult half-empties.  Tough love can be painful to give but if required, you've got to stand your ground even if it means standing alone.  Being understanding and giving chances is one thing.  Condoning abusive and manipulative behaviour is another.

        I remember how eaten up I used to be with all the half-empties I've encountered.  I used to worry so much and get immensely affected by words that shouldn't even have scratched my surface.  With time and age, and lots of beer, I've learned to manage my expectations of people so what used to tear up my heart to bits merely poke me now.  Insults, however said or done, are nothing but noise.  They're junk mail that should be sent straight to trash once you see it.  They're just virus that get past your firewall every once in a while.  They're those annoying pop-up ads that deserve to be blocked.  Don't bother feeding the trolls.  Don't give them power over your thoughts, your peace, or your heart.  No one is allowed that role except for the ones that make you believe in rainbows and the ones who know how to appreciate a good cup of joe.  They're the best kind. xx

Questions

Healing. Acceptance.
Two words I have yet to understand.
Can time really heal the wounds?
Does it start with a helping hand?

Will forgiveness come naturally
like in a year or two?
Or will it take a lifetime and the next
to live with something I can never undo?

Will I ever be vindicated
or will I remain misunderstood?
Will their lies remain in power
while my truth kept hidden from view?

Must I always be judged without fair trial?
Must it always be a one-sided jury?
Must money and profession always overrule
what the heart and conscience once used to fuel?

When all you did was make it work
but all he did was grow berserk.
You tried to nurture and put up with what's left
but he turned away and gave more somewhere else.

And while all his short-comings were passed on to you,
You took the punches with credit you're not even due.
Even then, you're still to blame they all say.
You put yourself in this mess, girl.. You chose to stay.

So what happens now?
What lies ahead for this messed up wreck?
What kind of ending awaits?
Maybe Ralph could help me out here.
Will Fix-It-Felix teach me some of his tricks?