I am inlove with him. There can never be anything far more greater than him beside me. I want him beside me--and that is an understatement.

He works his ass off in some foreign land with weird-speaking people, while I bury my germ-induced lips onto a ziggy stick--dying in a god-only-knows-how -much-i-miss him mood. He calls regularly, and I listen to him and his i-miss-you-stories. He talks me to sleep.

And i miss him more than I can define the word itself.

We always have an excuse for anything faulty we commit. An excuse, is a lame, but oftentimes logical statement for our assertions.
Example, when we are late (and are just taking public transportation), we apologize for being so and put the blame to reckless jeepney drivers who patiently wait for passengers at the middle of the road. Traffic. Or, our alarm clock wasn't loud enough to rattle our consciousness. Or, the water system failed to support your shower necessities. Or, your mother forgot to wake you up. Or you were just plainly, excessively boozed up last night. Excuses, excuses.


When we forget something ( or an important event with which we were expected to greet people--read: monthsaries et.al.), we apologize and then continue on saying that we were preoccupied with something, or something more important came up. Or we intentionally did forget because they also forgot to greet you last month...(revenge, should I say?)

When we seem to be in "hater-mugger" mood and had unintentionally(or intentionally, in some cases) offended/annoyed/displeased other people, we blame it to stress, which can either be work-related or emotional.

We are always apologetic--and finger-pointing.

When will we learn to truthfully apologize for something erroneous we had intentionally or unintentionally committed?

When will we ever say "sorry" --and just meaningfully say it, without blaming it to something?

When will we ever enjoy the art of apologizing because we are reallly regretful of what we did--and quit passing the blame on to others?

I rarely feel annoyed by a human being other than my younger brother. My skill for annoying people has just been upgraded to a masteral’s degree, that no one can “out-annoy” me better than I can annoy anyone. People who try to annoy me are instantly categorized as just another dust at the tip of my shoe.

Well, except for that last instance when I finally decided to give up on my turf and admit that there is always someone better than you are. Let’s call him HIM.

I have hated him even from the first time I saw him. He is my male version—only worse. He’s loud, annoying and well, annoying. Since day one, he has annoyed me effortlessly and proudly. I hated the way he talked to people, how he drank his beer, how he laughed, how he made people listen to him and his 36-year old stories. I was too annoyed to think how to counter his attack. I was just plainly “dumb-founded”.

But there must have been something more than that. When I could’ve done something to avoid him, I didn’t. Gradually, the hate mutated into apathy, then apathy to being apologetic for hating him that much when I should’ve given more time to know him—and then just judge him afterwards.

And so to compensate for being such a bitch, I corrected my blunder and started getting to know him—and then some. I found out that there is only a 4-day interval between our birthdays and that we share the same birth sign, so to say. Not so bad for a guilty starter, huh? We have many things in common, you’d be surprised for the things you’ll know and will never know. If I didn’t know better I’d probably think he was spying on me. Well, to cut the story short, apathy suddenly turned into “interest”. I realized that I got so interested with him—he became more like a challenge for me, and that it was too late for me to “unravel” him because he was leaving for Hong Kong.

Time ran its usual course, and I guess some ‘unidentified forces’ took turns in making something out of nothing. By the time he went back to the Philippines for his annual Christmas vacation, we were already IT. Unlike novelty couples, our relationship felt like fat-free chocolate—it was too good to be true. It was so sickening to think that we were so damn compatible, sometimes it scares the wits out of our furs. It has always been said that we always hurt the people we love (yeah…yeah…) but for us, we need to hurt each other every so often. The reason may lead you into thinking that we have gone bonkers—we just needed to keep our relationship feasible for humans as possible and not some romantic Hollywood blockbuster movie plot. WE needed something to make it normal or something that can alter this monotous flow of perfectness just so we can feel human again.

But, just like any long-distance relationships, we were also subject to occasional “miss” moments. It’s times like these that we hang on to our mobile phones for strength! It’s times like these that we turn back on our “moments together” just to keep us going momentarily. It’s times like these when you blame geography for placing a sea between the Philippines and Hong Kong. It’s times like these when a day suddenly has 60 hours. It is just so damn hard.

But we are always capable of devising clever ways to battle emotional stress (what a word!). Sometimes, I get into fits of giggles recalling his efficient, and desperate attempts to cheer me up! Every night, he’d call me before going to bed just so I could hear him say “meamie ko”. He calls me up to report even the most miniscule information, like his PC broke down or he just bit his tongue or something.

And so “interest” turned into something deeper which I refuse to call love, but have no other choice but to do so. It has been exactly 29 days back since we got engaged, and everytime I am reminded of it, i feel like I have just been awarded a lifetime supply of fat-free chocolates. I have never gotten tired thinking about it, and I think I’ll never will. For a typical 21-year old, this may be too young an age to choose a knot (which leads to tying it...) and accept the proposal of a man fashioned in the most traditional way imaginable. I guess, it takes one person to change the life of another person.

I rarely feel annoyed by another human being other than my younger brother. People who try to annoy me are instantly categorized as just another dust at the tip of my shoe. Luckily, that dust at the tip of my shoe got stuck and will hang on for the rest of my life.

It takes a heap of dust to justify the purpose of a shoe.

(Until eventually, and strangely enough, the heap of dust would camouflage to look like the shoe.)

She is probably the most promising individual I have ever met in my life. One would be attracted to her in the eye, though this should not be equated to the attraction of the mind. She has been physically gifted of bodily assets that can send even the most decent man to salivation. She is like food—tempting, but nauseating She is sweet, if that word means edible.
I am connected to her in the most uncomfortable way. Other people even often find it idiotic for me to be in any way near her—worse, friends with her. I know her, casually (and there is such a thing!), but there is nothing deep-rooted to that.
In a recent conversation I have had with her this week, she told me she was unhappy for reasons she refused to divulge. She feels like her life suddenly became routinary and that she’s bored of her ho-hum activities. None of my business, I suppose. The conversation, fortunately, did not go any deeper. As of now, all I know is the scab of her unhealing wound.
Anyway, I met up with her yesterday—accidentally. I know it sounds scriptedly coincidental, but believe it. Again, we did something we are most comfortable of doing—smoking. She was waiting for a male friend so I decided to keep her company over a bottle of white wine. The conversation became something I hoped I did not expect…
Being friends with your boyfriend’s ex is more of a research for me than a dog hunt. She feeds you subliminal, sugar-coated informations about the person you both have in common. In the first place, she knows more things than you, she has been there, and she has done that. Consequently, these information may or may not have a direct impact on your judgment—and I am always the judge.
She may be more knowledgeable than me, but hey, I know better.

I find the proliferation of teeny boppers taking the shortcut to stardom absurd, if not hilarious. Major television networks have now created a contemporary world of nostalgia subliminally taking advantage of our youth’s extravagant dreams in hitting the spot the easier route. For them, reality TV contests like Starstruck or Star Circle Quest (or anything that has STAR on it) and the like are their new niche, an avenue for them to display their seemingly fair and needs improvement talents and skills. These major TV networks waste their time and energy in producing individuals that are not, if solely concerned with perfecting the art of smiling, are banking on their below average talent in the performing arts as their sure-shot ticket in the interesting world of Vanity Fair.
With the sudden emergence of this behavioral altruism created by the blinding lights of fame and fortune, our youths tend to neglect a number of things. They are so into their present that sometimes they fail to take a peek into their future. They allow the present take full control of their logic and procrastinate on one thing that counts most: planning.
Most of the blinded youths joining in these reality TV contests quit school in order to give full attention to their so-called stints to popularity. Half of them take the other form of suicide, and kill their selves by attending school while simultaneously going through a series of tedious auditions here and there (and practically everywhere!). Some even try the “makaawa effect” (read: ayoko nang maging dukha!) and use this as a scapegoat intricately planned to swat off detractors who believes that show business is so baduy. Once, I even caught an interview with one of the “blinded youngsters” and he adamantly told the interviewer that his parents even resigned on their jobs to fully support their offspring’s shot to stardom. The blinded youth, by the way is the eldest among the brood of five. (How supportive naman his parents!)
The question: is this a new sociological construct with which we riskly expose the future leaders of our land? By watching them in our boob tubes in a somewhat compulsive manner, are we tolerating them as they immerse their selves in the deceiving world of show business. As we watch them every single night (like our life greatly depended on it), we become “entertained” witnesses to their fanfare suicide. As viewers, are we guilty of shaping the society’s demand from the entertainment world , or are we simply victims of a crime subliminally committed by top rating TV shows? Are we accepting that this new behavior is a part of a progressive civilization under the powerful persuasion of the entertainment media.?
Don’t blame us if by a decade from now, we have a presidential candidate whose platform is to uplift the dental health of all Filipino citizens in order for them to perfect the craft of “smiling”. Think.
Harder.

(***Note: The viewpoints/opinions expressed in this post are not necessarily of that of the writer. She may change her stand regarding the matter, probably the very moment that you read this. Besides, she gets satisfaction from watching StarStruck especially now that another blinded youth (who happens to be a Kapampangan) got into the top 10—and whose modus operandi is to deceive people, create an alter personality so as to gain votes. )