in lababo

I don’t know. I am in love. I am happy. My mind wanders.
I think I love him. I don’t know,  for when all of history has mentioned that the heart acts separately from the mind, I say I think I love him. But yes. It is only the most logical thing to say. I am in love with him.
I say that not with a whim on my heart. Not because I do not feel it, but more so because it is what I know.
Do I find happiness in his company? Yes.
Does he make me smile even for no reason at all just by the mere thought of him? Yes.
Does he excite me to look ahead and plan to fix my life? Yes.
Do I imagine a future with him more than usual? Yes.
Do I see in that future all the fights and arguments that we will have and lose and win and all the pain that well bring upon each other and all the times we will end up for giving each other and stay together in spite of every single fucked up thing? Definitely yes.
Do I find myself willing to defy all conventions and come out of the closet and hold his hand and kiss him in public no matter what other people say? Yes.
I know I am in love with him. No denying that. This I know. I feel it too. But more importantly all signs point to yes.
This will take a lot of work. I’m messed up and he’s fixing me little by little. That makes me happy.
Happiness takes a toll on my writing. More than that, love takes a toll on my writing.

icebreaker 005

Occupations you wanted to be when you were a kid?

I wanted to be a priest. Not in the pedophillic sense of course, but yes, because I was amazed by Theology at one point, and I think I thought that those things would not be dwelled upon in any normal school but instead just if I wanted to study to become a priest.

And I kinda liked the movie The Exorcist.

Ever had plastic surgery?

Nope. I never had the money for it.

But if I ever did have the capacity to get any type of cosmetic or body morphing surgery, I would prefer to be taller by extending my tibia. I here they do that in China.

Do you drink? Smoke? Do drugs? Why, or why not?

I drink. Not a lot. I think I would like to call myself a “social drinker” but yeah, fuck that. I have had a handful of instances where I have been known to be stinking drunk and unruly as such, but then again, since I never have any distinct recollections of such events even happening (or even doing those things that eyewitnesses tell me I did, save for some incriminating pictures allegedly posted somewhere online), I think that is a lie. If I don’t remember it, it simply did not happen.

I smoke. About a half pack or so a day they say it’s too much, but then again I am already smoking, that alone is already technically wrong, or so doctors always tell you even if they do too.

I do drugs. Yes. occasionally on occasion. I never do drugs alone and I have always stuck to the herbal kind. I do drugs when I am sick too, or else how do I manage to get well? You just can’t concentrate away the flu, you know.

What gets you out of bed in the morning?

My two legs and a barely audible alarm from my phone.

For some time, I had my body clock working for me, but some few years back I lost control of it altogether. Must be the transition from one shift to another at work until I have literally gone through all available shifts, or maybe just because I still feel that sleep is a good waste of anyone’s time and should only be taken by the minimum effective dose which is about four or so hours for me (based on experience, no scientific proof).

Would you ever use an online dating service?

I have. And yes, sometimes it works, but not for me.

So there.

大法師 The Exorcist

 

plans fall apart (well, hopefully not this one)

I have not been too big on plans in all my life. I have always told my friends that at far as plans go, I do it on very very short term basis, nothing spanning more than the next few days or weeks. I think that’s my small way of avoiding disappointing myself too much. By making small short term plans, I only set myself up for small failures, thus small disappointments. If I had plan something with a longer term, then failing that would be on me at least twice the term of the failed plan itself. And who would want to live their whole life in self loathing, right? Raise your hands and prepare to get shot.

But, and it’s a big BUT, in as much as a life of self loathing and regret is not that attractive, so is a life of just plain regret. So in the spirit of getting old, and growing past and beyond my supposedly extended quarter-life crisis, or, in a worst-case scenario, early pre-mid-life-crisis, I am attempting to draft a long-term plan. A long-ish term plan, about three or four or five years, forgive me, I’m still trying to iron out the details as I am writing this, while watching the second season of New Girl, in which I really wish to hit Jesse in the head for doing a “Parent Trap” at her age and a Master’s Degree but then it’s Zooey Deschanel so I’m slightly torn.

So here’s the plan.

Save. Now that my earlier plan of getting my own place is basically put on hold, it would probably serve me best to save up in a big way starting next year. Looking for a suitable investment for the past few weeks certainly put things into perspective for me. Every year end I look at my paycheck and can’t believe where my money has been going. Actually, it’s not that I can’t believe it, I just don’t know where it went. I guess it’s the small things, really. Dinners, lunches, cigarettes perhaps. But I’m planning to try and cut back on most of that and then maybe the end of next year would see me smiling at my portfolio, instead of frowning at where my money went.

Dispose and Use. Odd combination, yes. I think in general, it’s just that I have a lot of stuff. A lot of stuff. Random stuff. Books, papers, shirts, shoes, just a lot of stuff. And I don’t really use most of it. Part of the plan would be to render myself easily mobile by disposing of a lot of stuff in the house and in my life. I’m thinking of giving them away, or maybe donating them somewhere. Or better yet, sell some of them in a gigantic garage sale. That could earn me a couple of bucks, right? I think most of them would not fetch for much but all of them stuff combined would just be golden. And then, for those things that I actually decide to keep, I should use them more. Dispose of the things I don’t use and use those that are left even more. Heck, that might be a mantra I could adopt even for my friends.

Change. Ever since I have started working, I have grown accustomed to a lifestyle that is a bit on the edge of my means, but I think given my situation (no rent, no kids, no contributions or regular cash-outs for my parents or family) it was still within my means. I have to change that. If I would like to imagine a more sustainable life in the next five years, I would have to get used to living with all kinds of responsibilities in mind, save more and tone down the spending on everything. I think my gym membership can go first, just for starters. Now that I am close to thirty, I don’t think my body’s going to change all that much anyway, but of course there’s always a possibility that that could not go as planned either way.

I think these three points are good. It’s to early to call them New Year’s resolutions but then again, it’s never to late to change I suppose. Looking back, there are not really plans so much as very very vague goals. I think I would have to pick my brain out for the details on how each very very vague goal would pan out. But that should be for another time. I have other plans, at least just for the next 20 more hours.

where’s the off switch?

From the way this would look, of course it is true that I have not gotten any proper sleep again tonight, contrary to all the plans I would have wanted to fulfill.

I miss time all to myself. I miss the time I had not thinking about most things and all things and all at once. I miss those days that I spent on the beach, without so much a care but where and what to eat next and just a few minutes away from the next sunset. I think that’s the downside of taking long vacations. The fact that you’d have to get back. And even now, a few weeks later, the last of the kalamansi muffins devoured even as it turned almost like scones or maybe biscotti in the refrigerator, I still feel I should have stayed at the beach and never looked back.

If only it was that easy to let things go. If only it was that easy to decide not to think.