Seventy-fifth: Stereo

I just drove my best friend, Sandra, to the airport. It's sad knowing I won't get up next to her later. Nobody's gonna bug me to sleep beside her at the time that she wants to. I'm going to miss her terribly.

 

I trust time will let us see each other again, the soonest as possible. Until then, these pictures will suffice.

P.S. Car shots are possibly one of the bests-- where it's cramped and noisy. :-D

Seventy-fourth: Too much thoughts

I haven't blogged for a long while now. You could excuse me because I'm trying to keep up with the things thrown my way-- work, family, friends, and life in general. I'm busy making my life count. And when I'm online, with the ultimate goal of writing down the day/week that has been, I'm lost in the moment of the words and pictures I read and see from people I don't even know. There is a lot of talent oozing with every click that I make. Then, I forget. I promise again (and again) to make up for the times I've set writing aside. It has been a cycle for me. But how can you not mind the beauty and convenience the web gives?

My best friend, Sandra, from my hometown, Zamboanga, is in town for a short visit. She's in the opposite room while I'm out here trying to collect my thoughts. It's a nice feeling knowing I could be comfortable with the silence our situation brings. It isn't odd. We have been together the entire day-- nonstop laughing and talking. This time tonight though, we're apart. As I write, I remember the place I grew up in. People would give me this unusual look that tells me mystery and suspicion has painted the town red if they know I come from the said city. It has grown popular not because our dialect is understood only by a few but because of negative publicity and media hype, almost to a fault and insult. Still, that is home for me. I've made great friends and memories there. I feel the need to defend my hometown from how the public has deemed it unsafe and treacherous.
So much has happened tonight, I feel the sheets of my bed calling me. :)

I've been telling myself for months now that I was in love. At least, it felt that way to me. I felt so inspired to go to work. It seemed life was lovelier and more colorful. It sounds cliche, but it's true. I've always seen myself daydreaming about him-- that someday, we might actually end up together. It felt like a nice dream that I didn't want to wake up. I had to pinch myself several times to remind me that things and feelings change. And that happened today. As I was driving home, I stopped and thought of the day that has transpired. I had a very serious crush at somebody, so serious it was alarming and disconcerting me in all the wrong places. I send my best friend and a few other very close friends text messages of how madly in love I was.
I fell for the wrong person. I fell for the wrong person at a wrong time, now this is even more honest. He is in a relationship and happily in love with the same girl for years now. How could I ever hit on somebody who's in a relationship? How could I ever like him? How could I still even think of being with him? I was insane and no reason could ever justify the feelings I've had for him. Maybe because he's one of the good things that has happened to me in a long time. Maybe because I thought there was something with the way he stared at me-- sincere and caring. Maybe I gave an altogether different meaning with the times he's held my hand after exchanges of silly jokes and banters or with the times he'd wait for me because I had to finish up some things or with the times we'd have our meals together. 
You see, even before I found myself falling for him, we were friends. I became a little too comfortable in his presence. I'd look forward to seeing him, and if that doesn't happen, I will myself to dream about him. 
Then it hit me, I don't think I could ever sacrifice our friendship or put it on the line. He's in a relationship. I had to distance myself and know my limits. I should know when enough is enough. Early today, while we were talking about something funny, he excused himself to answer a text from his girl. And, that didn't hurt me. Not at all. I surprised myself there. Was it for real? I'd say yes. Our friendship is more important. His happiness is my happiness and I say that with sincerity. I am pretty much contented with the times we are together at work. 
It would be an insult to my morale to continue to flirt with him. It's about time I stop before any of my actions result to any repercussion I know I will regret. 
-- 
Dear Him, 
You are one of the greatest things that has EVER happened to me. Thank you for being a friend. You've taught me that sometimes, it is OK to let my guard down. I can be myself when I'm with you, and although you tease me mercilessly, I enjoy it because then we exchange the loudest laugh. This isn't a sad ending because our friendship is a treasure in itself. 
Take care and see you around. :)

Seventy-second: Grey sky mornings

Only a little light is coming out from my almost-dark-pink curtain. It feels as if it's always sundown. At this time of the year, the nights are getting longer, so that makes it almost impossible to get up from bed. I find myself snoozing the alarm every ten minutes or so. Then I wake up and come to my full senses because had I slept around for another minute, I wouldn't be able  to come to work on time. It has been that way lately-- struggling to wake up and face the day with so much stuff to do but with more than enough willingness to go through them. Thank you, Lord.

Don't get me wrong, October is a good month. I like it.

It's a little over 7 in the morning, and the sun isn't even out. The sky is grey, as if rain is here  to come. I try to gather my thoughts, because honestly, there's a lot and I just want to keep writing them down until my brain says enough.

Work is good. Whereas before I usually hear myself ranting, now all seems a tad better. It doesn't feel like I'm obliged to finish my eight-hour shift (sometimes extending to twelve). I love the company I'm in and the nice feeling I get after work. Through all these, God is my strength and refuge-- constantly reminding me to take tasks one at a time. I am only human and trying to get things done altogether never really works. For a time, yes, but that only leaves me tired and breathless.

I had a minor falling out with a co-worker. I think he's rude. His words and actions were inappropriate. But who am I kidding when I tried to make things even with him? He doesn't really care. He'd still do the same things again and again. I realized how unnecessary my speaking up against him was. But at that time, I had to do it. I could never bear it in me to have someone look down on me, as  if he's all-knowing when clearly he isn't. Now, everything's a blur as I try to put that behind me.

I totally hate it when I have to stop in the middle of writing. I'd get back on this in a short  while.  :)

Seventy-first: I rant.

Would it be too far-fetched to continue on daydreaming for something grand, that turns out to be absolutely incredulous or preposterous, to one day happen in my life? When I was in the third grade, my dance teacher broke my heart. Everyone in my class made it in the Dance Club. We were so happy because that's just one of the coolest organizations to be in at that time. I know I danced like a bamboo, only my arms were swaying whereas the body as one should be. It takes me more than an hour to get the dance moves being taught. I practiced endlessly and without any complaint because the feeling of happiness it gave me was a reward in itself. The next Friday after our rehearsal, the announcement she made, in front of beaming children, was more than an eight-year-old skinny child like me could take. I was the ONLY one cut off from the group. Yes, I cried for months and I hated her. I thought, "How could she?!" My efforts would have made up for my lack of grace and skill in dancing. That meant something! :( Of course it did because I stopped attending ballet lesson and art class altogether. I refused to don on my leotard, tights and shoes for every afternoon's practice. It has affected me to a great extent!

But that was ages ago. I'm an adult now, but deep inside I still wish I were a world-class dancer. You see,  this was what I was daydreaming about. Something grand, in my definition, means being able to dance gracefully as with all other good dancers I know. It would mean my arms and legs don't go against each other while I try hard to keep up with the beat and the steps. I wish I didn't give up ballet class. I would love to see how far I could have gone, in terms of my skills  (or lack of thereof).

I also find myself wishing I went up after my dreams of becoming a linguist or working in a diplomat's office in some other foreign country. Of course, regret wouldn't get me anywhere. I love being a nurse but there's just something in being able to fulfill a high school dream. Maybe I'd get there, maybe I won't. I might devote my time when I have few things to worry about; then, I just might not.

P.S. One funny thing I do even when people cringe their noses and crease their foreheads because they find it hilarious is when I belt out a tune or sing with the song on the radio. I know my voice isn't the one you would love to be waking up in the morning to, and it doesn't even come close, but at least I got that frustration out. I don't sing well and my voice sounds like the one you hear from a broken record, but having it ticked off from my "grand" list is a nice feeling, I tell you.

Seventieth: Homebody

I've realized how boring my life MIGHT be. Is it my fault that I prefer reading books and eating good food over a night out in a bar? Is it wrong to decline invitations of friends to go see a movie then chill out after (and by chill, they meant booze after booze)? Really, I'm just a homebody at heart. My days off from work meant sprawled up on the sofa while catching up with my favorite T.V. shows or cooking dishes only I would have the guts to eat. I basically content myself with all stuff you can just do at the comforts of your home. BUT then it hit me, am I really missing out on something by choosing to stay home? I hope not. I guess not, because I have close friends who are pretty much like me. Oh dear life, I know there's more to you outside the four corners of my room, but you would know how tempting my bed is after a tiring week at work.

So just today because I thought I'd wanted to unleash the "fun" side of me, I sent my best friend, Anne, a message. I challenged her, too, to go out with me on days when we're both free. We'd drive to nearby city-- sounds like an adventure, or  have picnic on green grasses while munching on sweet corns (must do).

My mama would always say that the secret to  living a happy life is to live in contentment. I am, honestly, contented with the things I have, with the people in my life,  with my job, and with how I spend my living days. I will be a forever homebody, and I don't see anything wrong with it. :)

Sixty-ninth: Warped

Arvin

Phillip

Mario

JC

ma'am Cath

What lovely eyes, gurl!