whiney me.

i have nothing to write about. what do i do? things to do...hmm...go to makati, go to mayon, go to cubao, pick up tita, drive home. paint at midnight. go to school with a headache. shoot some stuff. paint and submit plates. stretch canvasses at night. sometimes i think i've been a teacher for too long that my life is busy but stagnant. if i could shut down my senses voluntarily, i would've done so. i have tried so hard to be happy and sontent in my own little shell. but then i'd look like a teenage mutant ninja turtle.

my bestfriend is leaving for mindoro anytime soon and i'll be stuck with long days in UP for 3 weeks. i went to cubao today and it was lovely. it still has that cubao feel. i remember my cousin, jeannie. she lives in hawaii and a long time ago, when she was around 7, we went to cubao during christmas season. and she thought she was in vegas. funny.

funny how the guy who paints the house divided a pack of 3 in 1 coffee for 3 people. and funny how another guy thought that it would be cool to race cars in a golf driving range. the everyday people makes me laugh and go up and fall again into that feeling of apathy. and funny how i can feel myself falling. and why do i wonder, is the feeling of falling actually freeing? and it pulls my innards all down into the core of the earth and pop goes my bubble.

and i'm back on the ground.

why do we choose feelings that are so inconvenient for ourselves and why are we never content? but why am i content with being a spectator, a wallflower, a friend, a neighbor? why can't i be the star of my own show. maybe it got too old, and i got too old and my time just passed me by. if darkness falls, the twilight revs up, too.

why should i let this affect me? why should i let my emotions take the best of me? why can't i do the things i'm supposed to do and why can't a 27 year old kid can't have her cake and eat it , too. too much sweets, i guess. then let me stand in my corner and let me paint my dreams.

let me do this, let me take pleasure in my time. i never wanted anything, anyone, nothing, except you. and you. fuel me up and let me burn. i have so many things to say, but so much to lose.

i am so dependent on the familiar. maybe i want to, maybe i don't. maybe i have a wild bunch of hormones. maybe i just hate my hair. i wished someone a plenty supply of beauty , color, and music and a lot of bright days. and i take it back and now i wish them for myself. who do i love the most? my poor sorry self.

i wish for quiet. and for distance.
i love the feeling of being constricted.
but i choke fast.
i want smiles and touch, i want the pale hands, i want the warm security.
i want for tears to stop clinging to the edge of my eyes. and i want to hear you.
i sometimes convince myself that empty is all,
but the sight of the light changes my mind.
all i want is for me to bring back what i've lost. or probably, intoxicate myself and trick myself to feel that old feeling of you.

i have a busy life, but being a teacher for this long makes them all stagnant. and i feel so drawn to the good life but i only turn out worse than yesterday.