Women Woes

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Woman, what are you?

*deep sigh

I'm trying to figure out what the real score on my orientation, my gender, my design is. I have always thought that my gender is just another one of those characteristics I embody, not anything else that differs me much from the other half of the species of this planet, not anything so huge that could affect my lifestyle and activities... I mean, I have never thought myself distinct from men. I thought that I could do what they do, that it's not exactly different at all; except that I solely prefer men when it comes to romantic involvements, nothing else makes it different for me and them. Well, and of course, all the other biological stuff per se. 

But, recently, as I get to know more people and get to know more women and get to know more men, at the phase of my life when I'm already entirely deviated from childhood (in the structure of society), I am having these moments. I feel different from men in a conscious manner. That I cannot be like them, like... them. That I have my own distinct qualities, and they have their own, and I shouldn't try to take over their roles. Or something like that. It's become inexpressible for me, and it brings me to deep thinking on this new aspect of humanity that I am getting exposed to, that I am, or should be, embracing. It's like finding someone within my heart and allowing her to surface. This woman in me, I guess, it's trying to take over.

And it's weird.

I was raised up in a family full of women. Most of the women in my family are single, my mom has been a single parent for more than a decade now. I have been single since I first saw the world. And, I have never thought myself in need of someone to carry my bag for me because I never saw anyone take off the carriage behind my mother. And that kind of modeling proved me that a woman is strong enough to take on the roles of both sexes. Somehow, it's been what I have been modeling myself after as well. 

I don't ask for help from men when I'm carrying heavy stuff, I don't need them to open the door for me, to give way for me in the line, to allow me to get in first, and all the other gentlemen stuff. I have never really been a huge fan of those actions because I consider them vanity--steel weights to boost their ego muscles. And I still don't feel like wanting those special treatments, just because I'm a woman and their men. It's weird, I cannot reconcile myself yet to it. 

But the environment I'm in encourages me to take this pride on my gender off and allow them to feel empowered, though of course, I don't think that it's the kind of empowerment they need... ugh, I'm going crazy with all these arguments in my head. Of course, people could just easily say, "If you don't want, then don't ask for it. What's the big deal here?"

The big deal is my design and God's purpose for it. I have been realizing that I haven't been acting along the design that I should be in, that I'm trying to free myself from that position where I should be in. And it's not because God wants to limit me, but because He wants to maximize my life to its fullest. And I could only do that if I obey the Lord, and act accordingly. 

And one more thing that makes it not good for me to be trying to take over men's roles is that it's because of pride. And nothing else. I don't want anyone to think that I'm in need of them, generally. But I do need people around me. When I'm carrying heavy stuff, they're definitely heavy, and I could use a hand. I fail to acknowledge that I am weak and I have my own limitations because I want people to think I am strong enough to take care of myself. Which may be the case, but not the ultimate. People need people. And I guess this, among all the other things in this planet, is part of the mechanisms in our lives' ecosystem. Our interactions are naturally caused by our designs, our need to be part of something because we're incomplete on our own. We were all designed to complement one another, the humans, the animals, the plants, the air, the everything. The physique of this realm is proof that we're interdependent creatures. And so, failure to comply to our own design destructs the natural flow of this system--if not breaking us or the others around us, puts us into a limit. Imagine a duck taking on the role of a lion, it's not gonna work, it's highly inefficient, it's foolish. A single man who lives in a cave and says that he can live on his own breathes in air, drinks water, and eats from the trees around his place--he still continually interacts with the natural system because he cannot provide air, water, and food for himself from his own body. And I guess, that is how we were designed, we cannot do everything for ourselves.

These are words for myself as I am coming into terms with what on earth I am here for, with the design that I have been made of, with the interactions that come along with it. I haven't really moved on or have changed my own responses to men and to the circumstances that link us, but I am learning. And I realized it's fatal to resist my design. I am fooling no one but myself. I am hindering myself from greater things ahead of me. And, I guess that part of the journey is getting to know myself, and embracing the truth for which I exist. 

Phases Faces Paces

Tila ba mga bulong na walang tinig

Mga guni-guning umaaligid

Hindi mawari para saan pa't may alaala

Lumisan nga ngunit yapak ay nariyan pa

Naririnig ang dating kwentuhan

Mga biro at tawa ay palakasan

"Halika't doo'y samahan mo ako"

"Tara," at iiwan ang inuupuang bangko

At kapag ang araw ay nagdaan,

Sa may karinderya'y mag-aayaan

Bibili ng isang platitong ulam

Na siyang paghahati-hatian

Mga wasak na puso'y tila mga sinulid

Na siyang humahatak mula sa kun anumang gawain

"Ang puso ko ay puno ng pighati"

"Tara, at sa tindahan tayo magpalipas ng gabi"

At pupunuin ng mga pangarap ang puso

Aawit at magbibigay ng mga payo

Na minsan ay kalokoha't katatawanan

Madalas nama'y may aral na kapupulutan

At ngayon, ako ay nasa isang silid

Ang oras ay tumatakbo ng walang pasabi

Sa aking gunita, kayo ay namamasyal

Nananatili, naglalaro, at tila hindi lilisan 

People Speak to People

The stretch of time has been visible
Though unfathomable
There has been so much in words
But incomprehensible
And as the whole city is observed
There is a hope beheld
And though there are only angsts
There will be a light upheld

You tell me, 'My fingers are ten'
I ask, so what is it for
I ask you, is there anything you live for
You say, 'My hours are consumed'
There is a heavy and empty banter above
There is thirst and hunger around
There is so much wisdom hanging on paper
Nothing is done to thine wisdom's vapor

One day you will wake up and say
'I have so much words and my fingers are not bent'
And as you look around the steady high tides
Mist will cover the opening of your eyes

I Miss My Dad

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One of the most difficult things about longing probably is missing someone you won't see anymore. It's like a memory that's hazy and foggy--you know it's real, but it doesn't feel like it is anymore. Coupled with regrets and hopes which are to no avail, the longing gets even more unbearable at the worst instances.

It's been a lot of years now since Daddy passed away. A decade to be exact. I was 11 then, stupid and unaware of the effects of death. It just won't strike you as real or anything big at once, well, at least for me. It didn't happen that way. For all it was, I was wondering more than I was grieving. I found it normal. I found it as something which happens to anyone, anytime. I wasn't the grieving girl type when it happened.

Until the fact struck me. I remember the sad dreams that haunted me months after the event. I cried in my sleep, more of because I hoped the dreams were real. I cry when my mind wakes up, and realizes none of it were true. (When I wake up from a dream, I don't usually automatically open my eyes). The content of the dreams are usually the same, my father returns, an indication that he has already left. And at the end of it, leaves. Usually, he leaves when I am unaware of it, that I'll wander a little, thinking he's gonna be there when I return. Usually, in my dreams, I get lost looking for him. Maybe these are projections of my hopes that he'll still return. Because the grave doesn't look like it's full. It looks like a bed of grass with nothing else beneath it.

When I miss him, I feel like curling into a ball because I want to hug him so badly, but I know I couldn't ever anymore; because my chest hurts so badly, I want to make the pain seize; because I want to be like a little girl again, forgetting everything. There were those quiet sobbing at some nights, trying to conceal the pain. Sometimes the triggers are quite simple, a chocolate bar, a string of beads, a fragrance, a tall man, different things that remind me of him.

They say that time heals wounds, but I realized that the wounds will turn to scars--visible reminders of pain. And though they say scars don't hurt anymore, sometimes, it feels like there are frail scars, they hurt when you touch them. And though it is a decision to move forward and to not dwell on pain, it is human frailty to go back and wish things were different.

I have been healed from the pain, yes. But remembering is just inevitable, especially when someone deeply dear to you cannot be there for you anymore, all you have left are the memories and hopes. And though it is to no avail I hope he returns, I look forward to let him remain in my heart. Moving forward doesn't come with forgetting, shouldn't even. I told myself I should not dwell in the pain of the past anymore, but I concluded that doesn't mean I forget the beauty of it. How could I easily forget the only time I depended on a man? How could I forget that once in my life I have been carried? How could it be easy to unremember that time all I was waiting for was Daddy to appear on the school gates and pick me up?

I am thankful for the turns of events that crafted me to be who I am right now. I am thankful that it didn't go otherwise. I am thankful that everything has been well-orchestrated by my dear Creator. And though I remember, I won't go back and try to remedy things and try to do the improbable and impossible. I am happy to be reminded that my father was a good man who loved me and my siblings so much. I am happy to have had him in my life. Knowing that the Lord's design is for me not to have him in the entirety of my temporary existence, I am thankful that for the first eleven years in my life, I have been taken care of by someone like him. Time is rolling, and the time that I have had no Dad will be longer than the time he was with us, but my desire is to continue to treasure the memory of one of the most beautiful people I have ever met in this life.

Thank you, Daddy. Thank you so much.

Whatever is...

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Among the many and diverse characteristics of us humans is our vulnerability--that one phenomenon that makes or breaks us. For me, I would define it as a trait that makes the things and people in our surroundings able to have an effect on or affect us. And, I can attest to the fact that it is present in every single one of us. We all are vulnerable.

As a Christian woman who has been striving to live a life of worship, I would say that the things around me attribute to my being. I am as much of a human as every single one of my co-humans is. Rains happen, summers come, floods rise up, lands get dried... life just simply goes on in a certain manner of difficulty. Honestly, it isn't easy. I like things which are different from what are right, the world around us can be so tempting--we sometimes feel like all we need to do is to go grab and get what it offers.

Despite the strong and aggressive efforts of the world to lure us into temptation though, we should be careful to keep ourselves preserved for the Utmost. We have been bought with a price, that which is more than silver or gold, more than riches or fame.

1 Corinthians 7:23-24, NLT

God paid a high price for you, so don't be enslaved by the world. 

Each of you, dear brothers and sisters, should remain 

as you were when God first called you.

And that calling started when we received Him, and acknowledged Him as lord and savior over our lives, therefore, that was upon us having been freed from our bond from the world. And the price He paid to buy us from that enslavery was the most precious blood of our dear Lord Jesus Christ. In the same manner, we should sacrificially offer ourselves before Him, trusting His greater plans for us, defying the lusts of the flesh, choosing what is honorable before Him.

Today, as I have thought about it, I have discovered that life wouldn't be easier from here onward. Things will happen, I will get my heart even more broken than I already have, and life will just continue to be life. But I have Him. And I want that to be the only thing that matters, for that to be enough for me. I may not be on that full scale of offering yet, but that is my desire because I know that I would be better off nowhere else than in His arms.

Dear Lord,
 I know that the world can be beautiful and glorious before my eyes--the grandiose of all such creation of men is too high it makes me want to climb. But to what will it avail if I follow my flesh and taint my worth off? To what will it avail if I obeyed my own desires and broke Your precious heart? Let me dare not to veer away from Your holiness, from Your orchestrations, from Your truths. Strengthen my heart that I will choose to honor You with whatever is true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent and praiseworthy in Your sight. I am nothing but a weak being, dysfunctional and demented to my own disgrace, but the price You have placed as my worth makes all things invaluable, crafting me to be nothing else but a woman called, "Yours". Meet my heartbeats with Your plans, and let me love You to my deepest. 
SP
 

"One day, I'll fall in love"

"One day, I'll fall in love"

And the wilted flowers are to bloom
While the storms will dance beneath the sun
The waves will crash the mountain peaks
And the days will never meet the nights

"One day, I'll fall in love,"

Screamed a lady trapped up above
Cried a little boy running in the streets
Said a man living with a paper and the pen
Whispered a woman who knew no one

"One day, I'll fall in love..."

And you will join me in the ride,
Finding out the best is always the next
And the next, and the next, and the next
As long as it's you and me, and that one day next.

Saturday Gets Real Stylez*

It's 10 minutes to Sunday, and I am gonna write down some (not-so-)fun facts I've concluded about myself throughout the day.

Note: These facts are stuff about me I am not willing to live wit hfor the rest of this month up until the rest of my life.

1. I cannot comply to routine. In a damaging way.

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Let me start by saying it's not cool. Well, it used to be. When life is all about me and me getting to do things I wanna do upon a signal sent from one of my dendrites to its axon to another one of my dendrites to... I mean, it was always by impulse. Well, to cut myself some slack, wise responses to impulses, which only become unwise due to their timing and being random and unplanned. Being chill and doing things unplanned is pretty fun, but not when you're working and living a life of being an adult. My point is that I don't have to live in routine, but I shouldn't live with no routines in. It's making my life totally disastrous to have routines, but it's making me inefficient and ineffective when I fail to comply to routines, which in turn, might (haven't happened in a major way yet) mess up not just my life but everyone else's around me. It would take me years to explain how routine can help, but it sure can... I just have to figure it out.

2. I am more sleepy than restless.

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I mean restless as in restless-to-go-and-explore-the-world mood. This is the number 1 saddest fact I have concluded about myself today. It was actually just a few minutes ago when I realized it. I want to be creative and be productive in response to it, but no, my mind has a lot of things it wants to work on, but it just ends up wanting to sleep more than do something that might be world-changing (Gina Linetti mode on). Look, I have these dreams of being an artist of words in some way, but it seems like I'm ready to flip them all over for a good night's sleep (or even an afternoon nap). And I am so dreamy (which might be from me being always sleepy), I don't understand why I cannot be more passionate and driven.

  
3. I don't like going anywhere on Sundays.

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Okay. For people who know me, this might sound surprising. But for people who really really know me (which I think are just me and God (and God's not counted because)), this is a fact. Sunday is like an extension of Saturday to me. On Saturdays, I get really hazy from watching movies/TV series, reading, getting cozy, and all that stuff which lead me to being up late on Sundays, which lead me to being so annoyed at the idea of being somewhere else than bed on a Sunday morning. And the anticipation of a week ahead makes me want to have Sunday all for myself alone. I know, I know, I know. It's not good. I have to learn how to rest, and rest in the Lord in this context. And I am going to fight this off. I will. I will. I will.


4. I've got more mirror neurons than I should have.

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I really have to stop my mirror neurons before they get me into trouble. Mirror neurons are those responsible for humans imitating and going after the people they actually like. Not "like like", just "like". This is the ones that would best explain how having a role model works and maybe even fangirling. So, I have this very easy way of imitating voices and even moves. And recently, I have been finding Gina Linetti soooo adorable. //Gina is from Brooklyn Nine Nine, a series I am currently SO in love with, to the point that I am cooking a post about Amy and Jake, one of its couples. *Plus to the point that I made a reference about it on my Stylez up there, plus the one in #2//. Gina is so adorable, I want to reenact her into my real life. And I feel like I've been blatantly sarcastic in the past few days (I'm normally sarcastic, but in a more gentle manner if not secretly), just like Gina is. Now, I hope it's just her adorable fashion I would channel.

Phew. It is not easy to have these traits eliminated, but at the very least, I hope to have them managed and controlled.

Authencity is the best form of beauty

With all the perceptions of beauty, talent, intellect, and stuff that make people admirable, I am deeply concerned about people who are being shaken by the "What's-up" and the "What's-cool" stuff that they tend to prefer trendiness over authenticity. Everyone wants to be liked.

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What makes a person beautiful? What makes a person smart? What makes a person talented? What makes a person admirable? If I have every single human in this planet answer these questions, surely, I'd get tons of perceptions and opinions which are totally irrelevant to determining a person's worth. And if in that case, they're all gonna be irrelevant then why should I still ask? Just to prove that there's no such thing as stan...dards!!! a phenomenon I'm so annoyed with. People who know me deeply would understand that I perceive standards as completely destructive lists that tend to summon people to try to become who they are not (if someone could just hear the snappiness of my tone, they would know how this is suffocating for me). My desire is for people to understand their worth apart from other people's judgments.

Authenticity is beautiful. For the record, it is not just a cliche statement people have used to comfort people who are perceived not to have it all, it is true and man... it is just true. I've never seen anyone who is just being his/her true self ugly, no matter who they are or where they coming from. I actually find it brave and beautiful. It makes me appreciate the diversity among humans, and the preciousness of each one. I find it uglier (sorry for the word, but) when people try to be who they're not. It makes me puke, it makes me want to go on life coaching them.

Preach, Skate, preach. Hear ya. But seriously, I know I am imperfect and most times I have this little pot of envy boiling within me towards other people who seem to have it all, but then I look back to how I was crafted and I realize that it is vanity and to futility to try to be like someone else because I am from a completely different makeup, with completely different gifts, social circles, upbringing, and all these that piece our identity. Trying to fit in to the point of conforming is a fruit of wanting to be desired, it is ego at work.

It is not sheer incompetence that people copy other people and plagiarize other people's crafts, it is from a high level of insecurity that people try to come up with the same stuff other people already came up with. It is a declaration that they don't know who they are or what they can do, they just end up going through the same thing other people have already done--thinking they would be liked better using other people's intellect under their names.

It is not merely jealousy that people try to beautify themselves the way the society thinks people should be beautiful, it is a mixture of the lack of knowledge about one's personal identity and the lack of confidence on who they really are. Things which if I try to tie up, I would not get to the end of.

Getting admiration and affection from someone is a great thing. It is among our many human needs. But we don't need everyone's approval to fill in that need. What is the difference of getting the greater mass's approval from getting only a handful's, but whose thoughts for the authentic you are authentic feelings--which most likely will last? Big. Sure, it's fun to get all the other people notice and praise you, but at the end of the day, you're replaceable with all the other clones that the society's standards produced. Compare it to being liked by very few people whose affections are deeper and truer, this is definitely priceless. It's the fact of being loved and being found with a worth when you least expect it, when you're in your rawest.

They say there's no new thing under the sun, and how's that? I'm not saying you try to come up with something new. Originality doesn't equate to authenticity. Authenticity is being who you truly are. And there might be others who are like you, and it doesn't mean that you're imitating them just because you ended up with the same interests and style. I'm just saying for you to live according to who you really are. And it's beautiful if we all just stop caring (because sadly, some people will continue judging), but practice the beauty and fearfulness of our inner to outer selves.

I hope all the women in the world would just be confident in their own skin. Because we are all beautiful, we are all loved, and we have a great capacity to love. Also sending this to the guys out there, you are all beautiful and lovely.

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What Am I Doing Today Post

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Good day!
Ain't it "Hooray-day" because it's Saturday?

I know I should be making the most out of my days off, but today I've been slumping on my bed, watching TV series. Yay. Mostly sitcom. The Big Bang Theory, Brooklyn 99, and can't wait to get started with my other ones stalled. And though this wasn't what I planned (look! I haven't even grabbed my breakfast yet, and haven't even bathed yet), as usual I feel frozen. My big Saturday plan is to get to my laundry, but seems like it's gonna have to wait (and I know it shouldn't because if I'm planning to stay in my dorm for the weekend, I'll have nothing to wear by... later (after I took a bath)). And so, I told myself that I should get-a-moving because I don't wanna ruin the rest of my day by doing absolovelylutely nothing.

And as part of getting started, I am writing this post--which I also have been stalling doing for the last 48 hours or so. Most often, I don't write at the middle of the day, I like doing it early in the morning or late in the evening. But because I have had it postponed until now, here am I. Almost to 11 in the morning, been TV series-ing the morning along, with laundry waiting, with books calling, with other TV series all lined up. I honestly don't know which one to get to first, but seems like I'm gonna have to respond to my tummy first. Yay. Then to the laundry. Then to all the other hobby stuff.

But before them, I'm gonna queue some posts for the later days because that's how I roll. Just kidding, I have quite some ideas I wanna share with the few passersby, and I don't wanna forget about them.

I don't know why I'm doing this post even, it's not me to overshare my usual day activities (and since very few read them, I think those few might be interested... or not). No, I'm doing it because I just want to write it. I feel like doing so, and as far as it may be from my comprehension as to why... okay, gotta start with what I said I'd get started with.

2 27 16

Two days to the third of the sixteenth
Way beyond my twenty-first
Almost to the twenty-second

= Wondering why it's all circles
   With me looping all over the same
    Tiring antics of life

= Concluding that ties are the cause
   Of the most exhausting emotions
   In living this existence

= Escaping what's in front of me
   Thinking that I could do better
   Have I been granted wings
   (With the ability to direct the
   way the air blows)

= Breathing in gaps and in depths
  Thrusting my diaphragm for air
   Because I am falling short of it

= Wishing that everything is reversible
   Or convertible at the very best
   That things could be more acceptable