An even longer period of silence

I have always respected people who decide to keep silent even when the world begs them to speak up. I guess it's because I know how it feels like. There have been moments in my life when I was forced to voice my opinions and make decisions when I felt so lost and would've chosen to just shut my trap and not make a choice at all.

It can be viewed as immature and even irresponsible, I know. I cannot deny the fact, though, that sometimes it's better to hold your tongue even when your head is full of thoughts that need sorting out. Perhaps that's it: sometimes, you need to sort them out on your on first before sharing them with anyone. After all, once you've said whatever it is that's running through your mind, it'll be open to interpretation and it'll be very hard to take any of your words back. I made that mistake once. I answered what seems to be very important questions without thinking them through.

I'm still in deep, erm, dirt because of that.

They say the best ideas and most perfect realizations are usually found in complete silence. Sometimes, the only sound that you need to hear is the sound of your mind whirring about, looking for the right solution to your most disturbing problem. I'm taking a page from your book and shutting up. Never mind that we have a lot to discuss. Never mind that I have my own set of questions that I want you to answer. Never mind that I want this over and done with.

Fate has its way of telling you that you have your priorities screwed up. In my case, it presented a new opportunity to make my life as a breadwinner a bit easier. Such a blessing in disguise it was. I was about to self-destruct with all these confusing feelings you've awakened after a relatively long while. So, I am shutting up and focusing on more urgent matters. There are things that are less important, yes, but are much easier to deal with.

I guess dealing with those is my way of getting ready for that time when I need to open up again. Because, yes, I won't hold my peace forever. I will speak again. And, when that happens, you'll be forced to look me in the eye, as I'll be forced to be completely honest with you. You'll stop toying with my feelings, as I yours (though I don't think I ever did do that. Well, at least, not on purpose). We'll answer each other's questions. We'll finally figure out what we have been doing. We'll finally stop haunting each other as if we're each other's own personal ghosts. And I can finally start living again without looking back, hoping that you'll say the words that I want to hear and more. I can finally move on.

For now, I'll just have to endure an even longer period of silence.

Blue and white

They're two ordinary colors, really.

One comes in different shades:
cerulean and cobalt, denim and duke,
maya and majorelle, periwinkle and powder
sapphire and sky and ultramarine.

One with none but its purity
(unless you count ghost white and anti-flash white,
magnolia and old lace, seashell and eggshell,
and ivory and lace).

Two ordinary colors, truly,

Bringing a glimpse of heaven, and the sky, and the sea,
loyalty and purity, and freedom and light,
sincerity and innocence, and faith and spirituality,
and possibility, and inspiration, and perfection.

Bringing a glance of you to me
(together with those happy days and endless nights,
meaningful conversations and unusual anecdotes,
truthful insights and real and true and honest-to-goodness friendship).

Two colors on something named after some fruit,

Just there, on standby...simply there,
simply staring,
simply waiting,
simply wishing.

Just here, in the palm of my hand...actually here
(unlike you who's a thousand miles away,
in your glory and success,
your reality, your truth,
my demise, my pain.)

Two colors I wish I'd see.

To light up my world.
Like a few years ago.
Again.
Again.

Two colors again.

Relapse No. 6

Like a faucet

Turned on

Very similar to the facet of this fact

That needs exploration,

Explanation,

Action.

Did it matter then that it happened

Once upon a time, 

Upon some slithering snakes

Dancing to see who

The real charmer is?

Like a disease

Spreading

Almost the same as a pair of limbs

Accepting and praying

Quickly closing,

Now running.

Does it matter now that a pair ponders

Over bones set into play,

Whilst roaring in delight, disgust

Fighting to see who

The real winner is?

Like a home

Haunted

As her eyes, his touch, their faces

Look confused,

Bruised,

Used.

Will it matter that they have set

The rules, perchance to break,

The stage where a poor soul stands

Waiting to see who

The real man is?

***

Tango (Part 2)

I've fallen for your eyes but they don't know me yet 
And the feeling I forget I'm in love now. 

- Kiss Me, Ed Sheeran

I was afraid and excited and...pretty happy. I knew that that dance would be one hell of a dance the moment you placed your hand on mine.

The first step was perfect -- done at the same time and on the same beat. We spun and waltzed across the dance floor. It was exactly what a tango's supposed to be. It was precise. Passionate. Hot. My eyes have betrayed me: all I can see were glimpses of this and that whizzing past me. Not that I cared that much. My other senses were so...heightened, it was scary. It's as if I can hear a million things at the same time, can feel a million things at the same time. I was having a frighteningly great time.

I couldn't have asked for a better dance partner, too. I can't really describe it, you know? It's like it has this binding magic of its own. You have your own brand of magic. I remember everything in great precision and in a blur, too, if that's even possible. At that time, it didn't matter to me anymore if I were still dancing it right, if I were still moving my feet the way I would've if we were back in the rehearsal studio. Yet you were there to remind me to breathe when I felt like I was about to lose my sanity, to give instructions when I felt like going over the edge, to pull me back when I felt like ignoring the rules of this intricate dance. But I still let the music take over. I let myself loose and danced like I have never danced before. I tried to put as much heart and soul in it without disfiguring the steps, without disregarding the rules.

The dance was almost over when you did something totally unexpected. You improvised. You started going to the left when every book says stay right. After pulling and pulling and pulling me back, you brushed aside the conventional dance patterns, changed our pace and just started really dancing. With me.

Suddenly, it wasn't just about dancing the tango just for the heck of it. It was dancing the tango as if my life depended on it. It was, ultimately, dancing the tango with you.

Tango (Part 1)

You don't have to put on that red light...You don't care if it's wrong or if it is right

- El Tango de Roxanne, Moulin Rouge!

I wanted to dance. I felt it in my bones.

Music was playing. It was loud. But beautiful loud, you know? It made me feel so alive. Each note, each beat, every word. I have never felt like this before. It was something very familiar but something very new. How is that even possible, I wondered. But reason was reduced to nothing but a blur when I heard that old song from not so long ago. Next thing I knew, I was singing. I was humming and I wanted to dance. I was singing and I wanted to tango.

Let me tell you, I really, really wanted to dance. But, for some weird reason, I kept on declining offers. It didn't feel right. No, not with this song. If they have played any other song, I would've gladly danced with them. But not this one. Not this one.

Then, I saw you.

I felt it in a rush. I knew I just had to dance with you. You looked at me from across the dance floor but those glances you threw my way were not enough for me to know for certain if you thought of me competent enough to tango with you. So, I brushed the thought aside and tried to stop myself from raising my hands and dancing to those taunting violin strings.

My song ended and another one began. Brushing aside the disappointment was harder than I thought. I started walking away...

...when you grabbed me by the hand.

And the dance began.

On Making Decisions

I read somewhere that we make about "217 food-related decisions a day". I think we get more or less half of them wrong. That's why we gain (or lose) weight without us knowing. Most girls are slaves to that flat, board-like object lying on the floor. One itsy bitsy line (on that weighing scale, that is) defines our utmost triumph and joy (followed by days of high self-confidence and that liberating "I'm-sexy-and-I-know-it" vibe) or pure anguish and frustration (followed by another week of very limiting diets and really painful physical activities).

It's amazing how, most of the time, crossing one itsy bitsy line defines the course of action we undertake in our lives. It can make us. It can break us. It most definitely affects us. And, most of the time, there is no turning back. The numbers you see when you step on the weighing scale become insignificant when you think of how there are so many other things that you cannot lose (or gain back) once you've crossed that line.

(And they say losing or gaining weight is one of the hardest things a girl encounters in her life. Ha! Yeah, right.)

So what must a girl to do when she is perched on that fence, sitting and thinking of the right thing to do? Must she heed her instinct or carefully think things through? Must she go for the practical choice or the popular decision? Must she be selfish or think of the feelings of the people around her?

Must she listen to her mind's reason? Must she listen to her heart's desire?

Based on experience, I'd like to say that it doesn't really matter. What matters most is that you are ready to face the consequences of that choice. Remember that it is always a fifty-fifty thing: you are never sure if you've done the right thing unless it has been shoved up in your face and you can see it as clear as day. So anticipate that uplifting feeling of pride and satisfaction in what you have done. However, be ready to accept the crushing agony of defeat and shame when you realize that you have gone down the wrong road and that you are lost.

And, when you do get lost, remember the reason why you chose that road anyway. Try to recall all the pros and cons you have listed down (or the lack thereof) that led you to that direction. Remind yourself. Make sure you're sure. No, not of the fact that you made the right decision (because there is no way of knowing, like what I have mentioned earlier) but of the reasons behind that particular choice. See, there is nothing worse than doubting yourself. Second-guessing never helped and never will.

We make decisions every day. Some major ones, some minor ones. Like the ripples when a pebble is thrown in the middle of a lake, remember that it is the effects of our choices -- even the small ones -- that define us. Sometimes, it takes just one teeny tiny line to determine who we are. While we may not always know where to stand, may we always have the courage to stand...and to stand tall.

Life's lemons

They say when life gives you lemons, make lemonade.

But what if you're out of sugar and ice? Sometimes, you can't help but feel pessimistic when things are out of your control and, as much as you'd like to remain hopeful that things will be better soon, you lose that cool energy to keep going and that sweet inspiration to get things right again. When this happens, what should you do? Should you still make that lemonade, knowing that it'll taste as bad and sour as the fruit it came from?

Today, I realized that life does not necessarily become better or worse just because a new year has arrived.  You will still be haunted by your past and you cannot start anew unless you have tied up all your loose ends. But is there even a chance in this lifetime for you to drive your demons out of your life? Can you really completely forgive yourself for the pain you have brought not only in your life but also in the lives of the people you care about? Or is finding peace in yourself found only in eternal repose? Are we destined to just admit defeat and feel content with the meager happiness we receive from petty achievements and fleeting memories and bear the mediocrity and/or pain from all the other moments in between?

They say when life gives you lemons, make lemonade. But what if you want a glass of apple juice instead? Do we really have to accept all of life's lemons and not ask, wish, hope, pray, beg for something else? Is it wrong to ask for something totally different, just for a change, just for once?


***
Okay, this is such an emo whine-y post. The next lemon life throws me is definitely ending up with tequila. LOL. Happy new year!