December 30, 2017

Here we are



At 1:58am as I was going over all the crazy things that happened this year - the cruelness and the magic, how they perfectly blended into one insane year, I find it impossible to write everything in detail, all I can ever do is recall feelings, and those things are difficult to impart. I will try.

On finding Love

I started this year as a mad Maria Clara, writing for a boy that doesn’t even count anymore, or so I thought. I’m giving him all the kindness I could’ve given him at the start of this year. But then again, I don’t regret anything. Maybe, he's not worth it or the other way around. Nonetheless, whatever he felt, I just wished I could’ve told him that he matter. When I write about people they really matter, whatever the context they're may be in.

I brought that up because, people told me that this was a good year to find love. I was excited enough to prove it, though how badly desperate it sounded. Whenever I tell my closest friends about my sexuality, the most common thing they say to me is to get a boyfriend to test it. As if, getting into a relationship is an answer and as if, I still don't know what my preference is. 

I believe in the genuineness of love so much, that it bothers me how could people easily fall prey to the surfaces. Where is substance and rawness? The love that is with conversations, the randomness of the things you do out of love even without noticing it. You see, I'm not a fan of formality. I want connection more than the cheese. When they told me about getting love (or shall we say, getting into a romantic relationship) this year, I've always looked for it in the obvious places. But, love this year took a different form, it wasn't through a romantic relationship. It was in my grit, my dreams, and new friendships I never knew will exist. I've felt it because pain didn't matter. 

May 24, 2017

Don't forget this girl


There's a perfect meme for every heartbreaks, a hugot perhaps, or a button poetry. Things millennials, like me, would divulge in. Romanticizing stuff, the korean dramas way, or  by lang leav's language. We could always pretend to relate to the songs of Quest's Walang Hanggan or Ang Bandang Shirley's Siberia and Maginhawa. As if. As if, the pain sprouted from an indie film. We will call it:"Sana ganito ang nangyari."

Then here's this girl, seeing all those things revolving around her. People moving at a fast-paced and she was in slow-mo.  A mere spectator of the feels she's not familiar of, but she chose to feel it, anyway. How do you put a meme to someone like her?

When her only heartbreak was not graduating on time, and the uncertainties that goes with it. Or, the fact that she's scared of being forgotten by the same people who believed in her. Or, that she couldn't fit with anybody at all. Everyone is moving forward - how can she? We all needed a meme, somehow. Touching the wound without getting hurt - to an unlabeled heartbreak.

I was hoping there was a certain song for how she feels. An indie film about the stories of the roads she didn't take, or the one she is traversing. I hope there is an ode to her longing - the best friends who went ahead of her. A Lang Leav prose called: "The could've beens." I wish there is a fight for oblivion; something that she so feared.

Don't forget her. Even when the spaces between you and her are getting wider. Even when she couldn't hold your hands anymore. (Even when she withdraws from the powerpuff girls). Even when she decides to keep quiet. Even when the sparks are no longer there.

Don't forget this girl. Even when you are walking at a fast-paced and she is still a spectator. When you meet her at the road, tell her not to give up. I'm afraid, it has become her habit. Tell her, you hope to see her as you wait at the end of the road. That is what she needs to hear.

Nothing terrifies her more, than losing the people she love the most.

Someday, she will finally move forward. You must not forget this girl. As if, she was from your favorite indie film. Relevant and unforgettable.

That girl, in perfect timing, will write her own story. In slow-mo. In slow-mo.

It's still painful to write this, without getting scared of uncertainties and broken promises. But, someone must.

I will call it: "Nangyari na." Then, there'd be a perfect meme for her own heartbreak, a hugot perhaps, or a button poetry.



Don't forget this girl. (Albeit, the "three letters" are long overdue)



Love, Patricia


P.S. She remembers