theescapewriter

Archive for the ‘Thoughts’ Category

To be honest, these past few weeks have been a total blur to me. It has been uneventful. My team threw the whole game away. And I have been spending my time in the four corners that I would like to call my room.

Between catching a bug named throat infection and watching NBA finals, I could just say that I just lived a pretty boring life. Or so I thought.

Lately, I’ve been trying to talk to people I miss, to people I love. I couldn’t help but think about what would have been myself if I didn’t leave the Philippines. Would I still be socially awkward as I was before? Would I be smaller than I am now? Would I even be a UP Eng’g graduate?

It’s so funny how I miss these people who in the past two years, I have been refraining to contact just because I don’t want to envy all the times they’ve spent with each other. Boy, was I glad that I finally had the courage to talk to them via social media.

I can’t believe that I’ve been here in Canada for over two years now. I have changed a lot, I guess. Gone was the girl who would always depend on her parents and on her peers. Welcome to the new me, a person who is willing to conquer any obstacle she could find herself in.

But despite that, I still feel that I am not complete.

I missed a lot. I missed the official break-up of one of my best friends. I know I would’ve handled it better if Kers and Ian had told me they were broken up before I left for Canada. I missed the all the plays my other best friend, Justine,  handled. And not only that, I would’ve loved to see how her love for Lori grew. I missed my goddaughter’s birthdays. I know Ara would’ve been happier if I was present. I miss my cousins back home. I guess it’s really true that cousins are both best friends and family. I miss Mayet, Pat, and Ysan. I am glad that they never fail to include me in all the things they are up to even if we haven’t really spent too much time together since 2008 when we went to different universities. I also miss my grandma whose smile never failed to remind me that once in her life, she became the light of my mother’s home. I also miss Julienne and Arvin, whom I have constantly been talking to in the past two years.

But then I realize that with all of the people I missed, I also met people who I could trust and love more than life. I met my whole family once again. For the first time in my life, I have learned how to take care of my own family. I could never imagine how Nanay and Tatay managed to send me to a private grade school and high school and a prestigious university if we hadn’t migrated to Canada. It finally is very nice to hear my brother say I’m one of those people he could always count on even if I choose to pick on him all the time. I met Pam and Maria, those two people who I know I will always be friends with. Without them, Canadian life would not be complete. And of course, I met ate Faye, Renee and Angie. I would always be thankful for all the things they make me experience here.

Seeing as summer just started, I could officially say that I would be starting to miss these people I met here in Canada. University life will be starting soon and I am sure I will not see them as often.

I just hope I could still remain in constant contact with all of them.

 

_____________________

SEGUE:

Visit my aunt’s site: http://www.mybarecupboard.com for delicious treats and savory meals! ❤

April 30, 2013 – 11:38 pm (MOSTLY INCOHERENT BUT I HAD TO WRITE ELSE I’LL GO CRAZY. HAHA)

As I was browsing through random pages on the Internet, one thought came to mind.

“Why do we live?”

Do we live just to die in the end? Or is it more than that?

Have you ever really wondered what will become of our selves several decades from now? As for me, I would probably find someone to call my own family if I won’t become an old maid with a dozen cats to lull me to sleep every night. Or I could be more than that.

I have done many things in the past. I don’t even remember most of them. I just remember being this curly-haired girl in her prep class who cried because she didn’t know who to play with in recess. I was this sickly girl in fourth grade who had her mom visit her at school during lunch time because she needed her medicine to be injected through the nose. I was a pimply sixth grade without stage parents who would do anything to guarantee their children’s position in the honor roll. I was just a shy student who got in a mixed students section in her first year high school. I’m pretty sure I have done more than that. 

Oh, yes, I have done more than that.

I met my best friend for fifteen years in first grade. I was judged in fifth grade for certain things I didn’t even know I was doing but I got through that. I won in the first poem I have written publicly in sixth grade because my homeroom teacher rooted for the underdog. I gained a lot of friends who can count on me and who I could count on in high school. I went to the (best) university in the Philippines even if I wasn’t one of the popular smart kids who teachers picked to enter academic contests in secondary school. I entered an organization (UP ERG) which has taught me to become a thinker and a doer. And yes, I have been doing more than that. 

I went to Canada (with my family), totally oblivious to everything that is different, and tweaked the composition of what was me. I have gone a long way from the past me who would cower in front of a crowd, from the past me who would be afraid to stand up for what is right, and from the past me who would choose to just be a wallflower. Right now, I try in my best abilities to be seen in a crowd of looming giants. I speak my mind regarding matters that are of concern to me. I have chosen to be someone who is heard and who is followed by her peers because she is making a difference. I have gone a long way.

And then I realize, I was already more than that. 

I am quite certain that life has the means to its end but will that ever be a risk in living life? Why we ever live in the first place has nothing to do with death. Death is a physical end. Life doesn’t end there. We are not the same person everyday. We mature to become better (or worse) versions of yesterday. May we be better or worse today does not dictate what we will be in the morrow.

People don’t live just to die.

Then, why do we live?

People live to experience what this world has to offer. We live to enjoy happiness and to bear the agony of suffering. We live to try to complete this part of us that will not be complete once we cross over in the afterlife.

Is that really why we live? Maybe. But one thing is for sure.

We live because we are life itself.

Dear rude customer,

Yes, it is right for you to tell us that we didn’t understand what you

were saying. We may have heard something else.

But please understand that the person who is serving you might be new at his/her job. If another cashier goes forward and asks you how you take your drink, don’t be smart with him/her and say that you already said it to the other one. That other cashier who just went all his/her way to help you is basically just doing you a favor. He/she just wants to make your life and the new crew’s shift easier. You do not tell them that they do not know how to do their job. They work there, not you. You have no right to call a person (especially the one who is helping you) a dumbass because you’re just making yourself look like one.  To get respect from others, you need to have respect for others.

And next time, please make sure that before you create such a fit, you have enough money to pay for what you have ordered.

Thank you.

___

I was in such a bad mood my whole shift at work. I felt so bad for the new crew who served the lady.

My mind was a disoriented mess and I was in a rush to finish all the things I have to do at work. Banging tills seemed to be the perfect way to release my anger. LOL 

But when I took your order, you (who I just know by face) asked me very sincerely if I was okay. I felt then and there that some people actually care. 

 

Someday,

When all else fails

And I get nothing

But you,

Just give me

A lifetime of things to do.

Tonight I write of nonsensical matters that may be of importance to me. I write about sleep and how it is supposed to be utilized at this very hour. I write about the days I would sleep in the wee hours of a new day because of too much thinking. I write about those made-up encounters I have of you in my daydreams. I write about weakness, the sadness of not being able to do anything to help. I write about how missing Sunday sermons is a step closer into damnation. I write about regretting what had transpired in that one drunken September night. I write about my brother who just decided to sleep on his bed at the other side of the room and how he always manages to goad me in telling him stories about how my day went or how my friends’ days went. I write about my aching legs–of how sore they are at this very moment (the side leg lifts are finally paying off!) I write about university applications and how I have been stressing myself for the past few months because of it. I write about fear of not being able to accomplish anything for any person who may be of great inspiration to me. I write about my father who still loves me even if I raise my voice while talking to him most of the time. (I am not proud of that. And I am gravely sorry.) I write about the light of my life, my nanay, and how she manages to do her crazy dances even if she struggles to make all ends meet. I write about how angry I am at myself for not doing what I am supposed to be doing on my spare time (e.g. looking for scholarships and zumba!) I write about how bad beers taste and how my heart palpitates when I drink coffee. I write about crunches, squats, lunges, stretches, and hoping that writing just the names of the said exercises could magically burn the same amount of calories as actually doing them. I write about how unfair life can become when you’ve wasted days of being absolutely the opposite of what you truly are. I write about how surprise birthday parties bring a torrent of tears down your cheeks and make everyone invited in the event realize how people actually care about you. I write about wishes granted on St. Patrick’s Day (I guess luck’s on your side today, my darling.) I write about shitty ball game seats and the not-so-anticipated no-booze night in my second Raptors game next Friday. I write about my Ryerson acceptance and  how I can’t wait to start school on the fall season.

Lastly….

Tonight, I write about myself and how I am content with the words my brain and my fingers had just weaved together. (Even if my heart agrees to disagree.)

There is still fire left in me, after all. 

Be that as it may, I promise to be able to write at least one poem per month starting the month after this month.

  • I just recently started writing a short-story-turned-novel. But gah, I don’t really know how to express all my (brilliant, yes, brilliant) ideas into words. :(( I’d probably just keep this project private for now.
  • ANDDDDD, I currently finished reading Warm Bodies. (I LOVED IT MORE THAN THE MOVIE!!) It inspired me to write in a man’s POV. But I have been pulling my hair out night after night. I always end up really sad though. 😦 It’s exhausting to think of the perfect words to say when you know that the perfect words aren’t even the right ones. I always end up backspace-ing the paragraphs I try to write every night.
  • I’m reading The Fault In Our Stars now. I am sure it’ll be a very good read. I’m hoping it’ll motivate me to write.

I just hope I could still do what I do best though. Writing things from the heart. 

It’ll be enough. For now.

Just tired.

Maybe because life is just one big routine. Wake up. Exercise a little. Leave for work. Work. Leave work. Come home. Sleep.

Maybe because every single day is just one set of scripted “may I help yous” to those people who don’t (most of the time) even appreciate your kindness.

Maybe because finishing something may mean bouts of withdrawal which could lead to moments of despair.

Maybe because seeing familiar faces hinder you from meeting new people who might, most likely, change your life.

Maybe because smiling isn’t what it is all about anymore. Could you imagine being paid to just smile and act pretty in front of customers who look at you as if you are beneath them when you don’t hear any word they said because they were whispering their orders to the empty air? Smiling, definitely, has just lost its purpose to make people feel good about themselves.

Or maybe… just because.

_ _ _

Link: http://www.cp24.com/news/arrest-made-in-subway-station-stabbing-1.1164834

Someone stabbed somebody at Dundas West Station yesterday. I didn’t even know there were lots of police officers (and the media) just outside my workplace until customers asked me about what had happened. I didn’t know anything until my managers informed us.

Will it all boil down to this? 

There lies a person, bleeding from multiple stabs, just two flights of stairs away. The man was taken to the hospital. The police came to investigate. The media came to cover the incident.

Everything lasted while we were taking customers orders, putting on fake smiles, and bidding them goodbye. And still, no one (from work) knew until other people started asking.

Are we really that caught up in that little world we put ourselves into? Maybe. Maybe not. 

February 17, 2013

Yesterday marked the second year I have been living in Canada. When I woke up, I was expecting my family to remember but apparently, they didn’t. I was sad but I didn’t remind them about it.

Yesterday made me remember everything that I’ve been missing these past two years. And with everything, I mean those people who really mattered to me in the years. Or so I thought.

Yesterday made me thankful that I am where I stand now. I have people who love me despite my weirdness.

Yesterday made me happy that my family (even if they forgot how important this day is to us) has grown stronger and closer to each other. And because of that I know that we will continue to conquer all the challenges that we may face in the future.

Yesterday marked the day I realized how important it is to have people care for you and vice versa.

I guess we’ve been so busy but somehow, people always manage find time for the ones they deem important. I have been wanting to say these words to three people but it’s getting more and more impossible with our clashing time zones and different schedules. So here it goes…

  • Reading all of the online messages we have exchanged in the past two years made me realize that you will always be in my life no matter what happens. I know that I disappointed you when I didn’t even bother to show up when you needed me the most. I am sorry. I never wanted to be selfish but at that time, I was scared (too scared) to see what have you have brought into being. To add more pain to the one I already caused, I just left without saying goodbye. I am very sorry. I should have known that you, of all people, are the closest thing I have to a soulmate. Parting brought such a sweet sorrow that sometimes I just want to come back and make up for the things I have done wrong. Believe me when I say that your home will be the first home we will stay in when we go back in the Philippines. And don’t forget that I miss and love you (forever and always), soulsister.
  • Sometimes I wonder if you have changed a lot because it seems like every time we talk, you sound more experienced than before. It is true that with time comes experience but I seem to have frozen the times when I used to call you and ask if you could stay with me. You have always been there for me and I will forever be grateful for that. Now, I can’t help but hear the tiredness that is masked by your smiling face as I talk to you. You have never sounded that way before. I guess pain can age you in ways you could not imagine. Nevertheless, know that I will always be a message away if you need someone to talk to. I will always be your trustworthy confidant. I remember the time when you said I never fail to say things that sadden you. I’ve felt guilty since. I promise you, this time, I’ll make you shed tears of joy or even shed none at all. I miss you, child.
  • What has made me forlorn these past weeks is the fact that we haven’t talked in what seemed like so many ages ago. I specifically remembered that it was you who said that reconnecting with old friends is one of your must-dos this year but I’m seeing none of that. I know that you have endless lists of responsibilities to finish until the semester ends but it never hurts to leave a “what’s up?” message on my inbox. You have been a constant part of my life back in Luzon [and I to yours] and I am, at the moment, morose that I will never a constant part of yours any time soon. You have done a lot for yourself and I am very proud of you but sometimes, I couldn’t bring myself to say that to you because I know, deep in my heart, that it won’t merit as much. I miss you, really miss you and I hope that we could be as gullible as we were before, love.

I know that some statements won’t make sense to some but it means the world to me. I really do miss you, best friends.

—-

On a side note…(in the Bittersweet jewelry store)

“Don’t force yourself to get in touch with a person who doesn’t want to get in touch with you. It’s not worth it,” a friend told me yesterday. I am vainly trying to.

After all, I can’t always make the first move, right? 🙂