Crap. Yeah. Love, actually. Crap about love. Unfortunately.
I need to finish 1,000 words and yet I'm still 700 words short, and on my third draft already. Crap. Scrapped the first two. Hm wanna see it? You can comment.
I once knew of a love so true that I almost wanted to die when it was over. And then you begin to question, once you have distanced yourself from the hurt and the pain, if indeed you were in love in the first place. Yes, sometimes realizations come in the form of denials.
Like today. Here, now. I am denying that I am in love. And why am I doing that? Maybe it’s a natural progression of things
In my universe, three things are celebrated here in the Philippines during February: UP Diliman week (and the yearly fair), National Arts Month, and of course Valentine’s Day. Yes, I always celebrate the first two, especially since I am always in the vicinity of the Diliman campus (my alma mater) where I teach, and I am professionally and personally immersed in the arts scene here in Metro Manila.
But Valentine’s Day? Well, let me think about that one. At least for this year.
Blech. Both a major major fail. At least for me. Yeah, I am my own worst critic. Bear with me.
Man, it's hard to be cynical about this thing called love and yet write about this thing called love in a positive way. Hm...
Well, maybe I'm just cynical about it lately since I never could quite get it right, or couldn't quite decipher why, is more appropriate. Yes, decipher, decipher why I tend to fall in love with women who eventually break my heart. But I guess it's inevitable, eh? To have your heart broken, at some point. But see, I've been in this love business for like 13 years now, and yet there seems to be no clear-cut formula as to how to run this damn thing. Like a gadget that won't function well because you lost the fucking operating manual or something.
I dunno. Maybe I'm just rambling. I hope this helps me finish my article later! Wah!
But yeah, I suppose the reinvention of desire project continues for me. I think this is my own personal antidote for self-preservation after being burned by love several times, one too many. A good friend of mine, my superfriend M, actually reminded me about something couple of days ago. She told me that she hopes no one would end up crying in this reinvention thing I'm doing. Well, I hope so. The last thing I ever want to do is hurt a beautiful soul, much more make her cry. And so far, I could honestly say that with this reinvention project, I am having the time of my life. Truly. And of course, *I* don't want to cry! Unnecessarily, that is.
But sometimes, people tend to pull me back to the reality of their life checklists. Like making me choose among their choices, or making me answer questions I don't want to face actually, like
a) is she in love with you?
b) are you in love with her?
c) are you officially together?
d) what's the point of being with someone if you're not officially together?
e) are you none of the above?
f) are you all of the above?
WTF? Not everything is quantifiable that way, dudes. Sometimes you just have to feel.
But yes, I get their point, and I admire their perseverance in looking over my shoulders and making sure I'm not making a huge fool of myself, and I also love the way they care about me, period. I guess that's the bottomline of all things: love and care.
Well, I've always told them that with this thing called love, I have always been willing to gamble myself some more. I mean geez, would you look at my past and tell me if I've done enough gambling? I could be fucking Las Vegas personified by now, you know. But maybe this time, if I do gamble again, it will be more careful. But still, aaah that's an oxymoron, you moron. There's no such thing as a "safe gamble." Haller. What the fuck am I inhaling?
Oh well, don't mind me. I'm having a conversation with myself. And we're fighting. Wait lang.
But I guess no matter how much I reinvent some structures of desire, this thing called love will always remain embedded in the framework somehow. Not that I'm complaining about it, but perhaps love is essential somewhere in that lattice of attraction-desire-passion. Maybe it's the hidden glue linking some points of that lattice. Maybe it's inside, flowing within the sturdy structures that intersect in that lattice, like, um, bone marrow? Maybe. Hm wow all of a sudden, I want to eat bulalo. But I digress...
I guess I'm just hesitant to ride this lurv bandwagon again since I know that it will perfectly fuck up whatever reinvention I have been doing for myself these past few months. That's because sometimes, this lurv thang comes with its own set of rules and regulations, and I am just wary that I might fall back into old modes, old set-ups that I have resented before, or merely failed me. Unless I find revised versions of those rules and regulations, maybe that's the time I could go back into it again, like facing it head-on again, headstrong. Yeah, I am actually willing to do that, if there are viable candidates around, of course. Even if it's just for a short while or a little longer, hey, it's cool. Time doesn't really matter to me anyway; it never did. Still not looking for "something to last forever" blah as I *still* don't believe in the concept of forever. Plus of course, like I always say, life's too short to hesitate, hey. So what the fuck, right? Be careful, be headstrong, and face it head on, but within a different or maybe revised kind of framework, whatever that framework may be. Haven't figured it out just yet, to quote Lola Alanis. But the bottomline is, just.be.fucking.happy.
Yeah, maybe that's it. Not to turn one's back on love, but face it head on. I guess being courageous enough to admit that you love someone is a good step to make, even if you are indeed reinventing your previous structures of desire. Of course the thing that prevents people from being courageous is rejection, and that's very understandable. Or maybe they're afraid to fall flat on their faces when they end up putting their hearts on their sleeves and yet their object of affection doesn't seem to be in on the program. Of course no one wants that, unless one operates on the notion of unrequited-ness or something like that. But uhhh, ain't that unhealthy? But that's just me.
I actually witnessed two people act that way this past week, them being past lovers, but I could sense that whatever they had wasn't so over yet, you know that kind? And one of them acts weirdly defensive and the other one acts so nonchalantly but keeping an eye and ear on the other, secretly. Oh yeah, maybe not so secret, because I detected it somewhat ehehe. Yes I am a snoop sometimes, so sue me.
But yeah, from observing their interaction, one thing's definite: love, especially the destruction of it, could make you build walls as sturdy as the Great Wall of China. But is that necessarily a bad thing? I don't think so. But sometimes, when love comes knocking around again, maybe it's also time to burrow a hole through that wall and maybe, just maybe, try to take a peek first, before you let love in, totally, through a door you will create somewhere in that wall.
I myself have been having my great wall tested. Remnants of the past are cropping up to my dismay. Ranting about it with a friend, I told her why some people can't just leave me the fuck alone. Not that I am still affected by our past interactions, but I am just irritated to be reminded of it, you know what I mean? I mean, what is past is dead, and let the dead bury the dead, as one writer wrote in the past (Og Mandino). And I've long buried her, and gotten over her, and now she sends forwarded text messages. What's up with that?
Oh well, whatever. Good thing I have superfriends to calm me down. Or maybe I just need to change my numbers. See no evil, speak no evil. That works for me. My friend said it's just harmless and I should let it be.
Hay, processing. That's a different thing altogether. Either we have things straightened out, or the universe has its way of straightening things out for us. Hm. Sweep sweep sweep.
Well whatever. The thing is, I still have a lot of things to do in my life and I shouldn't be bothered by small things from the past. Especially since I'm having a spankin' good time in the present. Just fair, right? Right.
And okay, I'm swerving thoughts here, so maybe it's time to close this down. [end of rant]
So okay, back to work!
What more charred memories of your past? Chos!
(at Universal Studios in LA, California /
April2010 photo by my sister Jazz)