naiveté, idealism or optimism?

Romanticizing - they just make the event, thing or person more memorable, more pleasing to reminisce. So you have a view of things based on what you see, her and how you interpret them, only to find out later that you had it all wrong. What you thought was mutual respect and a harmonious working relationship was the furthest from reality you could get.

And so you live your life based on an assumption of reality and so your existence is some kind of hoax then, right?

Romanticizing things can only get you so far, but you'll never really know. What you have are just stylized, idyllic notions. Best for what it really is to come from the horse's mouth.

But then again, nothing is straightforward. We all cower behind the secret glances with hidden meanings, words left unsaid. So many thoughts... but without the right timing to voice, or even at the very least, express them.

So you let yourself be caught up in this game, this web, with no known beginning, and most times, without a foreseeable end (except the one your imagination concocts). And you participate, and you hope, and you get disappointed, and you share your woes, ask for insight, feel better, and get entangled again, and expect and so on. And you wonder, when will this end, is it a relatively happy ending that is in store for you? Or is it just better to not have entertained any of these thoughts and saved up all that time and energy expended on that line of thinking? You may be clueless, but perhaps, you may be happy...

At least during the small snippets of time when everything's fine and dandy. But you know things aren't always that way. That won't hold for very long.

a wandering mind

How does one hatch an idea?

Sure, you could think about the topic and go through your points systematically, as if you were working with an outline. And then there are the moments when you've ceased to think, but the moment you commence thinking, your brain goes on an entirely new track you didn't consciously steer it to. In fact, there was no preamble for the current direction your thoughts are taking. Then finally, you've exhausted everything in that scenario and stop thinking about it altogether and then continue with what you were doing, say the laundry. And then after a little while, out of nowhere comes another line of reasoning, another set of possibilities completely unrelated to the ones you've thought before. And you can't help but wonder where are all these thoughts coming from.

I've gone through so many I'm just surprised at how I came up with each and everyone. But no matter how many scenarios I come up with, I still won't know unless I hear it straight from the horse's mouth.

There's this one thing I read about one's thoughts wandering. I don't remember the beginning. The second part just says something to the effect that it's where your thoughts go the moment your mind starts wondering. Hmm...

qualcosa che spero dirti

It's different when your head is up in the clouds. You see things differently - ideally is the word for it, I guess, and think that these kinds of things are possible. You get swept up in these whirls of emotion, get high on them. Images and music that appeal to you heighten the feeling. Soon, you think. Oh, how blissful life is!

But there are the days when you're trying to keep your feet on the ground, reverting to your Interrogator persona, the one who thrives on logic, to make sense of the whats and whys and hows. But you're held back since you only have one side of the situation. And you're writing entries like this. And wonder when you'll get a dose of reality.

And come crashing down again.


But still hoping that the thing you've pinned your hopes on
will not let you down.

And you're waiting and waiting... until the emotions wear off...

Or you get tired.

And hope everything comes to pass already.

looking at the same things the other way around

thoughts running through my head on the bus earlier

- how even though i've managed to avoid looking at k for the past week, he still looks at me. is it that he's wanting to incite the same thing we used to do? both times i've noticed when i came back from the 24th floor via the stairs. last sunday i was in a dress. today, well the top button of the gray coverup was open and i'm not sure if any cleavage is being shown. both times i was in heels. and it's not like he tried to avert his gaze soon after. oh no. it was I who did that. and yet earlier, he was crying out how he spent the weekend with his girlfriend in antipolo. what the eff... and so, even though i've resolved to ignore him, or whatever it was, it gets me thinking again... digging up pieces of evidence that suggest something else

- thinking about touch, and what it means. did me allowing e to hold my hand, put his arm around my shoulders, hell, letting him kiss me on the cheek equate to me wanting to do more of that? am i much too forward for having done that for the past two meetups, and both in the confines of the taxi? it's not like it's our first "date" but it did seem like our first after the long hiatus. or is it the anticipation of something else that has me warming up to the idea of touch? hearing him wet his lips - did he think maybe he wanted to take it further? what would I do next time, if ever he did try something? will i indulge him, myself? should i do more when he holds my hand - i.e. squeeze, make more contact possible?

- how will i handle being in a relationship with him? he's not the alpha male type, and i have a tendency to take control of things... will i be dominant? what happens when they have gigs? when he falls sick? i can see myself doing what my friend used to do.

- how before none of these concerns would be taking up a lot of my thinking time, but now, there's not only 1 but 2 characters in there, sometimes 3 or 4... the things that change as you grow older

of dark eyes and Dune nights

Missed my first class this morning, of which I'm not supposed to incur any more absences... well, there's nothing left to do but let it go. I'm good at that, letting things go. For sure, there's something that can be done about it later. So yes, I have to go to the doctor and have him/her make me a medical certificate stating that I was sick, so that, meine Lehrerin will hopefully strike today's absence as excused and thus will not add to the tally. And then I can still go on with my classes without much trouble. Seriously though, she could be more considerate. And we have a total of 12 tardiness to maximize. She's probably unaware of it. So I should tell her about it.

Spanish art from a German postcrosser, mushrooms in Finland and a cathedral in Russia

I've sent acknowledgements to the three postcrossers whose cards I received today (these are the kind of surprises I like waking up to). Right now, I've just been playing Strange Overtones over and over again. It's very beautiful. I love the original version by Brian Eno and David Byrne, but this cover by We Barbarians is still reminiscent of the original, with probably a bit more youthfulness in it. There's the soaring vocals in the original, and I don't know, I just feel the whole song, the whole situation. And then... maybe give it a listen? :)

Playing this song incites in me a pensive mood... I've actually decided to let certain imaginings go. I've been having eye contact with this guy at work for a while now. It all started when he found out I was reading Dune, which turned out to be also his favorite book. He was surprised and somewhat overwhelmed or like he said, excited at that time. He couldn't stop talking about it, even telling me that he had a tattoo of a line from the book and tried to show it to me (I failed to understand it though), and told me that it's worth reading to the end since the Kwisatz Haderach will finally be revealed. I had just started rereading the first book to refresh myself on the minute details, since I was due to start on the fourth book of the hexalogy. But as much as I love reading, I'm not as articulate on what I like about them. I like stories and storytelling. Even in films, I don't care much about the deeper developments in the characters, the twists in the plot, as long as it's well-written, it's got a good flow going and it's not the usual, I'm almost often into them. Same goes with films. So I couldn't comment enough while he was talking.

It's not like we became fast friends after that. I'm not the type that strangers easily approach and talk to, if they were not the talkative kind. So we didn't talk again after that. Well, there weren't any chances to. There was a time shortly after though, I was standing up and I looked up from my screen and saw him looking at me, so I promptly averted my gaze. For some reason, he was in the bay beside us. I'm not sure if that was the only time though. And then suddenly, all I know is that, when he passes through the aisles, I find myself looking up. Initially, maybe he hadn't intended to look. And maybe I'm just drawn to him that I had to see him while he passed by. But I no longer remember a time when I would look up and he wasn't looking straight at me. I always look away first, but not before lingering a bit in each other's gazes. When I'm the one passing through the aisles, I'm usually self-conscious so I try not to look. But the few times that I did, well it's like a habit you can't stop doing. There are times when I know he's passing by, but I consciously don't look to avoid any more incidents like that. But out of the corner of my eye (is my peri vision really that reliable?), I know he's looking at me, like what happened one Sunday.

And so I'm a bit torn as to what to do. I've decided recently however, that I'm gonna stop this. That a guy who's got some sort of interest in anyone would take the reins and do something about it, and not just forever make eye contact with that person, all the while not doing anything about it. Self-esteem issues came up as well. But yeah, I'm not willing to risk anything like what I did the last time. So I was gonna let it go.

At least before yesterday. Haha. Gosh, don't I fixate on things.

I believe it happened twice yesterday. I don't remember what brought about the second one, but I'm sure that's the more intense one of the two. Before that, I was walking along the aisle, coming from the CR I think, and he was also passing that way. Well, he backed up. So I thought, yeah, everything's done with. Then later on, because I was facing the aisle and was sitting near the end, I looked up at a movement and it was him. And I saw that he stopped for a few moments at what he was about to do. And maybe because I was closer to him this time - two steps and I'm right in his face, maybe that's why it affected me more than all those other times.

Now, I'm once again trying to find my way in the dark, after having given up on this endeavor, to see more of those dark eyes, that I know desire to express a lot more than all the things I've heard or seen.

---

For an quick interesting look on Dune, you may want to check out Julia Yu's Goodnight Dune, inspired by a parody on Collegehumor.com's '5 Children's Scifi books' while maintaining the original feel of Margaret Wise Brown's Goodnight Moon.

senti-men(ts)

Cusack's boombox scene in Say Anything kind
of captures the traditional senti Sunday mood

I just got home, and now I'm eating spaghetti and meat sauce. JAM is off the air for a few more hours, so rather than subjecting my ears to noisy pop ditties, I succumbed to listening to songs of yesteryears. Senti Sunday it is.

When I was a kid, Sundays meant the songs of my parents' younger years blasting from the speakers, courtesy of Star FM's Never on Sunday program. Staples were Tennessee Waltz, Sad Movies and that song that goes 'How much is that doggie in the window?' Twenty-something years later, I'm no longer surprised that songs played in programs like MYX Backtrax were by the BSB or Spice Girls. I'm not sure when Till They Take My Heart Away became popular but that song, and others like Take My Breath Away and Crazy for You define this wee-hours-of-the-morning's playlist. Nothing like being by your lonesome accompanied bye these kinds of songs permeating the airwaves, huh?

Incidentally, earlier tonight I found this poem by Alma S. Anonas. I was reading the 2002 Likhaan Book of Poetry and Fiction in between taking calls and somehow found myself going through the poetry section and reading them out loud, something I'm not usually won't to do. It's called Reply and (in the tradition of making song dedications over the radio) this goes out to you who will in the future ignite such curiosity as well.

Reply | Alma S. Anonas

You asked me
Why I kissed you
That scotched
Saturday evening.

Because I was curious.
Because I had drunk three-fourths
Of a bottle of scotch.
Because you asked me with your eyes.

Had I been sober,
Had I been sane,
Your lips
Would never have touched mine.

I kept my eyes closed
To your exquisitely ugly face.
I hadn't gone that far
Into the black yet.
Nothing personal.

I just wanted a period
To answer the question mark
Of what you tasted like.

Now I know.

Earlier last night as well when one of my officemates was talking to me, I somehow came to realize that I'd definitely go for a guy who reads, and not just magazines or the current thriller or fantasy novels. I'd go for someone who reads literature. He'd be extremely sexy in my mind; he'd share to me what lit is about as I have close to nada in understanding the classics, even if I sometimes read them. His thoughts will be of a depth and extent unlike any I have ever encountered. He will explain to me the different themes of different canon in between cuddling or whatnot. He'd quote lines and ignite my imagination while sharing to me his literary world. And it would help if he's got a hot bod and is not a wimp. Oh I am so drooling right now!

Yum!

tales of the vending machine

coffee-scented stamp from Brazil /
photo from https://www.facebook.com/Nescafe

There was a girl who, when she discovered the 14-peso Cafe Mocha by the office's Nescafe Vending Machine, took to it like Bethany Hamilton to surfing or men to big boobs, sugar level at two (maximum is five). She loved to pair it with some discounted Triple Choco Boom from Country Style, available at the office building's ground floor two hours before closing. That was chocolate heaven, and the almost bitter, not-so-sweet Cafe Mocha complemented it well. There would be times when she needed some heat (the office AC was too cold) or some wake-me-up (she hadn't had enough sleep). Times like these, she was headed to the chill lounge at the other side of the office floor to have her brief fill of that delicious, hot, brown liquid. Then she'll be set for the rest of the shift.

There was a time when said girl had no coins with her, unable to foresee that she may need said delicious, hot, brown liquid before her lunch break. The machine was picky with the P20 bills (should be the old edition and then a bit worn), and well, she simply had none on her that time. So she borrowed coins from the teammate sitting beside her. Then when she finally got her money, decided to pay her. Said teammate refused; said she'll just get it when time came that she needed the money. So pocket the money the girl did.

Some days after, she was psyched up to drink a cup of said delicious, hot, brown liquid when teammate piped up, I need my money now. Of course, she had no choice but to fork over those coins - the only coins she had on her to be able to drink drink that brew at her upcoming break. So move the coffee drinking time she did to her lunch break.

Lunch break came and she was finally able to drink said sought-after brew after a trip back to her locker two floors up. While still savoring the rest of her free unpaid time, Kras Nummer drei came in and went straight to said vendo machine, by which she was seated. Said Kras inserted his P20 bill, machine promptly ate it up and coughed it out immediately. He looked to her and asked whether she had change. As it turns out, after buying various stuff for her lunch she did have. It was P1 shy of what he had though, but he said it was okay. So exchange money they did. And he got his brew, thanked her and went on his way back to the floor.

A few moments later, Kras Nummer eins came sauntering in. There were a few people by the vendo, still awaiting their own brew. Girl was looking straight ahead at the glass window to the scene in front of her, though they were only buildings. Kras Nummer eins, in his striped polo and semi-slacks, hadn't recognized her yet as her back was to him, but when he looked at the window as well, made eye contact with her and waved at her reflection; she waved back. No words exchanged. People finally vacated the vendo machine and he inserted his P20 bill, which machine promptly spat back out. It's not recorded who spoke first, but they exchanged comments about the vendo machine's caprice. She mentioned that the new edition bills weren't usually accepted; he said it usually has to be crumpled a bit first, with a bit of boasting in his part. So crumple his bill he did, to no avail. She remembered she still had another bill in her pocket, not the one Kras Nummer drei exchanged with her, and gave it to Kras Nummer eins. He apologized for the crumpled bill, took hers, and successfully had his brew. Flirting she was not, but enjoy the exchange she did, loudly replying to his thanks as he exited the lounge, while others she did not know were still inside the room.

And thus it was that the first vendo machine incident gave rise to this encounter with Kras Nummern eins und drei und sie war sehr glückich. Kras Nummer zwei she hadn't encountered at said vendo before. But she'll be fine with just having more encounters with Nummer eins at said vendo.


Note: originally started/thought about writing this am der 18. Oktober 2012.