Blues

Has my life suddenly become too boring when all of a sudden I can’t find things to blog about? Or have I just been too depressed to find excitement in writing my everyday life experiences no matter how nonsensical they are (just like I always do)? I like to think it’s the latter. I mean, on the surface, a lot of exciting things have surely happened to me in the past week or so. For one, my VCR is back to my fold just in time for the HBO showing of the rad musical Hedwig and the Angry Inch. (The idea may not be exciting to you, but it is to me!) I also got to see two very good movies – Mario O’ Hara’s Babae sa Breakwater (loved it tho I can’t say the same for how Gardo Versoza’s character is written) and Clint Eastwood’s Mystic River (loved it tho I get the feeling the novel’s better). I also got to have a sorta mini-reunion with the Pangako sa ‘Yo Creative team (which almost led to a reunion of sorts to write again for soap). What more, I attended an artsy fartsy birthday party slash poetry reading last night where Yam and I made a fool of ourselves by rapping Andrew Ford Medina while the others were serious about their “rage” poems and songs. He he. :) I mean all these, in my non-depressed state, I would have written in long narcissistic journal entries. But I’m simply not just feeling “it” these days.

Yesterday, I unabashedly bawled out to my former boss again. It was so embarrassing. The first time it happened was when I was still an employee. My turbulent emotions were building up then. There was pressure from work as both soap writer and employee, and there was also the self-pity aspect of having to work 24/7 at the young age of 21 in that a simple reprimand for tardiness caused my tough front to crumble. Yesterday was a different case but more or less the same situation. I don’t wanna disclose everything in detail but my former boss hit a sensitive nerve when she wittingly verbalized all the feelings that I have been hiding from everyone (except my blog readers). It was actually the first time a person re-affirmed what’s really going on within me and for some reason, it just made me cry. I was embarrassed (yes) but it also made me relieved that my tears finally fell. I’m one person who has a jolly/carefree front and it’s difficult to make me cry. What my boss did was a feat and I’m grateful to her for that. Crying is pure catharsis. I love it.

When my boardmate for three years left to transfer to another apartment, it sorta made me reflect again why I’m like this – repressed in expressing happiness and vulnerability. I know it’s petty and childish to blame what you’ve become to what you had experienced when you were younger but I can’t help to think that way. I guess it all goes back to my being aware of the harsh realities of life earlier than everyone when I started living independently (tho financially dependent from my parents) at 12 years old. Living in dormitories and boarding houses hence, I’ve encountered countless cruel people, who toughened my character in the process. I’ve also formed many friendships, which quickly vanished after a sem or so. The abodes are just temporary, see, and whether we admit it or not, physical separation is almost always synonymous to emotional parting as well. I guess this is also the reason why I’m wary to new friendships. It just hurts to hurt.

I’m not bitter, tho. :) I love my life! I know I’m still very blessed! I know, this is just one of the down days. I’m just ranting out. Or maybe, analyzing things. Or maybe this is my way to comfort myself.

Okay, I feel better now. :)