Don't Call Me Beautiful

I VEHEMENTLY ABHOR IT. I get irritated, inexplicably rebellious over apparently nothing, and mad at the 'limited vocabulary'.

Of course I might be overacting again, but for some reason, I hate to be called beautiful. Not that many people call me so, but whenever some people somehow went blind and associated the word "beautiful" with me, it would always be a challenge to SINCERELY thank the person for the compliment. Most of the time I doubt if it was really meant, and if it was not just said for the sake of conventions and politeness.That word is too common, at times sounding just fake, and so used frequently that to me it simply lost its meaning (though dictionaries still define it as " having qualities that give great pleasure or satisfaction to see, hear, think about, etc.") For some reason being called it,regardless who did, just pisses me off.

Jeez, am I not insecure. I hope I am the only woman who felt this way about being called 'beautiful'. Even to me it's obvious that I do lack confidence in myself. I am too paranoid. I compensate sometimes through arrogance and bullying. But I just felt this way. Sometimes I know I come across too strong, but in my subconscious I've been aware that I appear more confident than I actually feel.


What makes my heart flutter, though, is being called "lovely", and not many people have used that adjective in describing me. "Lovely" in itself has a special ring to it,but then again that is just my impression.

Maybe when I overcome my insecurity and realize I could be sometimes beautiful, hearing "beautiful" wouldn't bother me much. Or maybe it's because no one has called me beautiful and made me FEEL beautiful.But what I have to concern myself with (and I owe myself this) is to BELIEVE that I am. After all, your worth is a matter of perspective. But gosh, I hope until I come into terms with myself on this issue, nobody would call me beautiful...yet.

Jitters

I must admit that there were times I have the maturity level of a third grader, and my irrational thoughts are way too irrational that they consciously embarrass even me, wanting me to either change my face or bite my own head off . But friends of mine recently got married...and inevitably, by reasonable stretch of imagination, I thought of my own wedding. A wedding which, truthfully, I am doubting if would ever take place at all, if the availability of potential grooms were any indication. But let us not dwell on the rapidly decreasing population of straight men in the Philippines, more specifically of straight men who by my standards are not colossal jackasses. Ha!


The thing is, and I have not told many people about this, weddings scare me. At this point when I think of weddings I am more likely to associate them with wailing flower girls and ring bearers, children knocking into everything (narrowly missing your wedding cake), bad wedding pictures, party crashers, awkward toasts, best friends unearthing your most embarrassing moments, drunken guests, faulty sound system...you get the idea. PETTY, PETTY stuff. I know, I am such a freak to be scared of being embarrassed (embarrassed!) at my own wedding over unimportant things. But it's a relief, at least, that I realize how unreasonable my train of thoughts could get, and that eventually I'd get over my twisted concept of my own wedding turning out to be a compilation of nightmares.


The point of the whole thing is to celebrate a blessed union, making your vows to that 'One and Only' with God as witness, along with the people who love you both and wish you only the best. (If only THAT idea would penetrate deep enough into my brain!) A wedding is a very special and sacred ceremony. It's just that I always pictured my own wedding to be a private affair. Private to me means just me and my groom, exchanging vows in the sunset and walking barefoot on the cool shore at night. I would want only closest friends and selected family members to be in attendance. It's unthinkable not to have with you your loved ones, and no further elaboration on the matter is warranted.


Of course, I don't have details on anything else such as the way napkins should be folded because I want to leave as many things unplanned and unfold on their own.Isn't it a comfort that my wedding probably wouldn't take place soon? I have around 6 years to learn dealing with my anxiety in a socially acceptable manner. Haha I doubt at 28, I would still be worrying over these non-consequential matters the same way I am now. Time heals all wounds and (help me God) eventually reduce irrational, untimely wedding jitters. :)

I Wish I ...

Before anything else, let me say how happy I was that Bes, for the first time in a long time, went online today, we talked for more than five minutes, and she did not ignore me. In fact, she PM'd me first. How unusual, considering how busy she's been sitting on her baby! Haha

(Just kidding, Bes. Miss you.)

Anyways, what prompted the little research that I just finished is our conversation. It went something like this (as best as I could recall since I was brain-dead at the time):

Me: Bes, I hope we can go to Buto't Balat; but it's your treat since I am penniless.
Bes:  YOU, Bes, penniless?!
Me: I wish I were kidding. But life's a bitch, and it has puppies.
Bes: ADIK. (all caps?) "Were", not "was"?
Me: Doesn't matter. It's like saying "If I were a boy...", when you express a wish or something, you use 'were'. I think it's not about the subject's being plural or singular. It's kind of ..subjunctive tense, er, mood of the verb.

At this point, I was alarmed. OMG. I know I am right to use 'were' but I could not EXPLAIN it properly. Like, shame, because I am an English major..so shouldn't I KNOW the reason beyond something so simple?Jeez. When Bes practically vanished (translated: went offline) I promptly did research for my own sake. Mentally, I could not let it go until I make sure I am getting my grammar rules right.

As I learned way back, the English language has three verb moods:  the Indicative, Imperative, and the Subjunctive. The mood of the verb is the manner in which an action is carried out. Indicative mood states a fact, imperative states a command or a question, and subjunctive mood expresses desire, doubt, supposition and a condition contrary to fact.

I used to confuse verb mood with tense and form but as I've found out, tense shows the time an action occurred (think IS, WAS, WILL) while verb forms are BASE, INFINITIVE, PAST SIMPLE, etc. You get the idea.

Going back, a verb in subjunctive mood is most often found in a clause beginning with the word if, as well as clauses following a verb that expresses a doubt, a wish, regret, request, demand, or proposal. In modern English, it is found only in subordinate or dependent clauses.

The subjunctive mood of the verb to be is be in the present tense and were in the past tense, regardless of what the subject is.

That in mind, we conclude that it's correct to say "I wish I WERE joking." The second verb is in a clause following a verb expressing a wish. It also suggests a non-factual or doubtful condition. (So, so cerebral! haha) Sometimes we may use the conditional auxiliary verbs of could, should, or would to express the same sense: I wish I could be joking.

These are verbs typically followed by clauses that take the subjunctive: ask, demand, determine, insist, move, order, pray, prefer, recommend, regret, request, require, suggest, and wish. 

Whew! How enlightening. But I badly need to review those dusty, yellowed grammar books I've been keeping in the closet (or maybe under my bed???). Ha. I wish I knew.

So Paranoid

Call me nuts, or whatever. but whenever my phone rings and an unknown number calls me, I NEVER pick up. I have probably a hundred of missed calls, had my phone been capable of keeping not only 20 numbers on the list. (You'd think I never worked at a call center but we're talking bout my personal CP.)

Here are the reasons why I'd never answer these calls (there are only two, really):

a) If the person on the line knows me, he/she would send a follow-up text message. If there isn't a follow up message, then the person on the other line is a stranger. And I won't talk to one, when I couldn't see him/her!
b) Maybe it's Jigsaw on the other line...and I fear a stranger's voice because there's no way for me to know what to expect. And it gives me rapid heart palpitations.

Same goes for IM's. I always hesitate to accept requests  if I don't know what to expect on the other line. *Sigh*

I am still to find out if such phobia existed. Probably it's just anxiety disorder which could still be remedied. Hopefully...

Airplanes In The Night Sky Are Shooting Stars

Where is he???

Dear Prince Charming,

I’ve been asking myself lately why oh why can’t you just step out from wherever you’re hiding and take me far away into the sunset. For some indigestible reason, all I’ve been attracting are the wrong men! Well, I decide they were the wrong ones because they did not give me those rapid heart palpitations that I am supposed to feel when you are near, and they did not make me smile for no apparent reason. There was only bile rising on my throat and the sinking sensation in the gut upon the realization that, over and over again, it wasn't YOU who came near me.

There’s never been chemistry. I could not hear angels sing in their presence, and looking at them (or their pictures) did not make my heart leap, and I wasn’t at loss for words ever.  They did not make me feel melting like butter, nor they inspired a poem or two.  Nobody could even grab my attention, much less keep it. Nobody has inspired me to sing in the shower.

And I have felt this a thousand times already, but this time I’ll say it: Attention from the ones you decide are wrong for you is probably one of the most vomit-inducing things on earth! Okay, probably I am being overly dramatic again but really, it’s like the ground opening up to swallow you whole and putting an end to your existence. I feel like I had an invisible sign plastered on my forehead that says something like "Normalcy Not Required" or "Opportunistic, Lying, and Manipulating Sex Predators Welcome". Or maybe it says "DOM Only". Being a trouble magnet had never been so unbearable!

Where are you as I write this? I know that I should be patient, and that we’ll meet at the right time, but I just really want to let you know that today, I think of you more intensely than I did the last few days.  I don’t want to doubt your existence, but I can’t wait for you to rescue me from these deranged bestial freaks!  Okay, I should be stable in many aspects first, of course, so I’d deserve you, but you can’t keep a girl from hoping. And though I am a work in progress right now (or under construction), like any other girl, I dream of meeting my Prince Charming, finally to keep the wrong ones at bay, for good.  :(

Still waiting...

I Was Passionate

I have read this poem by Lalla Ded many months ago, while at work:

I was passionate,
filled with longing,
I searched
far and wide.

But the day
that the Truthful One
found me,
I was at home.

This is the first time I  have encountered Lalla Ded. For more information about her you may check out this URL:  http://www.poetseers.org/spiritual_and_devotional_poets/sufi/lalla/

I wished I have shared this sooner. The message of the poem is beautiful beyond words. Probably the poet speaks of her Shiva. But nevertheless it makes me wonder when do I get found by my Truthful One.  Hmmm  :)

Melodramatic

I know I've thought about this a thousand times, but today it has an eerie ring of truth in it: I am such The Queen of Melodramatic Poetry! Haha Been browsing through my tattered Steno notepad and found these poems scrawled almost illegibly, written several weeks ago:

I Love You

Maybe because you listen to the words I say

and hear with your heart,the ones I don't

Or you see past the mask I have donned on

while looking right through my soul

It could be of what I am when I'm with you

And how you make me believe in what I can be

but I love you, and that's all I know.

Catch 22

How can a heart feel heavy
When it's empty and without love
And how can a heart tire
When it's chasing only dreams?
Maybe I'd never know the answer...
If only mine would beat again.

And as if they were not enough, I found myself writing yet another piece:

You Took With You So Much

Well, you told me you're leaving

it was all so sudden and fast

When you walked out the door

You took with you so much

And all I am left with right now

I never knew could spring from love

A bucket of tears,painful maybe's

Shattered dreams and a broken heart

So I looked down on what's left of me

Trying to find among the emptiness

Just a hint of color,a ray of sunshine

even fading music,or a trace of a smile

But you took with you so much.

Jeez. One would think I just broke up with a (nonexistent) boyfriend. I wonder what could I write when I actually did. (Knock on wood!)  But anyways, I Love You is an ironic poem. I am yet to mean it. :)

Status: Single, Explained

How I wish I had a pre-recorded answer to the following questions, which invariably go, as ordered: a) Are you single? b) Why are you still single? c) When was your last relationship?  d) Oh, really, how come you never had a boyfriend? and e)What kind of guy are you looking for?

Seriously, if the number of times I answered them were any indication, a pre-recorded response to each would have saved me a lot of time and energy. Not that my Love Life would really trigger a lot of interest; after all, I am nobody popular. These questions just made it on my FAQ List. So let me set things straight.

I am 22, and yes, at the time of writing I am single, free as a bird, unattached, not committed to anyone. In short, my life is free from endless text messages, phone calls, IM's from a guy I'd cheesily call mine. Ha!

And why is that? My answer is pretty simple: I have yet to meet someone I feel connected to in all aspects (physically, spiritually, emotionally, and intellectually) and who would feel the same way about me. I can't even begin to tell you how that guy's like the proverbial needle in the haystack!

It's a long shot to fall in love just once, and give your heart just once (like my dream), because love is like having your heart out in  the open and making yourself vulnerable to the person that you love. All I'm saying is that when I love, in my heart, in my mind and in my soul, I want it to last forever...and work on it with the person who is worth all the pain and sacrifice that might come with loving. Enough said.

If only answering "N/A" to the third question and having people get the idea, were that easy. This is the part where I tell them of my affiliation to the No Boyfriend Since Birth Society. Disbelief is usually the reaction I get (and am used to), if not shock. Many people tend to sound like singlehood translated to being a pariah and it prompts them to set you up with someone's brother, cousin, colleague, etc. but for me, it's a phase that I want to enjoy and make the most out of.

Unless it's with the guy I am really into (and everything is right with us), I don't see the need to have a boyfriend just for the sake of having one. I am very much influenced by Joshua Harris' I Kissed Dating Goodbye, Lisa Velthouse's Saving My First Kiss and Leslie and Eric Ludy's When God Writes Your Love Story. These are Christian books and when you've read them, you get the gist of what I mean, and no further explanation is necessary.

Mainly I am guided by Joshua' principle: The joy of intimacy is the reward of commitment. I want romance! Who doesn't? But I want it in the context of a functional relationship founded on something solid.  If I doubt I'm mature and responsible enough so I can give the relationship the time and commitment it needs to grow, I better not get into it in the first place. Otherwise I'd just waste my time and emotions.

If I get into a relationship, marriage should be its destination. I'm not saying I'd get married right away, but it has to be a long-term relationship that's eventually leading to marriage because I don't see the point of it all if not. I am thinking of a relationship with a purpose, one guided by values and sound Christian principles. (I know, doesn't sound like the old me.)

Song of Songs says, do not awaken love until it so desires. Plus, I certainly don't want to rush into the whole thing without making sure I am with the person who shares my commitment and justifies my beliefs. It would be a lie to say I do not desire intimacy from the opposite sex like anyone else but since my heart breaks too fast and mends too slowly, I have to be careful whom I give it to. In this case you have to be picky; you just can't have anyone else.

So what if I am 22 and still single? Joshua says singlehood is a blessing and an opportunity to mirror God's love through rendering service to others, and I agree with him. For me, this is also a time to grow and prepare, be the best that I can be and learn to be happy even on my own. I'd rather be single than in an immature relationship that would break my heart.

At this point though I want to become the girl that my kind of guy would like to have, and be proud to call his.The list goes on forever if I tell you about what I am looking for in my future mate, and an easy answer would say as long as he loves me, everything would just fall into place.

But the girl in me envisions a guy a head taller than I am, who is fit enough to give me piggy rides on his back and wouldn't faint easily from long walks on the beach and an afternoon of strolling in the park. I don't need him to look like Prince Charming (since I'm no Disney princess either haha!), as long as he takes care of himself and wears perfume that doesn't smell like freshener thus making my sensitive nose itch.

He is soundly educated and with good moral fiber. He fears God as I do, and shares my values as he justifies my principles in life. He treats everyone with respect, and my family is just charmed with him.

He could talk about literature among many things, and appreciate poetry. This matters to me because I wrote so many poems for him! He laughs easily, kisses and hugs a lot, philosophizes (but not to the point of making me snap), discusses world issues, helps the less fortunate in little ways. He is someone I can talk senseless with, share funny anecdotes with and be a little girl with.

He reads me like a book and accepts me for what I am. He helps me become a better person without trying to change me to fit into his standards. He doesn't mind if I eat too much and too often and if I am always late on appointments and sometimes I get to be a magnet for disasters because of my clumsiness.  He lets me swoon at poems and cry at soap operas and shriek to my heart's content at horror movies. He is full of surprises, as he is patient with me during my monthly period, mood swings and episodes (I have many, but don't let that scare you haha!). He is someone I can punch playfully, 'wrestle' (he's letting me win, of course!) and listen to oldies songs with.

He sees my worth as a person, and just loves me more than I can put in words. He is overwhelmingly many things but to sum it up... with him, the world is just more beautiful, and everyday is something I'd look forward to because it means another day with him.

Okay, maybe this is too much. I don't want to sound too emo, and demanding, like I am looking for Mr. Perfect because he doesn't exist.  It's more of meeting someone, loving that person, and making him The One. I'm realistic that he doesn't perfectly match my requirements, but he's at least close, because I ain't lowering my standards, thank you very much.

I can't wait to meet him, and I think that when people do,without my fictitious pre-recorded answers they'd realize why all along, I waited.

Insomnia

If you were I and you can't sleep, you tend to write a poem about it. And you get literal. You don't admit that you mean it in figurative sense too. *Sigh* Sleep does not heal a broken heart, but it's a refuge. I call this poem "I Long To Be In My Dreams."

I long to be in my dreams

Where there are no heavy days

And long, lonely nights

Where love does not slip through

My grasp each time

In every wakeful, aching moment

I beg to be in my dreams

But even sleep would not come.

Frustrated Pop Star?

In my crazy teenage days I dreamed of being a pop star. That was a long-dissolved ambition, of course. A few years wiser, I am happily dealing with the fact that I can only be a shower singer. I can gamely sing off-key during Karaoke sessions with family and close friends, and laugh it off.

But for how many times now, I had that picture of myself in my mind, that I am singing on the stage. It's more like a lucid dream. And I am performing this song that's known only to my head. (OMG Where do these sonngs come from?) As usual, I know how it is sung, but I couldn't sing to you.

If I were to choose an artist to perform this, though, it has to be Avril Lavigne, in the tradition of "Happy Ending."

Healing Slow

So it's too much of a dream
To be a part of your world
But know I'll be okay soon
And will get over your face

So you're not the one for me
Something I learned the hard way
Yes, I choked on bitter tears
But hey, watch me walk away

I just hate the way I hope
That you'd hold and love me too
It's scary how it still  hurts
Ran in haste, but healing slow

So you're still the world for me
When you don't see me at all
I always found out too late
But be up after this fall

So tried to smile, got to work
Until I thought I'd be fine
But just looking at your eyes
It sends me back to square one

Why oh why do I keep coming up with angsty, broken-hearted songs?!

I Want To Be

It was a sunny July afternoon, and I was lying on my stomach (more like sprawled on my laptop) staring out at the window of our rented, humble abode in Bacolod. It was my rest day from work and for some unknown reason I was...well, restless.  I smiled at the irony and a fleeting thought crossed my mind. Have I ever made someone smile at the thought of me, during one of these idle, quiet afternoons?

Probably that was the the time I started writing "I Want To Be". Ironically, the poem is self-explanatory even to someone who is not that into poetry, yet it took me so much time to finish. I did a stanza every other day, made some revisions, rewrote many lines, and manically rearranged couplets. I religiously checked for grammatical errors, thought of more appropriate words to replace those that did not sit well with the poet in me, and it's been  a struggle to rid the poem of 'obvious' rhymes. I worked from work, contemplating of lines to add to the poem in the middle of talking to my customers. This poem, in its way, drove me crazy! You'd think I'd enter a contest! lol

The thing is, I wanted the poem to be flawless, because it would be a gift to someone very special, dedicated to someone I have not met yet:  my future husband. When you have my heart split open and take a peek inside, this poem would be written all over it. I simply meant every breath of word in this poem. I poured so much, everything into this and I'd honestly cry a river if he wouldn't appreciate this someday.My friends who saw this found it beautiful (recently posted on Facebook), and I pray he'd feel the same way. So here goes:

I Want To Be

Your very first thought in the morning

that paints the blue in your sky
The smile that lingers in your lips
as quiet, idle afternoons pass by

The face that crosses your mind
in random places, at the oddest times
The dream that makes you sigh in your sleep
as it keeps you awake each night

The lover whose kisses you'd choose over wine
whose eyes speak of desire reflecting yours
The lightest touch that can set you on fire
able to content you, and drive you for more

The one to fill your life with laughter
and calm your heart during a storm
The quiet strength that makes you weak
yet the gentleness that keeps you strong

The fantasy you have been holding secret...
and the reality you have been wishing for

All I want to be
is your everything.

xoxo

My Rose

Enchanted by your beauty

Driven wild by your scent

You make me long, impassioned

To touch and possess you.

But when I reached out, My Rose

I bled, pierced by your thorns

In pain I could hardly fathom

How it ached more to let go.

This poem had been on my head, apparently begging to be written on paper, for days now. But since I procrastinated... However, this turned out one of the poems which are personally dear to me, probably because it seems so simple but when you're brokenhearted it becomes more meaningful. Love is like a rose in many ways: it is beauty and thorns, it pleasures and it hurts. But even love can cause a lot of pain, we hold on to it because it's too miraculous to give up on.It's worth the pain and the tears. 

Of course when love deals you crap, you realize that (as Pablo Neruda wrote) love is short, forgetting is long.

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