Thursday, October 19, 2006

And they ask me why I'm straight...

Yes, it's true - This world is weird.

One more than one occasion I have been asked if I was a lesbian. It's been asked so many times that I've actually found no offense in it anymore (Let's just say that the first time I was asked, a Banshee would've been put to shame). Anyway, I just find it utterly humorous now... because most people can't seem to acknowledge the fact that one Hungarian Sausage and 2 boiled eggs comprise my breakfast of champions... and lunch... sometimes dinner and in between.

I suppose you could credit it to the fact that I am the youngest and the only girl in my family. Growing up with only two older brothers to look up to wasn't exactly the best breeding ground for becoming a prima ballerina. Don't get me wrong... when I was a kid, I lived for My Little Pony, Rainbow Brite, Gem and Barbie. But, G.I. Joe's and Tonka trucks were mainstays of my playtime, because the GI Joe's were small enough to play Barbie's kids, and The big red firetruck was enough for my stuffed Sprite doll to ride on (the poor thing just wouldn't fit Rainbow Brite's convertible).

But in hindsight, the aformentioned things are only a small part of why I am straight and why I know I'm in the right place.

I was vacationing in Manila last April, and in one of those summer nights, a good old friend asked me to join her (before we get anywhere else, lemme just say she's gay) and some people for a gig and some drinks. Having nothing to do, I said yes. So I took a cab, got to the place, and met her at the door. We smoked for a little while, then her friends came out to join us. She intro'ed me, and suffice it to say that I didn't need to assume that the group of girls she was with were like her. Of course, at some point they all managed to ask me if I was lesbo or not. I didn't mind. Like I said, I'd been asked so many times before... so I was pretty sure I handled the situation fairly well. That was, until, her friend asked me what I've never been asked before.

"So why aren't you gay?"

I spat-splashed the Cuba Libre I was sipping straight to the face of the guy who was beside me. (Ladies and gentlemen, I shit you not on this one.)

After utmost apologies to the guy, and having thought that I heard her wrong, I said, "Say what?" She asked me again... and apparently, I did hear it right.

I told her about my family background and how I never really mean to act so tomboyish, and all of the things I mentioned a couple of paragraphs earlier. Thinking that would be enough, I shut up and proceeded to sip my drink again. But it wasn't.

"Yeah, I get that. But really, why aren't you gay?"

This time I almost choked on the dollop that I drank. But it also made me think.

Why exactly am I not gay? What is it about being a woman, and having some form of romantic intimacy with a woman, that doesn't sit well with me? Why have I chosen to seek "love" with a man instead of someone who could possibly understand my needs more than a dozen men can?

3 more glasses and 7 sticks later, I found my answer. (Too bad, the Ellen DeGeneres wannabe was too smashed to remember it.)

It's because I need the balance of actual reality to complement my overabundance of emotions.

In my opinion, men and women weren't created equal (Before any feminists or woman rights activists start chasing after me, please hear me out) - Men are denser when it comes to the emotion department, while women tend to immerse themselves in it. What I mean is... when it all boils down to feelings, girls are more sensitive than guys will ever be (And I wasn't the only one who thought of this... Erik Erikson and the rest of them psychologists can vouch for me).

Take, for example, a simple instance where a friend of mine falls for my longtime guy friend - she's barely known the guy, and yet it's so obvious to everyone just how much she feels him... sometimes even going as far as stupid things go by physically pushing herself just a wee bit further to the guy. And how does my boy bud feel about this?

Nothing at all.

No, he isn't an insensitive prick as most people say he is. Rather, he sticks to the proclamation he made in the earlier stages of their friendship - that he has no feelings, and he will never have feelings, for her. Yeah sure, sometimes he'd get irritated... other times he'd find the things she does sweet. But the fact of the matter is (and this he's told me a hundred times over), there's just nothing there. So why would he force himself when he know that there wasn't even anything there to begin with? Ok, point taken.

But what about her?

For a little while she tried to hang on, hoping against hope that he just might change his mind and see her intent. But in the end, things got a little messy and now everyone is just mad at each other - But that's another story. The point is, she hung on to hopes... while he didn't even give himself the chance to hope at all.

Even outside that situation, I could think of many an instance where my theory proves true; but doing that would only lead me to certain dissertations I have no intention of making. So I'll stick to the subject that I'm trying to put across.

The fact of the matter is, women feel and think more while men tend to leave themselves as is. I know I'm no expert, but I know that much is true. We, girls, (Yes, we, because having grown up with 2 boys doesn't excuse me from what I'm about to say) are more inclined to oversensitize matters And boys? Well, they're the ones who desensitize it for us. When we think as far as clouds go, the men pull us back to earth by sticking the real scores to us. When we say "It's Manolo Blahniks," they say "It's just shoes." When we think "Oh he ate the cookies, he loves me," they clearly correct it by thanking us for being the bestest friend they ever had. When we start nagging them about they're cheating ways, they tell us we think too much. Those things, cynical as they may sound, are true. Yes, sometimes we overthink while the men see things as is. And that is exactly why I choose to be with men - because my overthinking is clearly slapped to common sense by a man's inability to do so.

So, now that I think about it... Why am I not gay?

I'm not gay because I'm already emotional as it is, I'm not gay because I am a drama queen in every essence, and I'm not gay because even if I look or act like a tomboy, I am the whirlwhind of womanhood to the very core. So if I were to place myself romantically with another woman, I am going to be one of these things - A mental case, an asshole, an emotional vampire, or a worse bitch than I already am. Unfortunately, none of the above appeal to my palate. I would rather die than inflict hurt on, or be hurt by, a woman. God knows, a woman's sting is worse than a stingray's.

Lastly, I'm not gay because I would rather have sausages for breakfast... and lunch... sometimes dinner and in between.

Thursday, October 12, 2006

Of Changing Toys

Change has always been my most uncomfortable companion. To me it seems as if everytime's change comes around the corner, pandora's box opens up and swallows the universe whole... leaving nothing else but a few radioactive cockroaches and a new must-adjust-to environment in its wake.

No, i am not afraid of change... averse, maybe... but in the long run, i learn to deal. I have to, otherwise, i would never survive.. nor would i stand in this plateau of betterness i am currently residing in.

It's just that sometimes, i fail to understand it when change comes along, packaged to the likeness of a new toy complete with shiny exteriors, we act like children ever so ready to ditch our old playthings in exchange for the new item. Yeah sure, new toys are good. But are the old ones really all that bad to just so foolishly throw away?

It's sad really... We play with the new editions in our lives and forget the old, rickety but trusty, features we actually need. We think we're better off forgetting our past, but how will we ever be able to complete who we are if we do?

This enrty is actually a pseudodiscreet message to a friend. You see, she's found some new things to play with... and somewhere along the way, she's forgotten how to look back. She's forgotten that somewhere around the orbit of her earth, she's got these old trusty friends who would never dare to miss a moment in her life. She's so excited about the new things in her life, th only thing she doesn't know is that behind the lines, she's got a group of hilariously wonderful people cheering her on... and even though they're being ignored at the moment, they're not minding it one single bit. Because they know that they love her, and if she should ever get tired of that fast-paced life she's made, they're just around... read to hold her down when she needs to be held. There is just one prayer these friends of hers share...

The prayer that no matter how busy, or preoccupied, or hectic her modern times can be... she would still find the time to, one day, look back to where they are and smile that smile of love and appreciation. Because God knows, it's all they want and need.

The Return Flight

On some days, i would wish a trip back to my innocence... Back where there was only 2 houses down my block and there were only the neighbors' kids to play with... Back when the only things I got to worry about were, food, tv, and toys... Back to the uncomplicated simplicity of it all... Back to my purity.

Don't get me wrong, life is great for my adult self. I've lived to party, gotten drunk on occassion, and have been known to stone myself wasted at a time or two... Believe, those things are great. It's what happens during regular days when we're not all boozed up and shot over that drive me to this point of helpless nostalgia. All that drama about the complications of life, love, and friendship... All of that... they're... too heavy to carry on sane, sober shoulders.

All that jazz about this friend's problems and this person's issues... It's just too taxing now. Don't get me wrong, i love life and i live to love friendship and the strings that it brings... But sometimes, you can only take so much of "Why is she like that?" or "Can you tell him to quit being an ass?" or "She's got a problem, we should try to fix it." For the love of God, we all have our lives to live...

Fine, call me escapist. But doesn't anyone ever get tired of it... of living in an age where every kind of stress of any kind of source is possible? Doesn't anyone ever just want to hang the baggage, even for a little bit?

Some days I wonder what it would be like to be me now and live the way I did when I was six. Happless thought, i know... but what if that were at all possible? Can you imagine anyone in their 20s living through the eyes of an innocent child who is without the taint and tarnish of adulthood? Would there be less drama and more comedy? Would we have been happier? Or would a 22-year lifetime of knowledge on angst and melancholic fervor still seep through the skin? What ifs and would haves, all of it.

But it helps to get away... even for a little while.

Two Cents on The Matter

There is a dollop of mindlessness in commercialized romanticism... and we are all stigmatized by its hyperactive ability to send out confusing symbolisms. In the long run, we all fall victim to it... so we reduce ourselves to pathetic little creatures waiting for love's reprieve - that effervescent hope that someday sooner than later all the hang-ups from past shattered hearts will heal... and he/she who means to save us from ourselves shall bring it in a glowing red box with gold lace ribbons all around.

okay, so maybe i'm becoming too much of a cynic. But really. is there anyone out in this semi-jaded universe who can tell me otherwise? Is there someone who can tell me the he/she does not want that kind of affection... be it from mom, dad, ate, kuya, honey, baby, sweety, and whoever the snugglefuck else?

Didn't think so.

Truth is, we all have it bad - that old feeling writhing inside the depths of that traitorous proverbial heart that tells us we could live better each day if someone, anyone, loved us enough to save us from our own misery... The only difference is that some of us just happen to do it secret agent style - covered and concealed.


Common Dynamites

In the span of a lifetime, there are exactly 525,600 moments to woo or waste with each year that passes. The wasting doesn't matter much, for it is the wooing that embeds itself into the memory fo the mind's eye.

I've learned, that as far as being a citizen of the world is concerned, those who are strong do not surpass those who seem to be weak-kneed. External strength, i've come to realize, is a facade of those who are actually fragile - in every sense of detriment there is. For one is not strong, unless she admits to her inner weaknesess...

I have questions which for now shall remain unanswered. But as of today, my life is ruled by the heartbreaking bass... The thump-thumps of the drum push me to my interior passions that have been dying to come out. The sun in my eyes, the wind on my face, and the surf at my feet lap up everything that is me - I am of the world and the world is of me.

The music of the cosmos reverberates my entirety... I implode by the light of the laser tazers that snap at me through wonderland's looking glass. True that the words of a fool like myself may mean enigmatic nothings to all else, but to me they encompass it all - every idea, every dream, every concept, every me.

I am John Lennon's Fool on the Hill, yes, the eyes on my head see the world spinning round. But this fool yearns more than just to see... she yearns to feel... to experience all that's there to be in this life. Hence, the drastic rundown of the 525 600 minutes that comprise my every year. Moments trashed, moments used, all of it... all worth it.

I cannot quit... because i am not quite. I am here, and there is nothing the befallen can do to stop me. So sue me and bite me... Kick my ass if you will. I shall stand and raise myself up - to shout nonsensical philosophies for the world in yet another day.

Wednesday, October 11, 2006

Racing Thoughts

Amazingly enough... I do give a shit.

Can I stop myself from being human? Can I refrain from acting up like this?

Yeah sure, everything may just as well be every-fuckin-thing, as I would always say...

But I am, after all, a person... with feelings... emotions...

And i'm sorry.

I'm sorry because, apparently, I AM NOT AS DESENSITIZED AS I THOUGHT.

And even more unbelievably, I'm sorry for sharply feeling the pangs of negligence and rejection...

Your negligence and rejection.

The most bitter taste of this pill called pain is the prevalent sensation rolling around my entire body...

Pain from your indifference.

It keeps me wondering...

Is the rift between you and his assholiness causing us to gain a not-so-great divide?

I can't help it...

I try to blind it from my mind's eye... but even that proves to be the most exhausting exercise in futility.

The tears won't fall... because maybe there aren't any...

Not yet, anyway.

Watching Wonka

15 years does a hell of a lot for a person... Studio 23 Presents just had to remind me of that. Willy Wonka and The Chocolate Factory was on - THE 1970-something WILLY WONKA... and in my opinion, still the only movie of its kind (Marc Nichols and Johnny Depp will just have to forgive me).

I remember watching it for the first time... I was 6, and it was just the best movie ever (Otherwise, I wouldn't have called Gene Wilder Willy Wonka til I discovered his real name last year. It's seriously embarrassing, but he was such a good Wonka I just couldn't remember him otherwise). The songs (Pure Imagination was the essence of the whole movie, such a shame that Marc Nichols didn't include it in the recent version)... The Oompa Loompa's ("Oompa Loompa Doompa Dee Doo... I've got another puzzle for you...")... The Candy Paradise with the Chocolate Falls and the river (and the extra large gummy bears perched on the Candy trees)... The lickable Wallpaper (my most favorite treat)... The Golden Wonka-vator (The Glass one in the new movie just didn't cut it for me) and the Wonka-mobile (which was, again, missing in the new movie)... just basically everything about that movie made captured me in a way that no other fantasy movie has (Well, 'cept maybe for Alice and Wonderland and her whole K-hole adventure).

Watching it again15 years later still hasn't changed my mind. If anything, it just made me see the masked meanings my then 6-year-old brain couldn't process.

... and right now, I seriously I could take whatever Willy Wonka was on during that time... because that whole headtrip of a movie is one hallucination I definitely would like to trip on..