The Fickle-Minded Boy Who Breaks a Heart Every Year

For the past three years, the heart that kept breaking was mine.

I have been unstable for the past couple of weeks after finding out he brought his ex-fiance to his grandmother 2 years ago, while also seeing me. I was heartbroken and devastated, of course. I always knew, but it's always heartbreaking when you find out it's real and does not only exist in your head. But there is nothing I could do to change the past. He claims he has always been sincere with me. But a huge part of me does not understand

From Russia, With Love

It feels like an eternity has passed since I've posted anything on here. You probably guessed right. A lot has happened since I finished my Master's degree, which was what I've been obsessing on in my past entries.  I've read each entry over and over again and it made me realize how much of a miserable little fucker I was back then.

Don't get me wrong. I still am and will always be. When everything stands still and it gets too quiet, I still feel this void twirling around, expanding, throbbing, and breathing heavily like an entirely different entity with a mind of its own inside my chest. Like a mini black hole that gobbles the life I try to create. Some people call it a demon, monster, hovering shadow, humungous melancholic dog on a spiky leash, beehive that's home to bees that are buzzing eternally, or whatnot. But I've long come to terms with the idea that as long as I still breathe, this "thing" is here to stay. Perhaps it vaguely resembles the concept of a "best friend." Best friend... what the hell does that even mean? I tried pronouncing it and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. It sounds so foreign I could only see my mouth moving. 

Just so you know, I'm supposed to be working right now. On a Sunday. But here I am writing yet another entry all the way from Saint Petersburg, Russia. It's been ten months since I've left for the cold, cold north.  In all honesty, I don't even know where to start. But I'll try anyway so bear with me.

Somewhere at -18 to -20 degrees, I met a boy. 

But it wasn't your typical he-asked-me-out-on-a-date type of thing.  Like an accident, it just happened. Pleasantly, at that.

He opened up a different side of me I never knew existed, or forgotten I had. I've always been the "just fucking do it but you better be prepared, and there has to be a plan B" type, but he pushed my boundaries all the way up to the next level. He may sound like some adrenaline junkie, but hey, you only life once. That and I try to pull him back to safety every now and then, even if his stubbornness gets in the way of the harness. 

Ironically, being around him makes me feel safe. Happiness comes with a price nowadays. I laugh more than I should, and I hold on to it as long as I could. A bit sullen, too, perhaps, because of the plethora of uncertainties that lies ahead. Nauseous, even, from being dragged on to his roller coaster thought processes and spontaneity, which happens to match my own set of neurotic tendencies. 

Just like that, I was drawn completely; like an addict to his fix, like a moth to a flame --- like a fucking idiot. 

I know where this road is gonna take me. I've seen it all in movies: Casablanca, The Graduate, Annie Hall, Mulholland Drive, Vertigo, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, In the Mood for Love, Gone with the Wind.  I've read it over and over in books:  Love in the Time of Cholera, The God of Small Things, Midsummer Night's Dream, 'Tis, To Kill A Mockingbird, Middlesex. The list could go on and on. I'm quite aware I'll burn badly and wither away any time soon. Who knows when that'll be. Maybe tomorrow, or the day after that. Perhaps next year. Or even right at this moment.  

It feels like I'm standing on the edge of a cliff, as I inch forward, snapping a twig in half with the tip of my shoes. The air's crisp as it gently sweeps down on my nape, and wrapping around my neck and brushing its way to my lips. It tastes like freshly ground tea. I spread out my arms and look straight ahead to the sea of clouds floating before me, not even attempting to look down.

At this point, I don't no longer care how far down I'd fall.  Or if he's coming with me. 

Just a little step forward... 

Dear Self

I know you're falling apart. Don't worry. Everything will be ok.

the process of weeding out.

I've met a bunch of people after I started dating Maria. I'm never comfortable with strangers. My distrust consumes me whenever I'm  around people I barely know. So I became a spectator instead, sitting in a corner with a beer in hand, like a creeper energized for the kill. Theatrical bullshit, I know. Don't get me wrong, I'm actually very good friends with some of them while the rest are, well, out of the picture for reasons I fail to comprehend. This so-called "barkada" continues to thrive despite the complexities in their network. Personalities clash, rumors flow freely from one mouth to the next then to next until the cycle closes like luke warm Red Horse on a Friday night at Sarah's, only this time, the rumor has evolved to something else, sarcasm swarms in multitude through floral dresses and ruffled tops cultivating the pebbled walk of this so-called "friendship", backstabbing is the currency... it's surprising how this setup survived the challenges of time despite a chaotic background.

This is the analysis I have so far from the existing group I call "Tropang Route196"

Divine Entity: Internet

Divine Fraud: Music

1. Powerpuff Girls

• suckers for fame
• Motto: "we are the center of the universe"
• thinks highly of themselves by expressing skewed and senseless opinions on their social accounts such as twitter, facebook and of course, blogs
• rant excessively when life gives them lemons and expect people to sympathise with them
• may or may not have a cult following, all of which are the same losers from the internet
• tough on the outside, rotten on the inside
• crybabies, these individual love to sob quietly in bed with a pillow tucked in their arms; a laptop lying on bed blinking back at them
• loves to pick on people and shares this on their social accounts
• use their social accounts as weapons against people they dislike because their ovaries say so
• lives with parents but whines about life

2. Feline Boys

• one of the girls 
• they believe they're tough
• have ovaries as big as their beer bellies                                        
• don't know when to shut up, calm down, drop it
• passive-aggressive
• pissed at everything

3. Indieverts

• the awkwards
• tough on the internet but real soft in real life
• 
  

4. Boys will be boys

• fun loving assholes

5. Mean Raiders

6. Free Flowers

I wish you'd stop writing song about me.

sullen and sultry

For years, I've always felt alone. A distant past never

i feel the same in different ways. wake up.

Ten years, I've grown accustomed to to what haven