entry (19): feels like insomnia

Sometime in October of 2009

You just don’t stop. It’s not even an option.

If you want to live free and gay then you got to survive in this city of provocation.

Act deaf whenever your mom tells you to come back and get your freaking masters. Play it cool when your brother says he wants you there for his birthday (plus all those potential lesbians he has reserved for you…yum yum).

Whatever happens know you’re having fun with the challenge.

And what happened to you now after that infamous day? October 19 of 2009, you got fired/terminated (whatever comes to term but “fired” is easier and more like it). First failure you consider to exist in your life’s record. Ah, there goes the problem with you straight A student; finished school without a scratch. While everybody was cheering you, yes those positivists, telling you it is not even considered a failure; that you just fell short, you were just in the wrong time and thus not making it. But you know you hate euphemisms, and you’ve always been too hard for yourself, so no matter how we coat things up you know you did fail. You fail big time.

You went to Cebu – or rephrase that – they got you, traveled you here three weeks after you’ve graduated and pimp you good. Oh yes, they certainly know how to pimp you good. But they changed something in you after five months and a half; just a tiny fabric in your system that you thought you can never have.

See the old you wouldn’t even care less. You always don’t care (not in a bad way) of what happens next because somehow you have always believed in people. You believed in them so much because you knew each one has the accountability to their own actions and that you’ve always been positive towards them. But when you were told to be “assessed” and went in that room and came out of it jobless, you really need to think of what’s going to happen next.

Life baby, it is in front of you and it is waiting for you next move. You are by the way in a foreign land; no daddy and mommy to feed you when you play the role of a bum. No fridge, no unlimited internet, no exclusive bedroom with the disco ball, and no girlfriend (now why do I feel the need to include the last one?). Surprisingly you discovered that you hate to be a bum. You were incredibly restless that you haven’t even given it a day’s rest. You still got cash and mom is calling you to come back but you knew you’d just be spoilt (not to mention forced to act straight). So you declined the offer. Call it your decision to really be independent. So on with your resume and off with your appetite. Yes, for a week you can’t even force yourself to eat and in return have successfully morphed into a Marlboro puffing dragon. It got you a little thinner though.  You have grown conscious about how you spend your money, how to manage your time and how to appreciate the early morning sun. Cut the drama; you have grown (as icky as it sounds) maturely (oh f**k kill me).

And it kills you because you are contradicting yourself. You always want to prove people wrong. Jhunjai assessed you as someone who never quit and you just wanted badly to prove him wrong. You just wanted to quit. Yet you didn’t. You proved him right (and now you just want to bitch slap him as an endearment). No offense, you know you like the effin guy (even though you know you’re more of a man than him).

So you live. You got two companies running after you and have signed in with the first one that offered you a contract. You are living independently in Cebu with the leisure of being yourself. Now you just need to bring closure to that particular day; you breathe and you write about it (perfectly knowing that you always pour things out in words). Now it’s done with. Put it in your life’s treasury, lock it and label it as “PAST”.