Monday, June 16, 2014

This That Is

"I'm serious about giving this is a shot," you say.

You've been saying that a lot lately. I don't understand numbers, but I know you said it more than five times today. You've been telling me that since day one of this. This? Yes, this. This that is undefined and unclear at the moment. It is what it is and I am sure there are words to describe this. We just can't decide what words to use to define whatever we think we have. Funny how we love words but can't use them to determine what we are. 


"I'm up for anything," you say.

Anything? What is anything and how do you define that? What are you not up for and what determines what you are willing to do? You being up for anything scares the hell out of me. I might be leading you to hell and you'd still thank me. No. I'm not up for anything. I'm up for two specific things only. Either this ends now or we prolong this by labeling it. 


"I don't know what I want," you admit.

I know what I want. I want this to begin before we decide that it should end. I want us to stop being such a pussy about it. I want to look you in the eye and say, "Well, we're so fucked up now aren't we? We can do so much better than this." I want an explanation. I want to know what's going on in your head. I can't read your thoughts. I want this to end. Or I want this to begin. We can't have both. It's all or nothing.


"But I am serious," you assure me. 

And yet here you are with those eyes that may have the ability to see into my soul. You assure me and reassure me over and over again that you are serious. I am beginning to think that you repeat that phrase to remind yourself that you asked for this too. I didn't. I never did. But god, am I enjoying the torture you're putting me through. 


"How serious are you?" you ask.

Serious enough.

Monday, April 14, 2014

Fine

How are you?

Simple question that irritates me. So please stop asking.

(Total tinitingnan niyo ako at hinuhusgahan ang bawat galaw ko, diba? So baka mas alam niyo pa ang dapat kong isagot sa tanong niyo.)



Person: Hi Anna!
Me: Oh hello there.

I know what's coming next. Can we skip the part where you ask me how I'm doing? Can I smile and pretend that you won't ask? Can I turn around and walk away from you? I cannot? It's rude? It's not socially acceptable? It's insulting? Alright. So let me just stay here and put on the most real form of this fake smile of mine.

Person: How are you?
Me: Uhm. . Hmmm. .Like. .

How many more lies can I spit out to make this person go away and leave me alone? If I tell this person how I am, there will be a backlash. I do not want to deal with that right now. I also do not want to hear what Scripture verse I should be reading or what prayer I should be praying. Trust me, I've tried reading those verses and praying those prayers already. I do not want to hear that when you were my age you also dealt with a similar situation. You did not. My situation is not the same as yours. Do not pity me. I am strong enough.

Person: Should I not be asking how you are?
Me: Maybe.

Yes, you shouldn't. Unless you can take hours of me ranting, venting, crying, then please ask. If you can take my mood swings, depression and fleeting moments of happiness which I seem to ignore, go ahead and ask me how I am. Better yet, ask me about my dreams, my passions and my interests. Ask me why religion irritates me. Ask for my opinion. Ask me why I am scared of marriage or family or even relationships and love. Ask me why I cry myself to sleep, yet wake up the next day with a smile on my face. Ask me how drowning feels like.

Person: No, really. How are you?

I am not fine. I am not fine because I am messed up and screwed up. I am hungry and in need of food, but I don't want to put on weight. Let me starve now. I lack sleep and am crabby, but coffee will fix this for me. I am sad because I know that look on your face. You look at me and judge me. I know you hate my piercings. And my green hair. And my black clothes. I am weird and wild but I am still my mom's angel. I am bored. I am happy. And sarcastic.

Me: I'm fine. Thank you.

Tsss.