Ang Disyembre ko ay Malungkot

Ang Disyembre Ko Ay Malungkot It's cold now. December is fast approaching and do i ever know that because everyday a Winpop appears on my PC at work, reminding us of how many days before the season of commercialism commences. hah.

Fetal

Fetal (written while ensconced in the Pod)

If the room temperature is cold, you should feel my insides. Someone can blow a kiss into my mouth and his breath would condense into tiny icicles down at the back of my throat. It would leave a trail of tiny pinpricks of slivered ice, embedding themselves into my internal organs.

I was thinking of the fetal position just a couple of days ago. People would just naturally assume this position after receiving and trying to absorb the harshest of blows. Why, psychiatrists even have a fancy name for it, ‘psychological regression.’

We retreat. We cower. We tuck our chin into our chest and fold our knees into our abdomen then we hug ourselves, clinging on for dear life. The same way that we were during the nine months we spent peacefully swimming inside our mother’s womb. If our mothers had only known that we would be let out in this bullshit of a world, maybe they’d have think twice before conceiving us.

My knuckles crack every now and then. It competes with the sound that my sleek, black keyboard makes after every character typed. A clack followed by a crunch.

I would not be able to withstand this coldness even if I am already frozen,

Nothing could really pummel you down more than a love that withered before it even bloomed. It’s your utter powerlessness that makes it harder…there is nothing that you could have fought for from the start because it was already over before it had even begun. How can one get past that?

How can one attempt to recover from a heartbreak that never existed (challenging Sartre, are we?).

Even as I was writing this, I could hear my head laughing heartlessly at my heart.

Pissed Off

Pissed Off I seem to have a knack for pissing people off lately (people at work, to be exact). Being one's self is becoming a dangerous proposition, I belatedly realize. I was just so used to being whenever I am around friends that I keep forgetting that my officemates are a whole lot different people and some may find it hard to accept who or what I am or some may find my lifestyle and personality a little uncompromising for their taste.

The thing is, I wouldn't really care if it were up to me. Heck, I piss people off just because I like pissing them and seeing them pissed. It's just different, that's all. I mean I could call Mai a frigid, cradle snatcher and I'd probably get away with it. It's different at work though, because it's hard to supress my monstrosity.

Self-doubt would then seep into the the, uh, 'parchment cracks' of my already-sluggish mind, un-caffeinated bloodstream, and perpetually growling stomach. Not a pretty sight, huh?

I've lived in this world long enough to know that you just can't please everybody so you just have to live even if your mere presence makes the other person's stomach churn. Hear that, Chel? Just live and work. Let them (her) hate you in peace.

(Whew, finally feeling like my old self again.)

- - -

What's with the funeral and life theme songs? Everyone that I know has one. I probably should jump on the bandwagon, huh?

Wild Horses

The Sundays

Childhood living is easy to do

things you wanted I bought them for you

Graceless lady, you know who I am,

You know I can't let you slide through my hands

Wild Horses, Couldn't drag me away,

Wild, wild horses, Couldn't drag me away...

I watched you suffer a dull, aching pain

Now you decided to show me the same

No sweeping exits or offstage lines,

Can make me feel bitter or treat you unkind

Wild Horses, Couldn't drag me away,

Wild, wild horses, Couldn't drag me away...

I know I dreamed you a sin and a lie,

I have my freedom but I don't have much time

Faith has been broken tears must be cried,

Let's do some living after we die

Wild Horses, Couldn't drag me away,

Wild, wild horses,

We'll ride them someday

Wild, wild horses,

We'll ride them someday