7.21.2006

A Riff of a Certain Sad Song



I found a way to know if you are sad or not. Listen to sad songs. See if you can relate. Smell your surroundings if there is something fishy enough that you could sense, or something worth crying for just so you could relate. Feel the song and see if it really touches you.


Most sad songs that we have are love songs, those which sing of ended relationships, unrequited love, basically about broken hearts. For instance, you could listen to “I"ll Never Get Over You Getting Over Me,” and try to check if your last relationship was a bad one, or if you were the one who got hurt the most. Another one that you could try if you want to check on your last relationship is “Separated” by Usher. That is another sad song, and even if you cannot relate to it, you’ll find yourself thinking about your friend’s very painful break-up, that is how moving the song is.


You see, I was listening to a rather old personalized CD of mine that I got from Sir Glenn three semesters ago, and after three semesters, I heard “Best I Ever Had” by Vertical Horizon. And yes, it was yet another sad song. Listening to it should have been nostalgic just like the previous hundred times I did, but the nostalgia did not come, even if I grab it by the collar and drag it outside its room and into my door. I guess some supposed nostalgic are bound to pass away, or paralyzed as it was in this case.


I used to set this said song as a background two years ago when I was getting on with my wallow sessions – how lonely my life is because I do not have somebody special in my life, that I was getting tired going out with a different person every week, and life gets a little vexing when all that you do is only for yourself. Of course, you were right about thinking I just came out from a break-up. Although that break-up was not a really bad one, it left me with a sense of foreboding for a bad time in my life where I would spend my summer nights cold… Do not judge me, I was young. (And I know better now.) I thought that my then partner was the best I could ever have, and I was left alone looking out on the grey sky morning with tears brimming in my eyes.
Looking out on that grey sky morning almost got me blinded and I was close to not discovering the best that I could ever have. Not long after this heartbreak, I was in another relationship which I knew from the start was a real thing. I realized that it holds true for me that that person is just beside you, so you do not need to look elsewhere. I did not actually look, I just realized that here is the person that I should fall in love with, be as it may that the person does not fit any of my preconceived perfect half. Do not get me wrong, for I was never the type who is just dying to have a lovelife. It’s just that I deem it would feel better if you are living with one.
We will be celebrating our second year in two weeks time, and so far, this is the best, the best that I could ever have.


My previous heartaches turned out to be a whole module of lessons in life and love: how it is to actually fall, how to handle a relationship, how to take care of another person, how to say I’m sorry even if you do not mean just to stop the bickering, how to wake up earlier than usual to surprise your loved one with a big breakfast, how to enjoy drinking milk even if you are lactose-intolerant all in the spirit of sharing.


And sometimes, you two get to listen to sad songs even accidentally, happy that you were both not in the position to be able to empathize with the interpreter, and happier that you both could understand how it is to sing the song, and being over and done with it the happiest.

Rav De Castro
expressions

02:46

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7.18.2006

Provincial Buses are 24/7




I play a big part in our country's public transportation community. I am an everyday figure in our Metro Rail Transit, an avid supporter of provincial bus lines, a jeepney connoiseur, a tricycle veteran, a taxi fan, a tenured commuter. Do not get me wrong, I have also wanted to have a car of my own. But commuting has its own perks, believe me.


I started this affair with public transportion when I worked somewhere along Ayala Avenue, Makati City. I travel everyday from Sto. Tomas, Batangas to Makati and back. Of course, I have planned to get a place of my own to spare me the hassle of it all, but as more and more tickets are being piled in my suitcase, I realized that it is not what I want. You see, commuting has its own perks.


But, of course, there is the thing about the rain, or typhoons, or hurricanes, or earthquakes, or a deluge, but these are not everyday situations. I think of them as those peanuts which are supposed to be lost in your McFlurry Oreos. For instance, just yesterday, I had to go to a Taft Avenue bus station to get a ride home, despite the bitter fact that all it takes me to do that was a couple of cartwheels after SM Megamall to hail one. You see, the clouds of Shaw Boulevard was pouring droplets of rain as big as cats and dogs, and my Fibrella just went berserk because of the wind. (The X-Men fan in me cursed Ororo and her temper.) So I crossed the street through MRT and was saved from the rain, also because there are buses going to Taft already waiting there in the shed. So there I was headed to Taft, doubling my usual travel time, where I can comfortably board one of those provincial buses to take me home.


I have been a prominent figure of the daily public transportation system for a almost 4 years now. Commuting is a part of my routine. I commute when I go out on gimmicks, and sleeping over at a friend's place after a night-out has never been an option for me. Provincial buses are a 24/7 thing.


One of my favorite bus escapades were those rides which took off somewhere in the Bicol region. These buses are a little community in their own right, where people have pillows and blankets, sound asleep in their rather cramped seats. seeing them is an ennobling experience: the elderly couple sharing a meal of menudo and rice, with two little children waiting for their turns to be spoon-fed, and Lola is very careful in case the ride gets bumpy.


People ask me if I ever get tired, my usual answer is, "No, it's just an hour or so away only." What I never tell these people is that I use this spare time to think, to reflect. Sometimes, I get inspired to write a poem. Or essays. Or maybe mull over a book. I used to read novels on my way but later I discovered the thrill of reading your mind. I have also read somewhere that if you are mad at somebody, it is rather healthy to just think about how you want to get even with them. Ergo, I have tortured and wrecked the lives of a lot of people already in these bus rides.
Not only do I kill people in these bus rides, but I also enriched quite a number of lives, including my own of course, in these affairs. I made mental notes about telling a friend about this new shampoo that might revive her hair or about a certain Sbarro pasta that I'll have my mom try. What with the Lotto jackpot billboard, I was able to buy the latest BMW topdown car and found myself cruising the streets of New York City.


Commuting has its perks, I'm telling you. The spare time you have for yourself while travelling is all yours to meditate or just let those thoughts fly. As for my case, I let my meditations fly and have me catch them later in a sheet of paper. In these hour-long bus rides, in these fifteen-minute jeepney rides, my Muses find me, whispering in my ears amidst the proverbial hustle and bustle of traffic.


Maybe my Muses reside in these public means of transportation, and maybe what I should have said earlier was "public transportation plays a very big part in me." As perky as the car could get, as bumpy as the road could be, that's how the wind shall blow through the window next to my seat.

Rav De Castro
expressions

02:42

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7.05.2006

Volatility




Funny how you sometimes can't name how you are feeling. Believing that capturing these feelings in a capsule called a word could make you feel better, you desperately try and give a name to it. Lonely is too common, depressed is rather overrated. Angry is not what it is exactly, but irritable could pass but only for one little aspect of it. It's a little crazy, yes, crazy. But not crazy psychological, it's crazy like chaotic, or maybe crazy helter-skelter to reduce its weight. Having a name to call your situation also will make it easier for you to be able to tell it to a friend, the usual emotional catharsis especially when you are incapable of tears. To top it all, just thinking about this magnifies your frustration.


My frustration.


Now, I think I'll call myself "volatile."


Noah Webster and his partner Merriam seemed to be a little confused when they gave a definition to this word. Gladly I was able to resolve this myself. As per their online dictionary, VOLATILE means


1 : flying or having the power to fly2 a : LIGHTHEARTED, LIVELY b : easily aroused c : tending to erupt into violence : EXPLOSIVE3 a : unable to hold the attention fixed because of an inherent lightness or fickleness of disposition b : characterized by or subject to rapid or unexpected change4: difficult to capture or hold permanently.


Well, if only I could fly then one of my problems is solved already! I'll immediately fly away from my so-called home. Well, that's another word that is society's shit. You are obliged to call the house where you live with your folks, (e.g. parents, siblings) your "home." I thought "home is where the heart is?!"


And lighthearted and lively? That is a farce. But easily aroused and tending to erupt into violence, holds true for me. And I can even admit that I am right now "unable to hold the attention fixed because of an inherent lightness or fickleness of disposition." I'd rather not reiterate on this because I have this paranoia that broadcasting on my blog the situation of my relationship with my partner might magnify whatever bump there is on our road and might send us flying off to yet another rockier road, not chocolate but bitter, dirty mud. You see, the way I am juggling my relationship with my partner and my relationship with my inner demon is "characterized by or subject to rapid or unexpected change." Yet none of them is open to that change.


Despite these loopholes and inconsistencies, I'll say I'll call myself volatile. That's the closer word I can find. That's the easiest way for me to bridle this berserk animal I call my emotions. With that, I won't be "difficult to capture or hold permanently" anymore. Then I might be able to reconcile my partner and my inner demon. Thus, harmony. Despite volatility.

Rav De Castro
expressions

01:21

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7.01.2006

Nakakabobo ang Wisdom Tooth




Sampung minuto bago ang ala-una. Apatnapung minuto bago ang lunch. Masaya sa bago kong trabaho. Maghihintay ka lang ng paglipas ng oras habang nagliliwaliw sa worldwide web. Syempre, kailangan mong makinig sa itinuturo ng trainer mo, pero mas gusto ko ngayong mag-type. Masyadong magulo ang isip ko para matuto ng panibagong computer system.


Pero wala naman talaga yung kinalaman dito eh.


Nabobobo na yata ako.


Nakakabobo ang wisdom tooth eh. At ang wisdom tooth ko, kahit ganoon ang pangalan n'ya, tanga s'ya. Tumubo s'ya pero sa halip na patayo, pahiga. Eh di kailangan ko ng anim na libong piso para ipabunot s'ya! Haaaaaay.


Wala rin yung kinalaman dito. Parang ako, puro simula, puro intro, pero wala namang chorus. Ni wala akong natatapos.


Mas mabilis pa tumakbo ang isip ko kaysa tunog. Ang dami-daming laman ng utak ko ngayon, hindi ko alam kung ano ang uunahin kong hulihin at ikulong sa mga titik at tuldok. Simbilis ng takbo ng buhay kong wala naman talagang destinasyon. Puro stop-over. Puro pa-gasolina. Parang roadtrip. Gusto ko nang bumaba...


Pero malabo, nasa expressway ako at kapag bumaba ako, mapanganib. Kailangan ko pang maghintay ng isang bayan na pwede kong babaan, ung may mapapara akong jeepney o traysikel. Pero may kulang pa rin...


Saan ako pupunta?


Nakakasawa ang roadtrip. Parang fireworks sa Bagong Taon. Pagkalipas ng ilang minuto, tapos na ang saya. Tapos na ang palabas.


Ang mausok na kalangitan na lang ang matitira sa'yo -- madilim, dahil tapos na ang pagsayaw ng mga ilaw. Nakakasawa maging malaya. Gusto kong pagbawalan ng nanay ko na lumabas sa gabi.


Gusto kong palagi niya akong tinatanong kung saan ako pupunta, at magtetext kapag umalis na ako sa bahay. Gusto kong pagalitan n'ya 'ko kapag madaling-araw na ako umuuwi, at parusahan kung tatlong araw akong hindi umuwi sa bahay nang hindi nagpapaalam. Gusto kong itrato n'ya kong parang walong taong gulang na bata. Bata pa lang ako.


Kunyari lang na kinakaya ang buhay sa labas ng bahay. Kunyari hindi na teenager. Kunyari independent. Kunyari.


Pero dapat ko 'tong panindigan. Gusto kong mabuhay na nang mag-isa. Magkaroon ng sarili kong bahay na sa akin lang ang lahat. Walang kaagaw sa banyo. Walang kaagaw sa toothpaste.


Walang ibang mag-iingay. Walang ibang kasama kundi ako at ang aking mga iniisip.


Sa roadtrip na to, nawawala ako. Wala akong destinasyon. Pero dahil sumakit ang wisdom tooth ko, naghahanap ako ng dentista. Pero wala akong mahanap. Nasa gitna ako ng rumaragasang kawalan. Walang saysay ang busina sa kawalan na lumulunod sa akin ngayon.


Masyado ko kasi yatang minadali ang buhay ko. Pati wisdom tooth ko tumutubo agad, nabobobo tuloy ako.

Rav De Castro
expressions

01:07

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::SOLILOQUY::

these are
my thOught bubbles.
you can read them;
listen tO my ranting.
Or not.
i do not need yOur senses.
my wOrds find sanctuary in my writing, as i find sanctuary in my wOven wOrds.
this is me sOlilOquizing,
thrOwing wOrds intO ObliviOn.
intO yOur ObliviOn.
welcOme tO mine.
-the cunninglinguist

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