Roller Coasters VS. Ferris Wheels

My Symphony: Cartwheels / The Reindeer Section

I always preferred roller coasters to Ferris wheels.

I always thought it was better to go spiraling up and down at an irrational speed than to repetitively go around on a stabilized circular motion at an intermittent pace.

I always looked to roller coasters whenever I felt like life was boring me, or whenever I felt like people were boring me. I loved the feeling of an exciting danger and hated the idea of a stagnant safety.

I remember being in Enchanted Kingdom with my brothers and my cousins back in 2011. We went on the Ferris wheel, and there was a moment where we were stranded for about nine minutes at the top. It was hell for me. I felt so nauseous, and all I really wanted to do was get off. In fact, I was so nauseous that I almost vomited. But I was stronger than that, I thought, so I just closed my eyes, took a deep breath, swallowed my puke (yep), and promised myself never to go on the Ferris wheel ever again.

A huge part of my life had been spent obsessing over living on the edge at all times. Everyone who knows me can attest to this. I was not always this “chill”. In fact, I was the exact opposite of chill and everything else that “chill” entails. I was a daredevil, a relentless adrenaline junkie who couldn’t stop craving for adventure, even when it meant I had to look for it in all the wrong places.

And so I went on the roller coasters of life. I was way up, and then I was way down, all in a literal blink of an eye. I was screaming, and I was laughing, and I was cursing so loudly. And then in like five seconds, I was back to reality. I went from being on cloud nine to robotically forcing a can of Mountain Dew and a handful of cotton candy down my throat.

It was all amazing. It was all really, really exciting. I felt so daring, and so alive, and so invincible during all those years of my life – those roller coaster years. But it all changed. Not quickly. Not at all. It was such a gradual change of heart, that made me miss that Ferris wheel. I started to miss that feeling of starting and stopping, and then starting again, very slowly. And I started to miss being at the top for a moment, from where I could see all the lights before me, and from where I could hear the faint sound of the world around me. I missed how the Ferris wheel felt more like real life. I missed how it was slow and steady, but peaceful and romantic at the same time. It was like I just slowly stopped craving for danger and one morning I just woke up and I was okay with being still.

The meaningless acquaintances and the short-lived pleasures just didn’t satisfy me anymore. My skin somehow became numb and my soul started to take over. It wanted to be the one to feel this time. It wanted what I wasn’t giving it. It wanted authenticity, and calm, and a gentle yet powerful love. And then it hit me: the pain that comes with dangerous adventures just wasn’t worth it anymore. It hit me that excitement doesn’t have to be risky, and that stability doesn’t have to mean boredom.

I look at all the relationships I’ve had in my life – those that survived and those that didn’t – and I see a great connection to my musings; I see that in this life, you have to be able to have fun with the people you surround yourself with even in the absence of a daring adventure. Because adventure is easy. This is what I’ve come to realize. It’s super easy! All the resorts, and clubs, and destinations, and music festivals, and trains, and buses, and yachts, and everything else that involves noise, and music, and booze and fun… It’s all easy. And it’s all good. It’s all great, peachy stuff that give color to life.

But age is a very linear journey, and none of us is getting any younger. So eventually, the question shifts from “What gives life color?” to “What gives life substance?”. You eventually begin to assess your life and who’s all in it, and see who can stand you when you’re hungry and sleep-deprived. You eventually take a pause and see who makes you feel like you’re on cloud nine without even leaving your house, or your room. You begin to realize who’s there just for the party, and who’s there to stay until the morning after to help you clean up the mess. And you will finally understand, that the high you get from going on roller coaster rides is absolutely nothing compared to the high you get when you simply look into someone’s eyes and feel like you could get lost in them.

XOXO,
KENN

P.S. I’m definitely gonna re-read this write-up when I’m 55 and probably laugh at how serious I was. But it will be all good. 

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Today, I Turn Twenty-four

My Symphonies: Home / Day Wave

Wasting Time / Day Wave

Semi-rocking the guybun in 2016 (*Not a recent photo, thank god!).

So today, I turn twenty-four. 

I remember typing out almost the exact same words back in May 2013, when I wrote Today, I Turn Twenty. This time is different, though. When I turned 20, I felt a lot of uncertainty and discomfort towards aging. In fact, I used to be a self-proclaimed ageist. The mere thought of being a year older always made me feel nauseous and quite anxious. Every year, when I “celebrated” my birthday, I would always try to hide how upset I was with the fact that humans have to naturally age. I hated the concept of getting old.

But this year is different. For the first time, I actually feel very at peace with turning a year older. And not just that; I also feel very at peace with the fact that every year, everything and everyone else turns a year older. It is finally safe to say that I have come to terms with the way the world works – Things and people age; there’s nothing we can do about it.

I am writing today not just because it’s my birthday, but also because I want to acknowledge change. Change, who comes when it’s time for it to come. Change, who is the master of beauty and tragedy. Change, who is the initiator of bliss and chaos. And Change, who so effortlessly comes with aging.

When I think of my life from the beginning leading up to this point, I see it in chapters. And what’s great about chapters is that they tell us that apart from the end and the beginning of every book, there are tiny little ends and beginnings in between. And these little ends and little beginnings create something beautiful – something worth reading, worth telling and worth living. This has been my life:

The Childhood Years, when I first learned to take life one step at a time (literally); when I played in playgrounds and scratched my knee like every kid did; when I looked at grown-ups around me and wondered if I, one day, was also gonna be as big and as complex and as successful as they were; when life was a never-ending cycle of naps, tantrums, school, lunch boxes and Cartoon Network…

The High School Years, when I tackled so many things for the first time without much knowledge about life and the world I lived in; when I fell in love for the first time, got my heart broken for the first time, failed an exam for the first time, topped the class in something for the first time, made great friends and mortal enemies for the first time, and played in the field of teenage angst, romance, betrayal and overall drama for the first time; The High School Years was that one chapter that gave the first definite shape of my personality…

The University of the Philippines Years, which gets a special chapter due to the silent but steady impact it had on me. This chapter was when I learned that I can handle change (a major change) for the first time. I learned that simplicity doesn’t have to mean boring, and that modesty doesn’t have to mean defeat. I learned to take matters into my own hands, stand up for myself and carry on through the tough days without having to cry for help. This chapter was when I started to really genuinely appreciate sunsets, deep meaningful conversations and the importance of getting to know people outside of my shiny little bubble…

The Great Move, the chapter that tells of my move to Canada with my family. This, more than anything by far, has been the greatest teacher. This chapter was when I found myself in a world so different from where I grew up in. I learned so many things about other cultures especially when I was in Vancouver Film School. I learned so much about the sad realities of life, and how we all have a choice to bounce back from them. This was the chapter when I went through depression triggered by an unrequited love, and later on realized it was all just a lack of love for myself. I would say that without this chapter, I wouldn’t have been able to handle the next…

The Dark Ages, was a chapter that started out so magnificent, and so daring, and so adventure-filled and exciting. But I give it its chapter title due to the overall draining energy that surrounded it from the beginning, and more so towards the end. I fell in love with a guy that was ready to give me the world, but wasn’t ready to love me for who I am. I experienced physical abuse, verbal violence and worst of all, emotional manipulation. I learned that love isn’t enough – a relationship has to have friendship, compromises, acceptance and most importantly, respect. I learned that I am resilient, and that no matter what life was gonna throw my way after this chapter, I can absolutely handle it…

The Renaissance, cheesy, I know, but whoever said “There is light at the end of the tunnel” is hands down a genius. It’s true! Now I find myself in a place happier and brighter than anywhere I have ever been. I can definitely say that I am right where I am supposed to be in life right now, feeling exactly what I am supposed to be feeling at the moment, and being with the people whom I am most precisely supposed to be with at this chapter in my life. I am grateful for the genuine love I’ve found, blissful for the friends and family I have been blessed with, and ecstatic to take on the coming months and years of this journey called life…

I look at where I am today, and I realize that I should be happy about turning a year older. Turning a year older means I am still alive right now. I can still do whatever I want to do with my life, and go places, see new things, meet new people. Turning a year older means I have survived all the years before this; that I have embraced change time and time again, and that I have triumphed over obstacles and challenges that went my way.

Chapters. That word is subtly synonymous to “hope”, to “life”, to “change”. And today, I would like to celebrate turning a year older by thanking everyone in my life (literally EVERYONE, including those who are no longer a part of it in the present) for making me who and what I am today.

Because, girl, I’m slaying. ❤ ❤ ❤

The Boy Who Cried “Let’s Hang Out!”

My Symphony: Something Here / Day Wave

Growing up is strange in that the people you used to hang out with everyday begin to gradually but steadily diminish into faces without names, and names without faces. Hours of deep, meaningful conversations at the football field have turned into minuscule scroll-down glimpses on Facebook. Countless heart-to-hearts have deteriorated into the most casual of “what’s up’s” and “hello’s”.

Who are we? Or, I guess, the more appropriate and less ambitious question is, who were we?

We were once kids, who (without doubts or hesitation) would knock on each other’s doors at two in the morning just because. We were once kids, who unconsciously spent more time with each other than with anyone else, on a daily basis. We were kids who drank their first beers together, smoked their first cigarettes together, and lived through their first heartaches and heartbreaks together.

Perhaps friendships are just naturally more challenging as we age. Back in high school, everything was just easy. We were in the same school, in the same classes, liking the same things, sharing the same goals (mostly consisted of passing Physics and submitting our Research papers on time). Some were even living on the same street, talking about the same trends, listening to the same music. ‘Follow’ meant literally following each other around school during lunch, recess and dismissal, ‘Like’ literally meant liking each other for and despite all his/her flaws and imperfection. ‘Friends’ literally meant people you cry with one second and laugh with the next. Life was a series of sleepovers, unplanned Saturday afternoons at the mall, secrets involving crushes and mortal enemies, and the usual horsing around over fishballs and ice crumbles.

But growing up has changed all of that. Hanging out is now a super-conscious decision you have to make. You don’t just happen to be in the same vicinity with your friends all the time. A mere meet-up for coffee takes a lot of scheduling, rescheduling and compromising. Nothing is as easy as it was. Now, you actually have to really want to see someone in order for you to afford the time and energy (and sometimes money) that it takes to meet with someone.

And this is exactly why friendships in this stage of our lives are the most important: these are now the friendships we choose to have, the friendships we choose to keep; the relationships we decide are gonna progress and develop into something larger and realer as the years go by. We no longer share our deepest darkest secrets to just everyone in our circle, and in the rare event that we have a sleepover, it isn’t just high school buddies passing time anymore; it’s like-minded souls mutually sharing in each other’s worlds, exchanging thoughts and ideas, basking in the light and warmth of a presence which, although rarely present, will always be genuine. We stopped being kids hanging out, and started becoming human beings connecting.

I love you, dear friends.

P.S. Let’s not be strangers…

The 10 Most Successful Men On Earth

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Photo credit: Dwin Formaran | IG: @thedwinformaran

When we think of success, we often think of larger, wider, brighter things that are constantly seemingly out of reach. We envision stack after stack of dollar bills, glossy skyscrapers, mansions with heated pools, hundreds of paparazzi and a seven-digit pool of Instagram followers. More and more, the ways in which we measure success have been close to society’s norms but far from the truth. We have been blindly programmed to keep on dreaming with our eyes instead of dreaming with our hearts. And aren’t dreams an occurrence that takes place after we close our eyes, anyways?

If you Google “The most successful man on earth”, the first result will be a bulleted enumeration of names that are familiar to almost everyone: Bill Gates, Steve Jobs, Richard Branson and Walt Disney. Below you will find a link that invites you to see more of the article from which the enumeration was taken from. You will then be redirected to a page where you will see a larger list of people with their full names, their birth-death years and a brief description of their achievements, all cataloged under the area of industry or expertise they are/were best known for.

Now, don’t get me wrong; these people are undeniably notable, and they have achieved and invented a lot of things which have helped the world and a lot of people in many ways. This isn’t a hate mail addressed to them. They do deserve recognition, and they do deserve applause. But where it becomes worrisome is when we live our lives with the superconscious attempt to achieve as much as they have achieved, or to get as close as we can get to wherever they got to. Where it becomes ugly is when we start to view success as something that we need to work really, really hard for — when we begin to spend our days feeling somehow empty and defeated just because we do not look anything like Mark Zuckerberg’s chequing account or Kylie Jenner’s Snapchat stories.

Life is not a race, and it is definitely not a contest. Sometimes, the small things are actually the big ones, and the best things in life aren’t even things. So if you think you are not successful, have a look at this rather unorthodox list of the ten most successful men on earth…

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Photo credit: Alfred Marcial | IG: @alfredmarcial

  1. The Man Who Has Loved

It is one of the oldest stories in the world, and probably too old that it has transformed into a succinct cliche: “Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all”. It’s true! If you, at any point in your existence in this world, have felt that warm, cozy, almost-indescribable feeling in your chest when you look at someone deeply in the eyes, then consider yourself not just lucky, but successful. When we were younger, fairytales and rom-coms made us all believe that falling in love was easy. And then we grow up and learn that it doesn’t happen to everyone. True love takes courage, trust and, most importantly, friendship, and it only happens a couple of times throughout a lifetime. If you’ve ever experienced it, congratulations!

  1. The Man Who Appreciates Nature

The more you live, the sooner you realize that there’s no better place to be than right next to nature. Sunsets are more than just about days slipping into nights; they are a reminder. Blue skies are more than just nice sunny days; they are an enlightenment. Waterfalls and oceans aren’t just liquid grazing solid; they are an awakening. If you are someone who can sit still in peace as you appreciate a magnificent view of mountains, beaches, canyons and fields, congratulations!

  1. The Man Who Truly Knows His Value

The modern world dictates that we need to do this and that because if we don’t, we are deemed failures. We as a society have become restless – always looking for ways to please people, always obsessing over more Likes, more Followers, more Retweets. Life has become less about genuine connection and more about virtual recognition. Most people nowadays turn to social media for affirmation, for attention and for valuation. If you are someone who is confident and mature enough to know your own value in this world without seeking validation in all the superficial corners of the Internet, congratulations!

  1. The Man Who Can Be Moved (Literally)

There’s a reason why we do not have wires and cords attached to us: because we are human beings. And as humans, we are capable of change. We are allowed to grow, to get to know ourselves in our own ways, and to take on new life challenges that will later on help us become better individuals. We are not meant to stagnate in the same space for the rest of our lives. We are adaptable, versatile beings who are biologically designed to overcome struggles, drastic changes and overwhelming circumstances. If you are someone who welcomes change and challenges with brave and open arms, congratulations!

  1. The Man Who Can Be Moved (Figuratively)

Another reason why we do not have wires and cords attached to us: we aren’t robots. We are allowed to feel. We are allowed to cry, to laugh, to smile, to frown, to feel like we’re on top of the world one minute and in the deepest, darkest depths of hell the next. We are emotionally mobile creatures. If you are someone who can encounter a piece of art (a painting, a film, a writing, a song, et cetera) and be greatly moved by it, congratulations!

  1. The Man Who Knows Kindness

It is absolutely scary to think that kindness is fast becoming a sort of an “endangered” virtue. It is also something that people think can be translated to a couple of nickels and dimes given to a street beggar every other week. Kindness is more than just the act of giving someone something of your possession; it is about empathy and compassion. When somebody is down, miserable and lonely, and you (despite your hectic schedule) decide to be there for them to comfort them, support them and encourage them? That’s kindness. If you’ve ever been there for someone during tough times, congratulations!

  1. The Man Who Is Present

These days, it is too common to see people everywhere looking down at their smartphones and tablets that in the mega rare instance that you see someone who’s not, you think apocalypse just arrived and you have less than ten seconds to have your final look at everything around you before you vanish into the vast unknown. It’s nuts! Genuine eye-to-eye conversations have now turned into mouths speaking to each other with eyes staring directly down at separate screens. Most people just aren’t present in the present anymore. They are somewhere else all the time, scrolling, sharing, liking and commenting. If you are someone who knows the value of a moment enough to put your phone away and see someone clearly in front of you as you speak, congratulations!

  1. The Man Who Isn’t Friendless

Friendship is one of those words that have gained traction but lost meaning. In reality, friendship, just like love, is a rare thing. Companionship happens a lot, and so does affiliation. But real, long-lasting friendships are rare. Friends are the people whom you can count on especially in times of emotional distress, and they are also whom you can count on in times of complete fun and randomness. Friends offer a type of love and care that you cannot feel from other people, and they are often the people who have seen you in your best and your worst. So if you have a solid circle of people whom you call friends (regardless of how big or small that circle is), congratulations!

  1. The Man Who Does What He Loves

Life is too short to do something that you do not enjoy doing. However, life is also not that simple. There are bills to pay, and not everyone gets the chance or the opportunity to do exactly what they love to do in a professional setting. A lot of people who love dancing work in banks; some who are passionate about painting work in sawmills; others who are very talented at singing work in hotels as housekeeping attendants. The list goes on. But let’s take a moment to appreciate the guy who changes from slacks to sweatpants to join dance rehearsals after his 5-PM end-of-shift at the bank. Let us appreciate the girl who vacuums floors and washes sheets at hotels so she can afford singing lessons. Let us appreciate the people who keep on painting despite their already-tired hands from working so hard in sawmills. If you are someone who may not be loving what you’re doing professionally but still finds ways to do what you love, congratulations!

  1. The Man Who Has Connected To Another Man (Or Woman) In A Genuine, Penetrating, Effervescent Way

This is probably one of the greatest successes one can experience in his lifetime: to feel a great connection between you and somebody else. If you come to think about it, this life we live is full of complications. There are more than seven billion people on this planet, and we are all just trying to live our lives the way we know how to live them. And we do get moments of joy and clarity, but there will always be nights when we hit our beds after a long day at school or at work and feel that something is missing; that something isn’t right. So when we happen to cross paths with someone who just “gets us”, someone who lights up our day just by existing, someone who literally finishes our sentences and someone who speaks to us without saying a word, we hold on to them. Because we know that genuine connections don’t happen everyday. If you are someone who knows somebody whom you feel that electric chemistry with, CONGRATULATIONS!

The Effervescent Flair Of My Peter Pan Love Affair

My Symphony: Magic / Colbie Caillat 

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Sometimes, life gets too hectic that I forget how quickly things can change at any given moment. One minute you are so deeply in love with someone with everything that your heart could possibly give, and the next, you are broken up with that person. Your eyes are red and puffy from crying yourself to sleep three nights in a row, and all you really want to do is disappear for a solid month or so just to give yourself ample amount of time to heal.

But when it gets really interesting is not in the beginning nor the end. Just like with all of this world’s greatest stories, the juiciest part is in the details – in the middle of everything. When it gets really amazing and worthwhile is in the little moments that make up this large, exhilarating mental collage of love, life and everything in between.

I am at the point in my life where I am no longer a kid, but also very far from being an adult. I am in this blank emotional space that puts me in a tight spot between wanting to settle down with someone, and wanting to explore the world around me. Given my restlessness, my occasional histrionic antics and my constant indecision, being in this space hasn’t been easy. I have to admit I have always felt like I am on the edge of a precipice, just letting the wind cradle me back and forth, waiting for life to happen.

And then, out of nowhere, I find myself in a completely different place. Quite magical, very surreal, somehow scary but nonetheless invigorating. What do I mean by this? Well, you know that feeling when you were a kid and your parents brought you to the candy store? That has been me lately. I feel like a little kid in a candy store just completely overjoyed upon the sight and the scent of sweet treats right in front of me.

In this case, though (partly because I am 23, and partly because I have outgrown candies), my source of joy has been a boy – a boy who has gotten me on a sugar rush that never ends, inside a candy store that sells no candies.

I honestly never thought that love could be this simple. I guess maybe that’s why young love is so special. Unlike mature love (a.k.a. the rational type of love), young love is straightforward. It is fearless, it is bold, and it is so many kinds of wrong in all the right ways. And if it were up to me, I would continue giving my heart to people as if I had never gotten my heart broken before.

With you, I feel like my young self again. You make me fall without fearing getting hurt in the process (because it is inevitable, anyways). You make me want to take miscalculated risks, because we know those are the only risks we’re not going to regret having had taken by the time we get older.

Instead of settling down with you, I want to take it off with you. I want to go places, see other cultures, learn languages and embrace every single living thing a little tighter than I already do. You inspire me to grow, but not necessarily grow up. And it’s a good thing. It means that you keep me centered, but just enough so the tip of my toes can still reach out to the sides and feel the edges. You make me fearless, and you ground me just enough so I can eventually be catapulted into action.

Whenever you kiss me, I do not feel owned; I just feel loved. I do not think about the logical side to kissing whenever our lips meet. In fact, whenever our lips meet, I do not think at all. I do not have to worry about the next move, or how I am going to slide my lower lip and press it against the tip of your chin after I bite your tongue casually. I just let go.

Even hugging you is playful in the most romantic way. The second our bodies meet, I melt into yours and you melt into mine. There is nothing complicated about it. Just two bodies with like-minded souls coming in contact. I think it’s beautiful.

When we talk, we do not have to compete or make the effort to sound smarter than the other, because being smart or not is not the point. Conversations in this young love are filled with ideas, unfiltered thoughts and realities, and the sheer pleasure of learning more about each other, one verbal paragraph at a time.

At night, when I go to bed, I feel like I am sleeping right next to my bestfriend. There is no heavy emotional stuff to discuss before bedtime, so we talk aimlessly and then we laugh. And then we laugh a little more until we find our eyelids getting heavier with exhaustion. And then we fall into slumber. That simple.

I hear your name and butterflies fill my stomach. I see you and I instantly become giddy. It is love we have, but it never has to be overly complex and dramatic. It is love, but I still have a crush on you. It is love, but you still somehow make me speechless and occasionally stumble on my words. It is love, but you give me momentary speech impediments.

We are young, and what we have is definitely young love. And I like that.

I like that our normal is other people’s crazy. I like that we have allowed ourselves to fall for each other without thinking of any consequences. I like that we get to be lovers and friends at the same time and build each other up without even trying. And I like that, even just for now, I get to spend my life with someone so alive, so pure, so amazing. Someone who definitely makes any ride worthwhile.

We are young, and we have so much more to learn. But, boy, I have decided. You are one of the rare ones. And I am keeping you in my life forever, no matter where this zigzagging road called life will take us.

Afterall, little boys can never be sad inside a candy store. 🙂

The Most Phenomenal Fact

My Symphonies: 

  • Chandelier / Sia
  • Collapse / Vancouver Sleep Clinic
  • Flaws / Vancouver Sleep Clinic
  • Poison&Wine / The Civil Wars
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Kenn Edward Tenorio. 22 and notoriously crazy.

You know what the most phenomenal fact is? The most phenomenal fact in my life and in the world that I live in? The most phenomenal fact about everything and everyone that I have ever crossed paths with?

The most phenomenal fact, ladies and gentlemen, is that I am right now sitting here and  writing to you with the knowledge that when it comes down to it, this life is my own and that there’s no one else to be thanked or blamed. It is the knowledge that time is ticking away like a madman with every breath that I take; the knowledge that I am tiny and enormous at the same time, because of how the universe and this planet came to be billions of years ago. It is the knowledge that a day will come when none of this will really matter. Do you know how depressing and brilliantly liberating that is? To know that you can write and express your raw thoughts and articulate your raw emotions to a blank space without having to worry about the great future significance of whatever the hell it is that you are writing? Let me tell you: it’s motherfucking great.

You know how in movies the main character starts narrating his story through a voice-over while the opening credits are being flashed on the screen? That’s kind of how I feel right now. I feel like my life is on its opening credits, and here I am talking to an inanimate object so that people will later on hear what I have to say. I think it’s one part of being a writer. A lot of great writers in the history of literature didn’t get to see their work earn millions of dollars and millions of readers because they passed away before that happened. It’s depressing and also wonderful, I think. And I’m not saying that I am the next Sylvia Plath or Ernest Hemingway, I’m just saying that I am a fucking boy living in this sort of fucked-up but somehow amazing planet, and I am feeling somewhere in between alive and dying at the moment.

I am not naive, and I am not dumb. Well, sometimes I act like I am. Well, most of the time, actually. It’s actually like a form of self-entertainment for me. But I’m not naive or dumb. I know that I am often lost, and people always feel the need to put some sense into my head. You know what, let me tell you something rather explosive:

I am notoriously crazy, in the fiercest sense of the word. I am a lot of things, and people know that. For starters, I hate society. I’ve always been a nonconformist, but it’s not because I wanna stand out. In fact, the major reason why I hate society is that I know that it doesn’t exist. Society is a state of mind. It’s not like someone just woke up one day and decided he was gonna invent society and then Hello, bitches! Here I am! Yours Truly, Society xoxoxo! No. Nobody just simply got bored one morning and thought of ways to create society. Society is really all in the mind, and I am aware that as long as I hate society, I am self-injecting its existence into my life. It’s almost like acknowledging the fact that it is still somehow stronger than I am.

So in a way, going against “society” is like battling my own demons inside of me. It’s like telling that part of your thoughts that you don’t enjoy to get the hell out and go fuck itself. And I’m telling you, it’s not easy.

It’s not easy to have to walk along the streets and exchange hi’s and hello’s with people who may or may not be aware of the same things that you are aware of. I mean, I am not judging anyone. We are all different because had we all been similar to each other, the world wouldn’t be as alive and interesting as it is right now. We all make up this kaleidoscopic world, where each of us plays his or her role in the affairs of the universe. So it’s not that I want people to think the way I do, it’s simply that I wanna be heard. Sometimes. Like today.

All I’m saying is, there are so many facets to me that not a lot of people understand.

I am the friend they love to hate. Because I am so unapologetically expressive, and I am loud, and I am outgoing, and I am unpredictable, and I am hyperactive and sometimes unreasonably enthusiastic. And I do things that they take as an insult simply because we do not all share the same values and priorities. Sometimes I do things that I believe are fun but are already grave and derogatory for some people.

I am the whiny misunderstood bitch who’s lazy and erratic like hell. Because that’s just how I am. I am honestly either the best or the worst companion. I don’t do anything half-ass, and I think that I have established that. I like extremes, and I really just live in the moment. I am ill. I can be vindictive and irrational. I can be very over-the-top with anything that I do. I piss people off, and it’s usually the people I am truly close with. Because when I am really close with someone, I tend to show them all parts of me. I don’t spare them the gory details. Why should I? Do you have any idea how rare it is to find real friends nowadays? Real lovers? even understanding family members? Let me tell you, it’s effing hard. So when you know for a fact that this or that person gets you, and you feel like you’ve both connected to that point where you can share anything with them, even your deepest darkest secrets? You let loose. You let go, and then you explode. You let them watch your lava pouring and skyrocketing all over the place. I don’t know about you, but I like to think of every day as the last day I get. That’s why I love the extremes. I always try my hardest to live on the edge because really, there’s no other place I’d rather live but on the highway and the fast lanes of my own little world. People always say things like, oh my gosh I can’t wait for my bucket list to get crossed out entirely. Or Someday, I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna fuck this shit and live the life that I want to live. Or Someday, my life will be great. Not today, nope. But someday, I am gonna be fucking rich/famous/significant. Someday I’m gonna change the world. Someday I am gonna meet the man of my dreams and I am gonna marry the fuck out of him. Because someday I am so gonna be in love that none of the gods can do anything about it. Someday I am gonna be happy. Someday I am gonna get a dog and walk him in the park where I can say that hey, I have a stable 9-5 job and I have a 6-digit income, so look at me being so fly at the park walking my super expensive dog along with the other stable people here. Like, one day, I am gonna be living my dream. I am gonna be an inspiration to others one day. Maybe next year, I’ll go on a trip to Rio where I can finally go crazy and be myself without being judged like I do in my tiny little hometown. Maybe next month, I can finally do this and that. And maybe, in the next decade or so, I can finally go on a hot-air balloon ride in light of my Bucket List Crossing Out Event.

Fuck.

It’s always Someday. That Someday, I tell you. Damn. It’s your worst enemy. Does anyone else out there wonder deeply about this sick obsession of people about the future?

Look at your friends. Look at your lovers. Your family. Your brothers, sisters, your batchmates in high school, in elementary, your workmates, your boss. Your community leaders. Et freaking cetera…. Everyone is so attached to this idea that someday, life will be good. The idea that someday, all of the hardwork and the sacrifices and the endless burning of the midnight oil will finally pay off. A bright motherfucking future. That’ what everyone cares about these days.

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In beauty pageants, one question that never goes out of style is this:

If there is one thing you could change about the world, what would it be and why?

I’m telling you, one day I’m gonna join the fucking Miss Universe just so I get the chance to be asked that question and I will say (and no I won’t be giving any amount of fucks about the time limit or how the crowd’s gonna react or if they shut the cameras down, coz I’m just gonna explode):

Thank you for that wonderful question, Ms. Someone Who Is Supposed to be Worldly Significant Enough For Me To Shake Out of Nervousness Because It’s Supposed to be a Big Deal. 🙂 (of course, I’ll be smiling the entire time because that’s how a Miss Universe contestant should act, right? They should always be skinny and smiling, as if representing the universe is all about that.) If there is one thing that I could change about the world, it would be the way humanity worships the future. Like honestly, that’s the only thing I would like to change about this world. I just wish we could all give less of a damn about what the eff will happen next month, next year, or 5 years later. Why is it always about the future? You always hear “Someday, I will be happy” but you never really hear someone saying “Right now, I am happy. This is great. This is amazing. I feel alive”. Tell me you hear or read that across social media sites on a daily basis and I’ll be the first bitch to axe-kick you across the face to wake you the fuck up. Because nobody says that. Nobody believes in the present anymore, when it’s technically the ONLY thing that we are certain about. Why can’t the HERE and NOW be amazing? Why does it always have to be a trip around the world  or a job promotion or money that will make you happy? And why does it always have to be SOMEDAY? I’m sick of that word, actually. Someday is the worst scammer you will ever encounter in your life. Sure, you can choose to believe so tightly in the future, but what if none of what is on your bucket list happens? What? You’re never gonna be happy then? That you’re gonna die sad and miserable because you didn’t get to do all those fancy things that you were once so sure were gonna happen? I mean seriously, ladies and gents. Look around you. You are all breathing and you all have a reason to believe that right now is the best time to live, because this is the current time that we are in. For a change, try focusing on the now. I don’t know about you, but now is lovely. Now is beautiful. Now is birds chirping, now is oceans running deep, now is breathing and caring and dancing and loving. Now is friendships that are flourishing, now is rivers rushing. Now is fireworks and parachutes and gummy bears and pugs. Someday isn’t the time. NOW is the time. Now is literally the only time that you are alive. Okay? And yes, three servings of STL for me at the backstage after this please, thankyouverymuch!

And you know what else? 

The most phenomenal fact is that I get to live these days with you even when I know that we aren’t meant to be together. Look at me. And then look at you. We are two different people with ideals sitting on the opposite ends of the spectrum.

I am happy, though. You know I always am when I am with you. It’s kind of hard to rationalize what we have because everyone knows that what we have is anything but rational. But you know what? I am fucking grateful. Being with you has taught me a great deal about myself and about love. Being with you has made me look at the tiniest of things and feel like I can still hold on to them. Being with you has proven that even air and water can make a wonderful harmony at one point… even just at one point. Remember that night I told you that this is the kind of love that can kill us? The kind of love that can bleed and maybe never heal? I meant that. I realize that in this crazy world, it is possible for two people to have a connection so strong and so real that no amount of hardcore differences and hardcore battles can make them let go so easily. When two people have a really strong bond, it takes more than just a heated argument or a Bible-thick list of differences to make them realize that they should let go. And that’s what it’s like with you…

We make hurricanes, thunders, lightnings and earthquakes, but I love that.

I love that for now, I get to kiss you good-night and see your lazy face in the mornings. I love that for now, when I look into your eyes, I still see the you I fell in love with. I love that for now, I get to hug you and smell your natural scent right down your neck. I love that I get to laugh with you, and smile with you over the stupidest things. I love that I still get to reach for your hand in the dark and feel them open up, like a flower in the dawn of Spring. And I love that for now, you are mine and I am yours, and in this little tiny world of Here and Now that I built inside my head, we are forever. I know that forever doesn’t exist in the long run, but it does exist in the present. That’s how I feel, and that’s how I have been feeling with you… Call me crazy, but I am glad I am. Because if I weren’t, I wouldn’t be here… I wouldn’t  be here breathing the same air as you. And I probably wouldn’t be the one you gave your heart to at this point in your life.

Your mouth is the mouth that says the harshest things to me, and the same mouth that kisses me.

Your eyes are the eyes that look down on me, and the same eyes that say how much I’m loved.

Your hands are the hands that brutally give me bruises, and the same hands that delicately hold mine.

Your arms are the arms that push me away, and the same arms that keep me close to your chest at night.

Your mind is the mind that doubts me, that hates me, that kills me. And the same mind that believes in me, that loves me, that thinks I’m alive.

And if that Someday will come when you think you’ve had enough of this plethora of mess that is myself, and you decide to let go, know that I truly do love you. You know how I know that? Because I’ve always known this was irrational, but it never mattered. I genuinely didn’t give a single heck about how messy, and how irrational, and how crazy this was because for once, I wanted to experience how it really is to FALL. How it really is to love someone not for the good times, but for the whole package – the good, the bad, the ugly and the brutally grotesque.

I know we do not have a tomorrow, but today is still here. And I am here while it lasts, my love.

The most phenomenal fact is that I don’t love you, but I always will………………… 

The Thing About Him

My Symphonies:

  • Sweater Weather / The Neighbourhood
  • West Coast / Lana Del Rey
  • “Antichrist” / The 1975

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The thing about him is that he’s different. Yes, he came out of his mother’s womb, spilled milk from the baby bottle, scratched his knee, bruised his elbow and went through puberty like all the other biological boys out there, but he’s different. He’s different in the way that he dresses. You can always see him wearing a rather uptight outfit, but look closer and you’ll find that he leaves the most part of his shirt unbottoned; his pants are fairly tight, but he moves with such freedom. And his shoes – you might have seen the same pair in a nearby local store, but the places those shoes have kissed are places you can only imagine in one of your daydreams. He’s different in the way that he talks to people. Unlike the general Western Civilization population, he doesn’t like small talks. In fact, he detests them. He’s different in that he considers a meaningful, honest conversation as a form of sacred privilege – almost like an encounter with God. He believes that a genuine connection between two human beings is the closest thing we’ve come to infinity. Also, he’s different in the way that he loves. He doesn’t want to know what job you have or how much money you make; he wants to know what you bleed for, what you cringe for, what it is that makes you vulnerable. He couldn’t care less about how many virtual friends you have, but it matters to him how many lives you’ve touched, how many nights you’ve survived aching, how many rocks you dodged to still be breathing at this very minute. Sometimes you will be tempted to show him your best side, your pretty side – the kind of filtered version of people that they post on Facebook, or Twitter – the perfect side. But you will soon find that you’ve just committed a fatal act by choosing to show him the perfect side of you all the time. Because he’s not into that. He’s different in that he’d rather gaze at an ugly face with a fat, broken, suffering real heart than a made up Barbie-like mannequin with no soul. In a world such as ours, it may be difficult to comprehend, but he falls in love with you each time you slip, stumble or fall. He falls in love with you each time you accidentally bump your head into the glass door, or spill your morning coffee all over your work shirt, or bite your tongue while you’re eating your dinner, or something. He falls for you, and he falls for you not because of how beautiful you are but because of how your ugliness translates to him as beautiful.

The thing about him is that he likes to moan. No, not always in the sexual way, but actually in the soulful way. He likes it when his heart is being crushed, because that only means that it still operates. In one of your fights or one of your arguments, he will smile a little inside when he sees that you are aching because to him, aching is equivalent to a heart that still cares and a life that still moves. Dead people don’t ache, he figures, and so seeing you feel pain is important to him. The thing is that he’d be damned to lock his hands with someone who is allergic to pain, allergic to chaos. Because to him, what is love without a little tragedy? It is pure pretense. Show him your soul, because by now he has probably started to get naked in front of you.

The thing about him is that he always falls in love with artists. More so with the art, actually, not so much with the people. He looks at a drawing, a painting, or watches a film or a play or a dance routine, and the wheels inside his head just starts turning. He listens to a song and without even noticing, bleeds from his chest down to the floor because he has just been shot with an introspective arrow. If you ever take the time to sing to him, for example; it wouldn’t matter if you didn’t have a Celine Dion kind of voice – you will be able to move mountains inside his world because an art, to him, is the most perfect act of imperfection. It is perhaps his occasional fuel to go on with life, and maybe to go on with you. So he needs art. He needs your art.

The thing about him is that he is addicted to the idea of life being an ephemeral gift that he has to savor, in every way that he possibly can. For him, it is better to be totally ridiculous than be totally boring. Sure, he is dramatic, but he is alive. And the thing is that you’re gonna wanna change him – someday, somehow. You’re gonna wanna fix him because he looks broken; he looks like he needs saving. There will be days when you start to wonder how someone can be so fucked up, so locked up in darkness and pure chaos. You will begin to count ways to get to him and put some sense into his head. And this is the thing about him that you will eventually learn along the process: He just sucks at long-term planning. And he hates making “big life decisions” that should “define his future”. He just hates it. But what can he do? He is not what people want him to be, and probably not what you what him to be. He likes to dance in the rain (literally), talk loud, laugh boisterously and sometimes get a little too drunk and a little too high. He likes to talk to random strangers that may or may not be dangerous, go to places he’s never been, sing at the top of his lungs in the sky train and maybe even scratch his knees over and over again like he did when he was in pre-school. This is what he is made of – life experiences taken in large doses. The thing about him is that he’d rather run, fly and whirl through life like a blind hurricane than carefully walk through it within the bounds of some sort of a Life Instruction Book. He hates guidelines, and he hates rules, and he hates standards. He does not believe in any of that crap. But this doesn’t mean that he is a bad, or a weak, or a broken person. This just means that he is his own person – an individual existing in this planet solely as an individual, working his best not to be filtered by society. His main goal in life has always been to become a beach bum one day, when he is strong enough and alive enough to finally commit to that goal. Yes. He’d rather live by the beach and dance and drink all day with friends and loved ones with the view of the sunset every 5:30PM. In the evenings at the beach, he will be gazing straight into a bonfire and he’ll be looking at the stars above him, listening to his heartbeat. And he will smile. That will be the most authentic defining moment of success according to his watch. This is him, and people always fail to understand that. You will fail to understand that. But he has given up on hoping that anyone will truly understand, because that’s not what this is about for him. It’s about being. Simply being. And that, to him, is beautifully liberating.

The thing about him is that he is a nonbeliever of the future. To him, the future is the biggest deception in all of this universe. If you come to think about it, this thing we call future is really just an illusion until you wake up one morning and it has turned into the present. But until then, the future does not exist. It is a propaganda. And he knows this. He has seen people suffer, lovers break, families part ways and lives shatter because people took for granted a million moments in their lives, all because they had assumed there would be a million more. Live with him in the moment. It is completely okay to want to have a future with him, and to build a life with him, but do not hurt him, or leave him, or take him for granted today just because you want to be happy with him tomorrow. Today is pretty much the only world he lives in. He is in there, right now. With you. Grab him by the waist and kiss him.

Kiss the fuck out of him. 

Most importantly, out of all of the many things about him, know this:

He is not perfect. But neither are you. If you are exclusively looking for the Prince Charming type of guy, he is probably not the one for you. He won’t be your Knight In Shining Armor, or the eye candy stud riding on the White Horse to come and sweep you off your feet and lead you to a castle of riches and pure joy. That is not how it works with him, and actually with love. You will both have mad days, poor days, days like hell and days when you would wanna just disappear. He will drive you crazy, and he will hurt you. He loves you, yes. But he will hurt you. He promises to all of the gods that he will continue to hurt you, because he is imperfect to a fault. But so will you. And that doesn’t mean that you both do not love each other; it just means that you love each other strongly and deeply enough to bother with hurting and to bother with being hurt. You love each other to the point of grief and tears. One morning, at around 5AM, just when the sun is about to rise, you will stare at him while he is fast asleep, and you’re gonna think of how much time you’ve wasted living with him. You will think of the wasted hours and days and months being with such a broken person – too broken a person you could see cracks in his eyes when you hold your gaze a little longer. But those cracks are cracks that he himself had made. He purposefully put them there, so that you will have something to look through, so that you can see him beyond his physical appearance. The cracks are there not so you can fix him, but so you can have more room for your hands to take grip on him, to hold on to him.

He is not perfect, but he will give you a part of him that he knows you could break. And as much as he promises that there will be bad days, he also promises that there will be good days. And you will live to see those days only when you stick around long enough. For him and for the universe, love isn’t a one-track album. You don’t get to listen to just one happy song all the time, you get the whole package. You get like three thousand other songs that come with the album. How neat is that?

So perhaps despite all this, the only thing about him that you must learn is that he is who he is. Good and bad, ugly and handsome, proper and inappropriate. He is both the night and the morning, the cave and the great outdoors, the shot of tequila and the mug of green tea. He is a poem. 

That is the thing about him.

“We’re all seeking that special person who is right for us. But if you’ve been through enough relationships, you begin to suspect there’s no right person, just different flavors of wrong. Why is this? Because you yourself are wrong in some way, and you seek out partners who are wrong in some complementary way. But it takes a lot of living to grow fully into your own wrongness. And it isn’t until you finally run up against your deepest demons, your unsolvable problems—the ones that make you truly who you are—that we’re ready to find a lifelong mate. Only then do you finally know what you’re looking for. You’re looking for the wrong person. But not just any wrong person: the right wrong person—someone you lovingly gaze upon and think, “This is the problem I want to have.”

I will find that special person who is wrong for me in just the right way.

Let our scars fall in love.” (Andrew Boyd)