From Ms. Merlinda Bobis’ novel: Fish Hair Woman
Ang lahat ng ito ay pagsubok lamang, kinabukasan agad malilimutan.
Pakikibaka ang mahalaga, ituloy ang aklasan.
Hindi pa katapusan ng mundo.
yes it is not the end of the world.
If it’s not going to happen then stop wasting your time for nothing.
Get back up, brush off the dirt, learn to walk away
But never forget.
“I don’t know how we got into this state again, but I just really want to get this off my chest because I can’t fucking sleep right now.
I miss you Anthony. So much.
And I don’t know if you’re pushing me away again or if you just don’t really care. But you know what, I can’t really do anything about it because I’ve tried and yet there’s nothing. Now I told you what I have been holding back for the past couple of months and I don’t know what to do anymore”
I would’ve wanted to say those things to you, but right now I am so confused.
It’s the normal story you see in movies, boy meets girl, boy likes girl and then after a few months, the girl starts to feel the same way. Amazingly, you somehow managed to divert the story line and lead it to a different plot.
You tell me you like me then I told you I felt the same way.
I started to reach out to you, but then you pushed me away.
I went on with my life and tried to forget now you come back and tell me what you regret.
Now I’m stuck between someone new and someone I knew.
You told me it was my choice, but what I really wanted was you.
You left me with a kiss on my forehead while you wrapped me in your arms.
I thought I was doing the right thing and that it would mean me no harm.
But then you started ignoring me; you started running away.
It crushed me to pieces and left me astray.
Because of you I built a wall, much stronger than before.
Now I wonder if you do come back, will it stay strong after all?
It feels like I’ve been staring at a picture for quite some time.
Could it still be the same me? the same us?
I used to have a different smile. A different laugh.
Changes. Yes it has concealed every part of me that once distinguished the person whom I was before.
Is it too late to go back?
For months, I’ve been longing for the safe haven I once called home.
But I stuck to what I believed was right.
Walk forward and never look back.
Now I’m slowly realizing that I’ve lost a part of me somewhere in this long road journey.
And only have I finally understood that I will never be complete until I trace my steps back.
Now I’m asking you,
Is it too late?
September 28, 2011
When I had my first major panic attack. I didn’t know what was wrong with me. My hands and feet were too numb to operate properly, my chest tightened so hard I couldn’t breath and my head felt like it was being screwed over and over again.
All I can remember from that night was that I had a phone clutched in my right hand placed near my ear. I was listening to a voice at the other end as I tried to steady myself at the edge of my bed.
Everything was filled with tears; my eyes, my face, my words…everything was a blur.
One thing was clear: The voice.
It was telling me to breathe slowly and simply concentrate on the sound I hear. I stopped myself from talking and blabbering further. Kept my mouth shut as much as possible trying to minimize the sound coming from my uneven breaths and sobs.
——————-
I’ve had several panic attacks before. A few of them I still remember. Snippets of memories in my head:
Inside the car, I sat in the back seat alone listening to his voice getting louder and angrier. I remember looking at the mirror and it was as if his eyes were eating my whole soul.
Then another one appears, I was having dinner in a room we shared, he entered the door throwing everything in sight. Stomping his feet and slapping the concrete wall. I just stared at him. Tears.
Tears began to fall.
Now I’m back in the very same place I was a while ago before everything started to fade.
He approached me interrupting my task at hand. He raised his voice, starting yet another argument. But this time, I reasoned out. And I shouldn’t have. Because it was stupid of me to think I had a right to let my voice be heard. I would never win…because he would have let me.
Two mistakes.
Two mistakes were all it took for him to be blow me up into pieces.
Two mistakes were all it took for him to crush me inside and ruin what little was left of who I was or remained to be.
The phone rings and I took it from the table and ran.
I ran away from him, I ran away from the tears, I ran away from the pain. But I could not escape the heaviness of what was building up inside me.
So much has been covered and hidden inside.
The numbness slowly catching up. The tears starting to create a blur in my vision. The pain. Oh it was the worst.
I forced myself to move barely keeping my balance. Found a room to hide. To hide in safety and succumb to the darkness that the room contained.
——————–
I am still listening. I catch a few phrases and get caught up in some other thought.
Words are running in my head. I cannot breathe properly. This does not make sense.
“YOU WILL NEVER BE ENOUGH” I will never be enough, I repeat in my head.
His words were so strong, not even the voice could pull me back to sanity.
The phone drops from my hand unable to fight against the numbness forcing my palm to close.
I am tired.
Of everything.
I do not want to leave.
Although it is an option.
My eyes start to close.
They say eternal sleep is was heaven feels like; peaceful.
But sad to say, I woke up.
And I never once talked again.
Something happened inside me that night.
All I know is something used to be there before and now it doesn’t exist.
Warm water trickling down your face.
Mist appears on the glass.
A blurred figure standing
With its head bent down and fists slammed at the wall.
You try to utter the words you were meant to say,
but only muffled sobs managed to escape.
In a few minutes or so you’d have to stop this facade
but you’d rather stay here as long as it takes.
Why is it of all the places set out in the world
the feeling of being trapped is non existent here.
But with the decision you are about to make
it’s as if you don’t have any other choice.
You close your eyes,
rocking yourself back and forth.
Trying to say awake, trying to stay sane
but isn’t it a little too late?
You never intended to push through
but there’s no such thing as going back.
You hold the side for support; gripping the curtain on your other hand.
You shut off the running water unready for what’s to come.
With the towel wrapped around you;
you force yourself to move
outside the glass of protection.
Trying to conquer what awaits.
Your fate lies behind those doors
but it’s something you’d rather not face
knowing there might not be a chance
to come back to these walls that made you feel safe.
Having heard your voice yesterday night
I know I shouldn’t miss you
Having talked for 8 hours non stop
I know I shouldn’t have more to say
Ten minutes before five
nothing seems to work
I’ve tried music, I’ve tried milk
but countless of thoughts still rush through
So many hours we’ve spent talking
but it never seems to be enough (for some reason)
and every night that I stay up late
I yearn to hear your voice even more
I wonder what it would be like
to wake you up at 3 and call you outside
Sneaking out of our houses
Pushing our curfew for a long night ride
I scroll through my diary
asking myself if I’d ever get the chance
to show you or tell you
who I was before we met
I swear, I feel like I’ve gone bonkers
because this is something I haven’t felt (for quite a while)
would you promise to be careful
if I told you I’ve fallen for your smile?
I forgot how comforting it feels to listen to the radio while on a road trip.
How every song, if not reminds you of something, makes you enter the magical realm As if to say you are in a trance of a never ending breathtaking feeling.
Called freedom.
Miles and miles
You continue to draw closer to your destination.
…not wanting to move from where you’re sitting.
…desperately wishing for the song not to reach its final notes
…grasping the edge of your seat as you wait for the road to end.
Sweaty palms. Uneven breaths…You clutch the strap of your yellow tote bag wondering if this uneasiness accounts for the thoughts of this dreadful being inside of you.
The car makes a turn to a familiar street;
Your stop.
A nagging feeling demands you to jump out of the vehicle but your feet remain planted on the gray floor mat.
There it is coming back to you.
Something you’ve been trying to escape for years; solely unveiling what’s left of the journey…
Home.
“J.M? Like this?” I watched as his fingers wrapped on a pen moved smoothly on the crisp white paper.
“Yes like that except with a couple of curls and twists at the end of both letters.”
“Oh. You mean like those fonts they used in the 50’s”
“YES. EXACTLY!” Thank God he finally got what I was saying.
“Why didn’t you say so?”. He chuckled. “What’s this about anyway?” He said eyeing me.
“It’s just some ancient juju that belonged to my grandfather?”
“Hmm. I don’t see any reason why you’d sell it, what is it for?”
He tilted his head waiting for my response.
Honestly I didn’t know what I was thinking at that time, the words just fell out of my mouth.
” I want…to change the world.”
At first I thought he was going to laugh at me but he inched closer and stared deep into my eyes.
He didn’t blink. He didn’t roll his eyes. He didn’t even ask why.
All he said was, “‘are you sure enough that you’re ready to do that?”
I nodded. And all it took was a split second for him to nod back and walk away.
I watched him as his feet slowly brought him farther and farther from where I was.
I heard the click of a door knob opening and the sounds from outside rushing in.
He stopped before entirely closing the door.
“Before I forget…” he said as he threw a black tape like thing.
I caught it with my left hand barely recognizing what this object was or its use.
I looked at him, baffled by what I held in my hand and its significance to my goal.
He nodded encouragingly.
I looked at it again, studying its features. Of course. How can I be so stupid?
Ink.
And everything just clicked together.
He believed in me.
No need for words.
I look at him and smiled. He got it all along.
What is the use of a typewriter without ink?
It would be like pouring out your heart into the pages of unseen beauty which only you can comprehend.
I never saw him again.
But I still try to visit the house often to check if he left something…a clue or sheets of paper perhaps..but nothing. Never again did he come back.
The last time I felt the most sure of his existence was three days after he left the house.
June 30.
Beside me lay the most fragile object that my heart has been searching for all these years.
Though people doubted my capability and questioned me most of the time,
I kept writing.
Today they would still ask me:
What do you even plan to do?
Why on earth are you doing this?
What made you think that you’d be different?
And I look at each one of them and say the same thing over and over again,
If you had the chance to change the world, wouldn’t you?
No questions asked.
We all want the same thing.
Somebody just has to have the courage to start.
Her hands are shaking.
She stares at them intently
Trying to deny the turmoil of emotions that goes about inside her body
She questions her worth, her contributions and even her mere existence.
What has become of her?
Standing in front of a mirror; she looks away.
See how her eyes avoid the figure in front of her.
See how she cannot bare to take a look.
See how she clenches her fists.
Fists that are tempted to shatter the fragile glass
Notice how her frail looking body slowly inches its way to a corner
Her eyes are unable to remain in one area.
Her mind alone cannot carry all these thoughts.
She bangs her head continuously.
It’s as if she lost control of sanity.
She closes her eyes hoping to dilute the stabbing pain
But life showed no mercy
All the burden and negativity poured rapidly
Into what little space she had left inside her head
Her mind shuts down.
And like a schizophrenic person
She began to hallucinate.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Footsteps. Each at their own pace.
People started passing by.
One by one they looked at her.
Judged her.
All eyes fixated on her.
The cruel attention they gave
Provoked her system from further breaking into pieces
Eyes tightly closed.
Heavy uneven breaths.
Uncontrollable shaking.
Numbness all over her body.
No one knew
Her thoughts, her fears, her insecurities
few dared to ask.
No one was patient enough to listen…
They never understood.
Nor did any of them try to.
She knows someone out there will.
Someday, perhaps in the near future
Because that’s what everybody says
‘That’s okay, you needn’t be wary. That person is probably out there. You’ll just have to wait and see’
That’s what everybody says. That’s what everybody believes in
And she asks,
How come a lot of people take their lives every day?
If that person exists, shouldn’t they have prevented it from taking place?
And for that matter,
Does that person even exist?
They tell her to wait and to understand
But she has been doing that for so long
That she forgot the purpose behind it
She sits there quietly.
Taking time to glance at their eyes
Hoping to find that person they’ve all been talking about
She would do that every day.
Over and over again
Each look criticizing her whole being
Leaving her defenseless
And at the end of the day consumed.
What was left of her, you might ask?
Her eyes.
Do you know that those blinking Christmas lights that forms into a star, mean something different to a lot of people?
It could be distracting for a person trying to concentrate on driving.
It could be pretty and shiny for a little kid.
It could be a new brilliant design for a furniture designer.
Or It could just be a Christmas decoration for a normal person.
But for me it was so different.
I don’t normally look out the window when I’m riding a vehicle because it makes me feel nauseous but in this case the car wasn’t moving .
So I bent my head to the left and looked.
It was beautiful.
It was new.
It was a brilliant idea.
But as I stared at it longer, I saw what others wouldn’t normally see. I saw beyond this Christmas decoration.
The chemistry of all the lights building into one perfect star as it glows, all depended on each blinking light’s differences, depended on its variations, depended on each other.
Like people. Different people taking their time to bring light… to spark. Converged into a single star which they now call home. And as the main switch opens, a spectacular show of lights blinking from different directions is seen.
Just like people I know…does it ring a bell now?
that was only the concept of how it was made, of how it came to be and of how I saw it differently.
There is more out there.
Things, places and wonders people have yet to encounter.
I want to be one of those to explore it. I want to see things the way I’ve never seen them before.
Because getting that feeling is such an amazing experience.
Realizing something so obvious in everyone’s eyes.
Having your breath taken away by this realization.
And engulfing yourself with this feeling and hoping it lasts for as long as it takes.
Chasing dead stars 