sleepless night # 1
It's almost 11 PM now and I was going to call it a day, but then all these thoughts running circles inside my head decided to deprive me of good sleep yet again. I am set to go back to Manila on Sunday, and somehow the mixed feelings of dread and excitement that I've been feeling ever since I booked my flight almost a couple of weeks ago is still snugly lodged at the back of my brain, forcing its way in and out from time to time. I wish I could just snap out of it and say, "You're going home, for crying out loud. Be happy, goddamit!" Somehow I can't just force myself to do it. And my inner self is proving unhelpful, counting down 5...4...3...2...1...blast off.
Friends who may be reading this, don't be insulted. Trust me, this has nothing to do with any of you (in fact, you guys are the only positive light in all of this, if I may say so). It's just me and my personal bowl of emotional granola (I've always loved cereal, ha-ha *groan*). Somehow, even after 3 months of having all the time in the world to resolve all my personal shit, I still haven't managed to do it. Amass a small fortune in new clothes and pasalubong, yes. Resolve the neverending saga of my personal hang-ups--that's a big N-O to you.
I look forward to seeing old friends, catching up on old times, sharing Oh-Shit-No-Really stories over coffee and cake at Starbucks (or Oz, or Sarah's--doesn't really matter), that once in a blue moon (really now?) yosi break at the fishball stand. Just being a friend among friends, in general. I look forward to tricycles and jeepneys and buses and taxis that ply 24/7 (no crappy buttonhole bus schedules in Manila, thank you very much), the 10-minute-away mall abuzz with Christmas decor and carols and gift suggestions as early as September. My bank account that seems on constant refill, like a soda bar in summer. Work, and the sunny, happy people I work with.
I am not so excited over the prospect of returning to what seems to me as aimless existence, when finally I feel like an esential component of a real, true, [albeit un-Brady Bunch] family life. When I don't feel like a boarder in my own home, or someone's secretary, or a personal assistant--like someone getting paid to, I don't know, just be there. At every beck and call. No roles, no opinions--just bob your head and wave your hand like a fucking puppet on a string. I don't like the idea that I only get to spend barely a quarter of a year with my mother who has been away and on her own ever since I was 8. I'm not a fucking comet that only manifests itself once every 75 years, nor do I intend to be the misguided fanatic who waits and waits and waits for it to come by and loses precious irreplaceable years of her life in the process.
What to do, what to do...
It seems silly to be worked up so much by just a trivial trip--and one going home, at that. But I believe that there's truth in the heart of it all. And truth is, I'm scared. I'm scared to be that misguided soul. These are my years, important times in my life, and I don't want to pass them by or throw them away by not doing what I want to be doing. It may seem selfish, but that is just that--selfish ideas beget selfish actions, and I feel like I've been under that selfish spell for too long. I'm so paranoid of something bad happening, something that's going to make me regret many things and decisions that I've done and made. I don't want to be the person that says, "If only..." or "What if...?"
I can't.
Friends who may be reading this, don't be insulted. Trust me, this has nothing to do with any of you (in fact, you guys are the only positive light in all of this, if I may say so). It's just me and my personal bowl of emotional granola (I've always loved cereal, ha-ha *groan*). Somehow, even after 3 months of having all the time in the world to resolve all my personal shit, I still haven't managed to do it. Amass a small fortune in new clothes and pasalubong, yes. Resolve the neverending saga of my personal hang-ups--that's a big N-O to you.
I look forward to seeing old friends, catching up on old times, sharing Oh-Shit-No-Really stories over coffee and cake at Starbucks (or Oz, or Sarah's--doesn't really matter), that once in a blue moon (really now?) yosi break at the fishball stand. Just being a friend among friends, in general. I look forward to tricycles and jeepneys and buses and taxis that ply 24/7 (no crappy buttonhole bus schedules in Manila, thank you very much), the 10-minute-away mall abuzz with Christmas decor and carols and gift suggestions as early as September. My bank account that seems on constant refill, like a soda bar in summer. Work, and the sunny, happy people I work with.
I am not so excited over the prospect of returning to what seems to me as aimless existence, when finally I feel like an esential component of a real, true, [albeit un-Brady Bunch] family life. When I don't feel like a boarder in my own home, or someone's secretary, or a personal assistant--like someone getting paid to, I don't know, just be there. At every beck and call. No roles, no opinions--just bob your head and wave your hand like a fucking puppet on a string. I don't like the idea that I only get to spend barely a quarter of a year with my mother who has been away and on her own ever since I was 8. I'm not a fucking comet that only manifests itself once every 75 years, nor do I intend to be the misguided fanatic who waits and waits and waits for it to come by and loses precious irreplaceable years of her life in the process.
What to do, what to do...
It seems silly to be worked up so much by just a trivial trip--and one going home, at that. But I believe that there's truth in the heart of it all. And truth is, I'm scared. I'm scared to be that misguided soul. These are my years, important times in my life, and I don't want to pass them by or throw them away by not doing what I want to be doing. It may seem selfish, but that is just that--selfish ideas beget selfish actions, and I feel like I've been under that selfish spell for too long. I'm so paranoid of something bad happening, something that's going to make me regret many things and decisions that I've done and made. I don't want to be the person that says, "If only..." or "What if...?"
I can't.
posted by anj at 11:05 PM
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