Monday, February 18, 2008
but who can i turn to if you turn away?
that has got to be one of my favourite astrud gilberto lines in this song (i loved this blog post of the song; you can say j cameron and i are of like mind and sentiment) check out the last line, of course --- or maybe the title suffices!).
last night, a well-meaning friend asked me, after reading THIS and THIS, "are you read to stand by all the things you wrote? aren't you scared? what if someone reads this at may pumalag?"
this was my reply: "those entries were not written to start a war; they were written at the end of one."
my friend could not understand how great the ocean of my grief has been on this drawn-out affair that i vowed to end this year. there are still remnants, though; when i remember the things they said behind my back (the 1% that i do know is hurtful enough), the tears flow once more. i've been told to spare them my tears and talents and i try to abide by such sound advice, but the heart cannot be taught to function like a switch. at least mine can't. i have a stubborn heart.
pagod na kasi akong sumikap na maintindihan pa nila. because they never will and if i think about it, it shouldn't have mattered since the beginning. their callousness tried to close down the very essence of who i am. did they mean to do it? sometimes i think the mob mentality brought it to the fore BUT i think they will never admit it openly. to anyone. ever.
they know who they are, this amorphous "they", if i ever choose to tell "them":
you've talked behind my back of petty things that belie your projected status as university students (but then PhD wannabes must be the meanest of the brood of vipers). you've judged me, not sought to know my side, thrown a stone the first instance you could.
i have reached out to you over the years and you have chosen to reject those efforts. it's your choice and though it still wounds me, i know that there is much more to life than waiting for you to understand. there is a whole world of friends and lovers in mine who would never hurt me the way i have allowed you to and enough is enough.
last night, a well-meaning friend asked me, after reading THIS and THIS, "are you read to stand by all the things you wrote? aren't you scared? what if someone reads this at may pumalag?"
this was my reply: "those entries were not written to start a war; they were written at the end of one."
my friend could not understand how great the ocean of my grief has been on this drawn-out affair that i vowed to end this year. there are still remnants, though; when i remember the things they said behind my back (the 1% that i do know is hurtful enough), the tears flow once more. i've been told to spare them my tears and talents and i try to abide by such sound advice, but the heart cannot be taught to function like a switch. at least mine can't. i have a stubborn heart.
pagod na kasi akong sumikap na maintindihan pa nila. because they never will and if i think about it, it shouldn't have mattered since the beginning. their callousness tried to close down the very essence of who i am. did they mean to do it? sometimes i think the mob mentality brought it to the fore BUT i think they will never admit it openly. to anyone. ever.
they know who they are, this amorphous "they", if i ever choose to tell "them":
you've talked behind my back of petty things that belie your projected status as university students (but then PhD wannabes must be the meanest of the brood of vipers). you've judged me, not sought to know my side, thrown a stone the first instance you could.
i have reached out to you over the years and you have chosen to reject those efforts. it's your choice and though it still wounds me, i know that there is much more to life than waiting for you to understand. there is a whole world of friends and lovers in mine who would never hurt me the way i have allowed you to and enough is enough.
