ten years from now

I came across an old paper my prof made us write eons ago. I miss my past self dearly, I realize.

Cliché as it is, but the saying about change being the only constant thing still holds true to this day, unless the durability of a Nokia 3310 counts.

How I foresee myself ten years from now is indeed something to think about, but ten years from now is both a long time and a short ine. If it is already a challenge for me to how my life would be a year from now, what more of ten years?

But a girl can dream, and if everything works out for me, then picturing my future self is just a breeze. In a perfect universe, this is how I will be ten years from now:

It is the year 20xx, and I have a year left before I bid my twenties adieu. I am still alive and probably in a foreign country, teaching English to kids. I have stayed there for five months and will be travelling to my tenth foreign country afterwards. My fourth novel has been published. It may not have gotten massive international recognition, but that is beyond my concern. I picture myself staying single, living with a pet dog with his ears down, just the way I like it. I am not the richest person, nor will I be featured in Time magazine's Most Influential, but that is a dream I never had. I will probably own a trailer car and sleep there from time to time--somewhere by the beach, under a ferris wheel or under the bursting and colorful fireworks against a New Year Eve's sky.

Ten years from now, I see myself as someone still alone, but by then I'll have enough self-fulfillment. I will not deny myself of dark and lonely evenings, but ten years from now, I will have sufficient self-love to cover for it. Ten years from now, the Nokia 3310 may still be the most durable thing I'll ever see, and I may not be teaching overseas, but I still myself aiming for the same goal--to love myself enough to keep me going.

I've been so indiferrent look at where it got me. It saddens me to think that the world has conditioned me so well that thinking I could be good enough has become a bitter pill to swallow. I don't want to live just because I'm not dead yet. I miss her; I hope to meet her again.

In My Lonely Hours

Sige, maliligo na ako.

Babangon, magsusuklay, maghihilamos.
Maghihilod, magsasabon at magsisipilyo.
Baka lang naman sakaling matanggal at maalis na tong nakaraang ang tindi ng kapit sa balat ko--itong demonyong nakasusulasok ang baho.

Sige, maliligo na ako.

Magbibihis, magkikilos-tao, lalabas ng kwarto.
Kakain, pansamantalang bibitaw sa telepono. . .

Pero, puta, pagod na ako.
Puta, paos na ako.
Puta, bakit ba ganito?

Nasisikatan ng araw, pero di naagnas.
Ilang krus na ang iniharap, ngunit di pa rin nagwawakas---
Teka, ano'ng dapat magwakas: ako ba o ang parusa?

Ilang araw na'ng nagdaan; wala pa ring pag-usad.

Kahit anong gupit ng kuko'y hahaba rin,
Kahit anong ligo ko'y babaho rin,
Kahit anong sipilyo'y, lalabas din
ang katotohanang "wala kang kwenta!"
"Wala kang patutunguhan!"
"Demonyo ka!"
"Putang ina!"

'Tang ina nga!

Pagod na talaga ako. . .

Pero sige, maliligo pa rin ako.
Magbibihis-tao; magpapanggap na tao, at baka isang araw, may magbago.

Gray Areas

He started, "One of the reasons why I loved you from the start is because you seemed so positive about life. Then I got to know you and there were these gray areas."

My lips formed a smile as my mind gushed over those irises of his. "But I'm more of a rainbow, love..." I trailed off.

...And who ever said expectations should always be met?