Again

I am coming home again. Even though I have psyched myself that I would be staying in Manila to assist my mom in her bar exams, and that I had to earn my living from now on - now, I have to go back, to that lazy days thinking about the letters, doing errands for my boss, so and so.

It's not exactly bad. It's just that it's hard to adjust one thing to another. In one second, you're suddenly being called back to the world of working life (the one which you bargained for, for four years in college), and you're full of uncertainties because you don't know if you can live the way you wanted to since you've been frozen for months.

And then on the next second, you're heading back, after finally regaining your journalistic sense, your sense of working, your ideas coming into full bloom as opportunities sprouted everywhere.

It's hard, but somehow I'm getting used to it. I'm not saying I liked it at all. Sudden change upsets me easily. And I don't like being caught unprepared. I hate it the most.

But the fact that I'm coming back home doesn't change anything. Just that, I can see myself lying back on my bed, getting up the next day, sitting on my mom's table, answering calls, surfing the net, and waiting the sun to set. Oh, and of course, waiting for my brothers to come home. I love my brothers. They're one of the reasons I come home to. The reasons I can uphold myself till now.

But sometimes, my tears of unworthiness seep out. Being unable to practice one's expertise is frustrating. It can kill will better than heart attack.

You know, sometimes I want to stop understanding. Of thinking of others instead of myself first. Of saying what I mean and meaning what I say without apologizing nor regretting. Maybe in that way, I can see myself clearly. But I wasn't brought up that way. I didn't bring up myself that way. Maybe that's why, I still remain an obscured essence for myself. The mirror only shows my front. I still cannot get out.

When can I free myself from this? I want to make that first step. I want to stop waiting for something to happen. I want to make things happen.

I want to see myself, understand myself, before looking at others.




Decision: I am coming home. I'll finish this six-month promise. And I will head out.

Killer Eye

Tonight is a really funny one. And naughty.

I was with my mom and dad, eating dinner in McDonalds. I just ordered our desserts and had settled myself on my chair between a wall and my dad. My mom sat across us, so I have a clear view of the queue and some people eating.

While they were busy discussing cases that appeared in bar exams, I was sipping my hot chocolate, which I have been craving for ever since I had my last McDonalds treat during our drive back in Manila

I caught sight of a guy, who was lining up on the queue. There wasn’t anything interesting at all about him. But I held my gaze between my sips. He looked normal. Pentagon face, clean haircut, with some of his mane on the top rising like grass. He was thin with pinkish white skin. Not exactly different from the rest of the people swarming in McDo. The fast food was fully packed with college students, mostly fair-skinned nursing students.

(Really, if Filipinos are spread all around the world, Koreans are all around the Philippines already. People, come back.)

The guy was wearing blue shirt and khaki shorts. He was talking with his friend, who was wearing an orange shirt and denim shorts. His friend sported a Jerry Yan-hair. I switched my eyes back to him, and then he caught my eye.

He lingered for more than a second, his lips still moving as he talked almost unconsciously to his friend, then broke eye contact.

I don’t know why, but I smiled slyly behind my cup. Aha, I thought. This is the power of the eyes. And I was suddenly giggling that I had to switch back to my parent’s conversation (which was unexpectedly funny since they were smiling and chuckling) before they start to ask why I was acting weirdly.

I keep dipping in and out of my parent’s conversation, so I didn’t exactly know what they were talking about the entire time. Just bits of it. I looked back at the guy along the queue to check if I wasn’t exactly hallucinating that a guy stared back at me, and to check if “the eye” is not an illusion.

He looked at me again as I was sipping and I didn’t move my eyes away. As quickly as he did, he gazed away. And I was thinking – aha! So I can be intimidating! J Very, very powerful senses indeed, these eyes are. Normally, it would be me who would drop the gaze. But, maybe it was the hot chocolate, I was feeling rather silly today. I like the effect I see with my just-discovered flirting ability, if I can call it one.

His friend came close to him again, maybe to change his order. He talked to his friend, and suddenly, I found his friend scanning the crowd. I stared at him. His friend gazed back at me and then dropped the gaze. As though nothing had happened, his friend pointed his order to him, and then left him alone.

And then, the guy moved to the farthest lane. I suspected it’s a deliberate move. I couldn’t almost see him. I shrugged. My stare scared him. A small smile remained on my lips as I turned back to my parent’s conversation.

(I could almost hear Papasam calling it the Hegisaurus hungry look, and Poli telling me that the guy probably thought I was going to eat him. *shake away the voices*)

And just when I thought he wouldn’t be there anymore, I looked up again, taking a sip of my hot chocolate, and then caught his eye. It appeared that we had turned at the same time and looked at each other for half a second before he dropped the gaze and started talking to the cashier.

If I could laugh, I would. I had to cover my chuckle with fits of cough. Silly, silly me. Silly, silly imagination.

As I was finishing my drink, my mom complaining that she can’t finish her chocolate sundae, I stared ahead just in time to see his friend sit on a table, two tables and around fifteen tiles away, directly facing us. The guy went to their table and started distributing the goods. I stared. Jerry Yan stared back for more than half a second this time before talking to him.

I began to shake my head. Just one look (or rather four times) and I got them talking and staring back at me. Whether they were talking about how ugly I am, or rude, or flirting in a disappointing way, I couldn’t care less.

I couldn’t help myself and laughed privately. I was a bit ditzy today. Surprisingly aggressive and coy. Surprisingly secretive and bold.

So much for my first non-verbal flirting.

Although later, I did check my reflection if I didn’t really look like an idiot tonight. I parted my hair today in half-ponytail on two sides. Not exactly beautiful enough to be a head-turner. But just a clean up-do with bangs for dramatic effect. I was just wearing my brown journalism shirt and old denim pants. As I stared, I shrugged. Nothing exactly interesting but that sly smile lingering on my lips.

Hahaha. I think I’m drunk…

Nope. I think I have a hormone that produces tipsiness because I don’t drink at all…

I think it’s the hot chocolate…

I don’t think I need alcohol to get tipsy at all…

What do you think?

Yup. Definitely the chocolate.