The Death in His Eyes

When the world is still sleeping

And the rain tiptoes in the dawn

When the scented candles are burning

Or when I smell freshly cut grass in the lawn

I think of you, my sweet darling

Oh, how I think of you

I think of how you looked at me

No unnecessary words spoken

You bathed upon my presence

And I caught your eyes

I remember them so clearly

They were the eyes of the broken

What have she done to you

My sweet darling

Oh, what have she done to you

Your eyes used to be a jungle

With nothing but lovely sunsets

And lovely meadows and rivers

But now they have become corpses

Ready and waiting to be sent back

To the ground

The ground of sorrows and the dead

And it pains me

Oh, how it pains me

If I Asked You, Would You?

when I'm looking at you

and you're looking back at me

I wonder how

the gods were

able to shrink a thousand

stars

into those eyes and

I wonder how

an entire galaxy

can spread throughout

the palms of your hands

how I wish you were just the

ocean

within my reach, easy 

to grasp

or the mountainsー

just a mile away

but there you are

light-years away

yes, beautiful and shining bright

but from where I stand

too far away

to hold

too far

away

Early Morning/Late Night Thoughts ep. 1

What we are as a person is a reflection of all the people we have met, books we have read, songs we have listened to and everything we have felt with our hands and with our hearts. It's like we are filtersーwe take everything in, and we give everything back we think the world is worthy of. So, what we do is actually a reflection of the energy we are getting from others. When we are treated kindly, it is always easy to be nice to others as well but when we are treated badly and nothing seems to go right, we easily fall to the trap of simply being unpleasant. And it eventually destroys our souls because of our lack of capacity to understand and forgive. For me, that's one definition of weakness.

There are also those people who are aware that throwing back the negativity they had accumulated over time may disrupt the harmony of coexistence. That is probably why we came up with things we call as 'outlets' where we can release some negativity out into the open air. But not all people are capable of finding these outlets. Not all people are capable of seeking help from friends.

And that is where self-destruction comes into picture. I view this as a different kind of weakness. When negative things are accumulated over time, we unknowingly destroy ourselves. Negativity wells up inside us slowly eating up our souls.

There are also those whose ego are way up high that they fail to recognize the monsters they have become. What about them? Do we just let them be? Or do we constantly offer them the help that they refuse?

There are also a few who are so strong they carry the burden until they die. What could be their secret in holding in that poison without harming anybody that comes close to them? 

Some people say it's love. Some people say it's faith. Hell, some people even say as simple as a good cry. I honestly don't know.

I'm on the verge of self-destruction. And at the same time I want to run wild and wreak havoc.

Hütte

I met her on the spring of 2012.

I left my job a week earlier without a 2-week notification so I think it is pretty understandable that the company I had been working for had been calling me nonstop to probably know what was up. I did not answer any of those calls because honestly, neither do I not know. I just wanted time to figure things out for myself alone with myself.

I was wandering around the town with my old red kei Subaru when I spotted a store which name was hütte. I have this crazy obsession with Germany and their language so I parked and helped myself in. It was a really small bar. It could probably accommodate 10 people at most.

Irrasshaimase! Said the voice from the kitchen.

She came out drying her hands with her apron and flashed a big smile. I was suprised to find out that the bartender, which I found out later was the owner, was a japanese woman. I was hoping to meet some German dude or chick, and maybe boast a little with my Deutsch skills and talk about their culture and some of their fine literary works. This woman did not disappoint though. She was more interesting than I initially thought she would be. 

You're my first customer for today, she said while handing me an oshibori.

She told me she usually opens at 5:30 but she arrived at her store way earlier.

Might as well open the store early, right?

Yeah. I agreed.

She was playing Juju's Calling You when I came in and this made me order a drink. I love beer, and so I ordered one. She gave me a salad to eat. I don't know what it was called but it had eggplants, okra, spinach, tomato sauce and cheese. I ate all of them and she gave me seconds, for free.

She introduced me to different kinds of music. She was especially fond of jazz so we listened to that a lot that day.

I liked how intimate that place was so I kept going back. We became really close. I would help her pour other customers' drink. I would help her wash the dishes. One night I was the only customer. I was sipping on my chardonnay and she was gulping shots of umeshu. We got really hungry but she was maybe too tired to make something.

I want to eat nabe at that new izakaya near the station. Have you heard of that place?

I said no and off we went. She also invited her twin sister and we ate and drank and talked until morning. You will not believe how big our age gap is by the way we laughed so much about petty and silly things.

I drank way too much. Unable to drive, she invited me to her house. We talked some more over tea. She showed me videos of his son, who was also my age, playing the jazz guitar. She told me places she had been. She even got to the point of crying in front of me. 

I have been seeing someone but he is married. I really feel bad. I feel bad for myself and his wife. But I love him.

She asked me not to mention it to anyone.

The next day, I helped her open up the store. We cleaned some of the remaining dirty dishes. I washed the ashtrays while she mopped the floor. She made us a simple meal and we ate.

It was Friday. Everyone goes out for a few drinks on Fridays and apparently that bar was one of the locals' favorite. I met a lot of people that night. Most of them were her customers from the bar she used to work at. There was a musician who also owned a bar with live jazz music every night, of course with him playing. There was also a very rich businesman who told me he had a drink with Mick Jagger in Phuket because they were staying at the same hotel. I also met a coffee meister who owns a coffee shop nearby. He taught me a lot of things about making coffee--from roasting, to grinding and even techniques on pouring your coffee. Now, I can make really good coffee, thanks to him. There was even a ramen chef who offered me a job at his ramen shop. There were surfers and I even got involved with one of them for a while. Of course there were assholes but we easily thwarted them away.

Basically, I met everyone there that I would never have met anywhere else. This place made me get out of my comfort zone. This place made me realize what I want and who I want to be. Three months later, I purchased a one-way ticket to Cebu.

I've decided to get a degree in Linguistics and I'm leaving in two days.

The room fell silent but it was a good kind of silent. They gave me a toast.

To natsumi's future! They laughed.

We all drank and talked for the last time.

Gambatte ne. They wished me well and I left.

I miss her.

I miss her so much. I still think of her and how much she had helped me find myself. I had told her my fears and worries which I could never share to my own mother. I wonder if she realizes how significant those three months I spent drinking with her were to who I am today. I was practically bumming around without a job and without any plans for myself but she and her other friends were there telling me stories that would act as pieces of advice.

I wonder if any of them still think of me as the girl who loves beer and Mevius. I wonder if they are wondering how I am doing.

I wonder.

Death, Pain, Love

So tell me, is it truly possible to know exactly how someone feels? There are empaths in this world, and I am a self-declared one. I have held tears when i see children begging for food, and i feel the pain of the mothers who can't provide it. And when I say feel the pain, I really feel that physical pain in your chest that we associate with emotional pain. I'm sure a lot of people feel this way, but that's not all there is to it. I take the pain as my own, and that's the difference. Most people sympathize but not empathize. This may be a gift or a curse. Who knows.

It was different yesterday. We went to see a friend in the hospital. We were supposed to see him in the morning. His mother was getting worse, and he probably needed someone to channel his fears to. We told him we will see him later in the day.

Later that day, he told us his mother had passed away.

I choked, i felt nauseated, and my gut suddenly felt shallow and empty like how you feel during the first drop of a roller coaster ride. We were in a mall when we got the terrible news. My boyfriend and i did not talk for 5 whole minutes; we just walked aimlessly. And then we snapped out of it; we talked about other things---where to eat and what else to buy. I suddenly thought of the people inside the mall. How many else had gotten terrible news right at that moment? How many else had lost a loved one that day? I could never tell just as they could never tell that we have a friend who just lost his mother. 

We had dinner with another one of our friends, and we all went straight to the hospital after. When we got there, he told us again that his mommy was gone and grieved his mother's deplorable death. The boys gave him a hug for a good three minutes. I stood there and looked at the heart-wrenching scene. His eyes were swollen and tired, but most of all, his eyes were the saddest eyes I have seen for a very long time. I was frozen. I fidgeted with my phone. I was awkwardly twirling my hair. I did not know what to do. I could not find the right words to say.

Should I say sorry? No. There's nothing a sorry can do.

Should I say be strong? No. I know he's strong.

Instead, I asked if he was okay, and yes, I am fully aware that it was the most irrelevant question ever.

I told you.

I really did not know what to say, and I regret saying something like that just for the sake of it.

He finally let us in, and there lay his mom. She was still on her hospital bed but this time, inside a body bag with the zipper still half open, which gave us a great view of his mother's face. She had a faint smile on her face as if saying she had a good one. I could only imagine how painful it would be for him when they zip that body bag up, when they lay her in her coffin, and finally, when they bury her 6 feet under. Each seems to act as a confirmation that she really has to go---each time just as painful.

But I did not feel anything.

I could not feel his pain like I used to with other people. I was there, standing between the living and the dead. I was staring right through the eyes of death, and yet, I did not feel anything. Maybe I was up too close, and I couldn't make out what was in front of me. Maybe I needed to take a step back and look at it from a different angle or step back a little further to get the bigger picture.

We went home, and I thought about this for a while. It was midnight when I realized that what he was experiencing was the ultimate kind of pain. His eyes told me so. And when one is experiencing this kind of pain, only he himself can feel this. Not even empaths can share this kind of pain. This explains why comforting words will never work. Only he himself has the ability to heal his wounds, and the best thing the people around can do is wait and send all the love they can give. Wait and love.

Love.

And more love.

 

Ego tripping

These are the things i like and dislike, the things i'm scared of and the things i believe in.

I secretly like blackouts. Although electricity has got to be one of my favorite inventions, yes, i secretly like blackouts. The boredom, the silence, the fact that i am forced to look around and pay close attention to the things around me like the sound of someone's footsteps, the knock on the door, the fluttering snowflakes, the crickets and birds. I like fruits, especially avocados. I also like green mangoes dipped in soy sauce. I like bananas, melons and peaches. I like strawberry-flavored chocolates, but i'm not a fan of eating the fruit by itself. I like broccolis sauteed in olive oil with a dash of pepper and salt. I like rain. I like cloudy. I like trains, and sleep there soundly. I like sunny days but not hot, humid days. I like foggy weather. I also like steam. I like sitting under a misting system on a hot summer day. I just like it when the air is hazy. I like shaved ice. I like snow. I just really like ice in general. I like it when restaurants put so much ice in my drink. I could chew on ice forever. I don't want to state the obvious but i really like music, different kinds of music. I'm a big radiohead fan. I cried when i saw them live. I like getting on a train and just get off at an unknown station and explore the town. I like poetry, both reading and writing. I like books. I like kerouac, tolstoy, murakami, fitzgerald, hemingway and yeats. I like woody allen and i like his films. I like long warm showers. I like soaking in the tub. In fact, let me get in the tub and continue writing this there. I like afternoons, it's my favorite time of the day. I like music festivals. I like crystals. I like stars. I like any citrus smell. I like gervic's smell, even if he smells like cigarettes and alcohol most of the time. I like the after-sex atmosphere. I like smoking up at the beach or the mountains or at some abandoned treehouse.

I don't like people who talk too much, they make me so uncomfortable. I especially don't like people who kiss other people's ass. I don't like waiting. I don't like making people wait. I don't like phone calls. I don't like it when someone cleans my room without me and i just get lost after. I don't like looking for things. I don't like mcdonald's. I don't like tangled wires. I don't like the imperial family or the royal family. I don't like it when my battery percentage is an odd number, it drives me nuts. I don't like the mayonnaise they make in the philippines.

I am a big fan of life. I love life. I am not scared of dying but i am so scared of that few seconds you spend before you die when you know you're about to die. Most of all, i am scared of losing the people i love. Just the thought of it sends specks of shattered glass into my heart. I believe in stoicism. I believe in objectivism. I believe in reincarnation. But there are also days when i just don't believe in anything. Like today.