kamalayan.

Goal for the Year

2010-01-03T08:31:00.000-08:00

For the past weeks, my belief that it doesn't take much to be happy has been continually reinforced. They always portray happiness as an elusive quality, like one can go in search of it forever and never find it, like this life is generally meant to be lived in drudgery, misery and mediocrity. Lukewarm emotions towards people and occurrences abound. But I have come to rediscover how simple it is to be in that state of smiling happiness.

I for one have joy in my heart having God in my life even in times of sorrow or uncertainty, but I have come to see that impermanent feeling of happiness is not difficult to achieve either, it's just a matter of adjusting one's view, or sharpening one's vision.

It all boils down to what you think can make you happy. Most of the time it's not in transitory things. Family, friends, love, peace, affirmation, good laughs and good stories, long walks and long talks, embraces, productive days, food that warms the heart, right amounts of sunshine, rain and wind - these are the things that make me happy, and not all need to be present at all times. Four of these things are always present in my life, and for that I realize that I am now enjoying a constant state of happiness.

All this makes me see just how blessed I really am. I am joyful and grateful that God has given me a life that is rich in all measures to enable me to thrive and gain footing. So this year, it is my basic wish for me to be used as an instrument to make others happy.

I have had my lifetime's worth of wishes for myself and noticed that most of the things I want are just icing on my fudgy non-spongy delectable cake. This year, I want to be able to make at least another person happy. That would make me even happier. So really, there are no losses in putting other people first. To know that you had a part, however small a measure, in making someone smile or forget his worries even just for a moment, would give such an incorrupt, selfless happiness to oneself. And that, to me, is happiness in its truest form.

I thank God for another blessed year.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
01/04/2010
12:00am

This be a Self-Centered Post

2009-12-11T22:09:00.000-08:00

I know you have a whole different side to this and for all I know, this may just be another hormone attack care of PMS, but I'm feeling too much right now and I believe I owe it to you to let you know.

This is new to me (as I know it is for you too) and there may be a lot I haven't adjusted to yet. But I've been feeling really bad lately.

I know it's unfair to expect but I had the impression commitment entails communication. I don't know how it can be managed to not be able to hear from the other person for an entire day; it certainly is hard for me. Somehow you seem to manage just fine.

Lately you give me the feeling that you'd rather be with friends than be with me. That you'd rather talk to them on the phone and find out how they're doing than listen to me jabber on about work woes (and I wouldn't blame you, who wouldn't). That you'd rather spend time with them than with me. That when you have free time, it's one of them you're thinking of calling instead of me. That you wouldn't think of me at all unless I message you first. That I am gathering dust at the very bottom of your priority list. I feel very square, boring and unimportant.

I'd like to think if this were school, I'd be one of the major subjects without which one would flunk out of the degree, and not just an extra-curricular activity that messes up with one's academics and holds no bearing to the general weighted average.

There are a lot more things to be said, but I can't anymore.

Did you notice how many "I's" were there in this post? I know being where we are now means saying less "I's" and mentioning more "you's", more importantly, focusing on the "we". Forgive me for my selfishness.

I just told you recently not to make me cry, but today, you just did.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
12/12/2009
03:41am

Let it be known that this is not an attack, but an act of love. I miss you always.
[this is obviously me making a big deal out of little things. PMS please end soon.]

Request

2009-12-07T17:22:00.000-08:00

You have the power to make things better or make me cry.

Please don't make me cry.

lavender-wilwarin

coreenangelicafernandezchan

12/08/2009

09:23am

Missing You

2009-11-12T09:29:00.000-08:00

My thoughts go out to you constantly; in every fraction of a nanosecond, my thoughts go out to you. I am acutely aware of the time and I find myself wishing to have the power to speed it up so I could be with you or slow it down when we are together. I am incapable of looking at you when we have to part and I immediately turn my back after the "see you soon" because I fear I won't be able to walk away from you. Every breath I take smells of your perfume.

When we are not together, I think of you. I think of what makes you smile. I wonder how one can be so calm and enigmatic, I wonder if I bore or annoy you with all my talk. I think of how you holding my hand gives me a feeling of security and at the same time allows me admission of vulnerability, that I need people. That I need you.

And so here I am, babbling my way in an effort to make it very clear, as transparent and fragile as crystal can get, to make it known that I miss you.

I miss you.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
11/13/2009
02:02am

Simple Lang

2009-11-02T11:30:00.000-08:00

For the longest time, I seem to be writing with a dark cloud above my head. I only remember to write about the stuff that elicit negative emotions, and while I never forget to inject my brand of hope and positivism, people might begin to wonder if my life really has a constant climate of dreariness.

Well, it does not.

I have a lot of words to describe frustrating and depressing conditions, maybe to make sure that whoever gets to read it would somehow feel what I felt, even to the smallest extent; but right now, where I am, it's quite simple to convey my state. I wouldn't employ witty wordplay, amazing alliteration (but then again, that's just what I did =P), numerous figures of speech or flowery descriptives to share how I am, just that:

I am happy.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
11/03/2009
03:49am

...and it feels really great to be.=D

Needing the Why

2009-10-21T11:28:00.000-07:00

It happens to everyone once in a while: one drowns in stress but is still unable to stop, not unlike working in an assembly line (ayun, nag-tunog Marxist =P), until sometimes one squeezes out musings of whether one would still be able to recognize oneself in the mirror.

It's so easy to get lost, especially in the industry I'm in. Everything's an intricate maze of objectification, commodification, ulterior motives, corruption, politics, red tape and drama that makes it so hard to find the exit, much less the crevice one entered from.

-----

I began writing the above paragraphs around two weeks ago, and then I had to attend to something, got busy, forgot about it and was not able to continue it.

And now I can't continue it anymore because what I was dealing with at that time basically shape-shifted.

I always say I hate saying goodbyes, even the see you tomorrow kind, but I always end up the one saying it; and now I have to say it even more and more often. I always end up being left. I'm left-handed, you see (wenk, not funny =P).

I didn't even get to write my conclusion to what I was thinking about that day two weeks ago. I wanted to end it with something positive.

I guess the positive thing is that it hasn't ended yet. There is still something to be done. The ground can shift again.

Or, Lord help me, I will have to move mountains.

lavender-wilwarin

coreenangelicafernandezchan

10/22/2009

02:59am

Tongue Twister

2009-10-06T13:00:00.000-07:00

There really are more famous international languages. In college, there were certain foreign language classes that quickly run out of slots during the first few hours of enlistment; there were lines upon lines of students petitioning for new classes to be opened. One of my previous professors, upon asking some students what foreign language electives they were taking, commented vehemently: “RUSSIAN?! Portuguese? Why are you taking these classes? Those languages won’t help you! Ilang tao ba sa mundo ang nagsasalita ng Russian [I wanted to tell him ‘a lot’, since Russia is a big country with a big population, but didn’t want to be a smart-aleck]?”

Spanish, French and Italian: these were the high-demand European language classes in college. I’d confess that I had wanted to speak French and Spanish for the longest time. To my ears, French is just so romantic and elegant; Spanish is so passionate and rhythmic. I fought tooth and nail to get the classes (well, not really, mostly I waited patiently, fell in line for hours, kept my fingers crossed, and prerog-ed to death) until I did get them.

My work entailing being at events to feature in our magazine show, I went with my crew to the opening of Pelicula, the Spanish Film Festival by Instituto Cervantes. It was a delight to hear the language being spoken, and as the Institute’s director delivered his opening remarks, I found myself out of breath at the English speech being delivered but still sounding very Spanish.

It was beautiful.

Then I realized, how come we Filipinos don’t speak like that when using our native tongue? Is it because our languages are inferior to them? Is it because we have poor capacities at enunciation? Certainly not.

All languages are equally beautiful. But while I was sitting there, I suddenly noticed what differentiated those languages which were internationally-recognized as beautiful from the native languages that we speak.

The Spanish and the French, these people, they truly love their language. They speak it with a passion, they savor it in their mouths like a multi-flavored taste, they recognize its power; they deliver it with respect. Each word that they release is at once firm and lyrical. They promote it to the world with full conviction that their language is beautiful.

How I would love the Filipino language to be spoken that way. We study it formally for at least 15 years but in the end we still know little about it and have even less appreciation for it (and less, it seems, for our regional tongues, as some are on the verge of being declared dead languages). Filipino for one is a beautiful language, highly evocative and poetic, and it comes with specific structures and rules.

I admit, even I, who am writing about this right now, am also one of the majority who do not have a comprehensive knowledge of the language. I do not write as effectively in Filipino. I will not, if randomly asked, be able to discuss the difference in delivery of words which are maragsa, malumi, malumay. We as a people do not devote much time mastering something that we use extensively every single day of our lives.

If only we treat our languages with the same love and respect other nations treat theirs, it just might contribute, even if for a small measure, to having more responsibility towards building our identity as a nation.

One time my mother told me, “Anak, kapag nag-e-English ka hindi perfect ang diction, ano? Hindi kagaya no’ng nag-aaral ka sa ----------.”

I said, “Oo nga po. Walang twang, diretso lang.”

“Bakit ayaw mong magsalita ng ganun?”

“Hindi naman ako tumira sa ibang bansa e. Saka American English ‘yun. Filipino English ang gamit ko.”

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
10/07/2009
02:35am

August 28, 2009

2009-09-02T09:47:00.001-07:00

I had a persistent headache. I couldn't breathe properly. The opening of my eyes were one millimeter wide and my eyebags were five inches thick. My entire face was red the whole day. I had rashes up to my shoulders from hyperventilating and crying.

It was my birthday, alright. In keeping with tradition, it's the 10th I spent crying (my 19th birthday being a special case as it issued forth tears of joy thanks to my blockmates' overwhelming surprise). I have kept on asking, why always on this day?

I am a relatively cheerful person. I punctuate most sentences with a tiny laugh. I could say I am a generally content person with a positive outlook and with little complaints. Remember that I have the naive perspective and am very easy to please.=P But when August comes around, the floodgates of my lacrimal glands loosen slowly until they open all out on the 28th for a flashflood. And I ask, why on this day? Why should a heaviness shroud me on the day that is supposed to be mine?

This year, I am reminded of some answers.

I should be thankful for everything. Should I accept only the good and not face the bad?

Turn the other cheek.

The meek shall inherit the earth.

Those who exalt themselves shall be humbled, and those who are humble shall be exalted.

In the middle of the very busy work night, I arrived at my second location where I left my cameraman and was saddened that I did not get to hear even one song from this concert of one of the bands I like with the Manila Symphony Orchestra.

Then they announce that they would be playing the last song of the night.

It's 'Wag Ka Nang Umiyak.

Guess what I did [hahahaha].

I say, it's easy to be given fleeting spurts of happiness on birthdays, but to be given maturity, learning, and the opportunity to rise is a special gift indeed.

I may cry until my eyeballs get so swollen they invade my entire face, but I have joy in my heart, and that is a constant.

Thank God for tears.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
09/02/2009
05:21pm

LASON

2009-08-21T12:05:00.000-07:00

Kailangan ilabas sa sistema ang lason.

Hindi ako nagbubuhat ng sariling bangko.

Pero ang tantsa ko naman sa sarili ko, somewhat madaling kausap. I don't complain much. I'm content with working in the sidelines and laboring backstage. I will do almost everything to make sure the job is done well. Umaattitude din ako pero ginagawa ko pa rin ang trabaho ko. I'm a peace-loving person who keeps to herself. Hindi ako nanunumbat. Hindi ako nakikipagtalo. Tahimik lang akong nagtatrabaho. I also don't stay around waiting to be given credit. Okay lang sa aking sumalo ng sumalo ng sumalo ng sumalo kahit masakit na ang tuhod ko; minsan nga lang nadadapa.

Mapagtimpi at mapagtiis ako, hanggang umabot sa puntong hindi na ako makahinga.

HUWAG NAMAN KAYONG UMABUSO.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
08/22/2009
03:26am

Pasakalye

2009-07-01T11:11:00.001-07:00

Thoughts for the season:

Recession ngayon, 'wag magpaka-choosy.

Habang bata pa at kaya pa, 'wag masyadong mag-overthink. Gawin lahat ng puwedeng gawin.

Being bunso is not a license.

bow.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
07/02/2009
02:29am

Quarantine

2009-06-29T05:26:00.000-07:00

A lot of differences can be noticed when I got sick around last week. I thought I can still be the indomitable tough girl in the face of physical pain. Apparently, I can’t.

And to think it was only supposed to be the flu.

I remember the time when I had this really nasty flu, the kind when people are afraid I’d cough out my lungs any moment or spontaneously combust in front of them. I didn’t even absent myself from classes (to the dismay of everyone in school, I’m sure, for fear of me spreading around my killer flu virus). It just so happened that I had this nasty virus during intramurals, when everyone is obsessed with winning the cheerdance competition. Yes, it doesn’t look believable at all, but there was a time in my not-so-distant past when I was a cheerdancer (LOL).

So what did I do during that time of sickness? Being the level-headed reasonable person that I am, I continued to attend the rehearsals, of course. I would be delirious with my skyrocketing temperature and super-dizzy-out-of-focus nauseous mind, struggling to breathe in my endless coughing fits, but I’d be pumping my fists in the air, kneeling down in the concrete, and doing all the steps just like everyone else in the team. Not even my mom could make me stop, until the teacher assigned to the group ordered me to go home and hide under the blankets, surfacing only to drink 100% pure pineapple juice.

So what on earth happened during the years between that instance and my case of flu last week? Because last week, I was completely different. I would just spontaneously cry from the pain.

You want graphic details? Of course you don’t, but I’d give them anyway, hahaha. Everyone in the house was in front of the electric fans and still perspiring, but I was wearing socks, pajamas, a jacket, under two blankets and still having the chills. Every muscle ached; I could literally perceive sharp pain as I felt my blood circulate my veins. My brain was mush. My eyeballs were being torched out of their sockets by the warm vapors emanating from me. I couldn’t eat anything, and since my digestive system was practically empty, during my vomiting fits I couldn’t bring out anything, but peristaltic motion continued to push up anyway, until I would regurgitate pink fluid – whoa, whoa, back-up, that was not supposed to come out, pasintabi sa mga kumakain.

It was as terrible as terrible can be. It was so bad I couldn’t speak, and aside from crying, all I can do was look at the time and pray that it would be 12:30am/pm or 6:30am/pm so I could drink my medicine.

The doctor who examined me wore a mask while listening to my chest. My sisters looked at me with concern, and while nobody was saying it, I knew everyone was screaming “Huy! A(H1N1) na ba ‘yan?!” in their heads.

I was really wondering how I managed to transform from the obstinate undefeatable teenager to the crying helpless bedridden person in a matter of some years. Can it be:

1. Mabilis akong tumanda at hindi ko napansin na may pagtanda nang naganap sa aking lupang katawan,
2. Ako nga talaga ang babaeng Benjamin Button at nagre-regress na ako,
3. Bigla na lang bumaba ang aking threshold of pain,
4. Nakakahawa ang ginagawa ng nanay ko na natatakot sa doktor at nasasaktan kahit sa pitik.

A week later, tiny red spots splattered my legs.

Pare, dengue na pala ang sakit ko, hindi flu.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
06/29/2009
02:35am

Déjà Vu

2009-06-29T05:09:00.000-07:00

I know that story.

It’s all too familiar as too often have I seen it unfold right before me, revealing my inevitable entanglement in the story.

That story starts with skepticism, having known all the other stories that are just like it, and then metamorphoses into something promising. You don’t want to, but you take a chance, because it might be right this time, and you’ve already developed this hopeful stance in the matter. You then wait it out, observing, thinking; feeling.

Sometimes it’s perceptible, sometimes you’re not even aware for the longest time, but you begin to fall into the situation. You believe in the person, in the situation, in the future.

You become so involved in the story, and you hope with all your might that the ending will turn out right this time. You take note of every day, every hour, every second; the slightest twitch speaks volumes for you. You build a vast archive of memories, remembering everything from the most mundane laugh to the most notable occurrence. You listen to all those beautiful lines. You keep all the words and believe with all your heart in their power.

You believe some more until you realize you’re not thinking anymore, you have given your feelings full reign.

You end up in free-fall.

And it really feels good soaring through the air like that, feeling the acceleration, no other force governing you but gravity.

Until you realize no one is there to catch you.

You realize you know nothing. There are no facts, no plans; just vagueness, obscurity, and disappearances.

You realize you haven’t really even been told anything. You take notice that everyone knows: the real friends, the real permanent people in his life, knows what happens in his life now, what he plans to do. None of it you have ever heard of, of course, and none of it involving you.

He knows the real deal. You know only what you chose to believe.

And you get all puzzled at why they all waste time trying to make you believe in the possibilities when they all plan on leaving you in the end anyway.

Because that’s how the end looks like all the time in all these stories you have ever told: they leave. Sometimes without even telling you.

Why does the ending of that story never change?

Abandonment issues. I had them for the longest time. Don’t tell me you love me if you’ll leave me just like all the others.

Do you know that story?

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
06/29/2009
03:08am

Precious Naïveté

2009-06-05T11:32:00.000-07:00

I can have that look sometimes. Okay, maybe a lot more times than I am aware of. I call it my wide-eyed-vulnerable-oooh-I'm-so-helpless-I'm-about-to-cry look. My friends actually think I can use it to my advantage. And maybe I could.

A few days ago, I went to a government office to get a certain form. I went inside the office and saw this seemingly PMS-ing barking woman standing at the other side of the desk labeled FORMS. I stood about three feet away from her, afraid to approach, merely looking as she snapped at everyone around her desk. In the middle of her vehement speech, she happened to glance at me, and decided to stop. After which she said "Yes?" ever so softly to me.

"Puwede pong humingi ng form?" I asked, smiling slightly (I didn't want to push it, she might holler at me suddenly). Upon which she reached under her desk, and handed me about a ream of the form I was asking for. I was out of the office in two minutes.

That same day I was walking around a certain area looking for a photocopy station and decided to approach someone tending a small stall to ask for directions. I almost turned around the moment I called her attention, because she was obviously irritable and wasn't in the mood to give someone like me directions. But since I was already standing in front of her, I had no choice but to ask. Surprisingly, she did give me directions, not just to one but two photocopy stations. And I think she smiled back a teensy bit when I smiled at her berfore I left.

I have been called naïve thrice in a single day in different occasions, by different people who didn't know each other, in the very recent past. That began my acquired resentment at being perceived as naïve. Forget about the perks, I am not clueless and helpless.

I have seen bad things. I have experienced bad things happen to me and to people close to my heart. I know life is not all sunshine and flowers, even though I may sometimes look like I think life is as simple as that. I know I don't know much, but I do maintain critical-mindedness in all my thought processes. And believe me when I say that I don't falter. I may cry a lot, stare with deer-caught-on-headlights eyes, or stutter, but I don't falter.

It's funny knowing the stereotype the industry I'm in is tagged with. I remember pulling out my notebook during a meeting and momentarily resting my arms over it when I saw my colleagues' choice in paper products: nothing conspicuous, ordinary-looking bound pages in black, brown or navy blue. Mine was rainbow-colored and butterfly-shaped, scribbled on with a slim purple pen.

And then I began to laugh (only in my mind, of course, lest people think I've gone crazy). Why would I hesitate about showing people who I am? Yes, I'm the one who loves Disney movies and happy endings, the one who listens to Yolanda Adams's I Believe to motivate me while doing crunches, the one who can be cheered up by a scoop of ice cream, piece of cake or even Chocnut, the one who wouldn't watch horror even if you paid her, the one who makes up names for her mom and sisters, the one who wears orange with purple, the one who wouldn't say bad words or lie because, well, it's bad.

So I remove my arms over my notebook and let everyone see how different it is.

There is too much hurt, and sadness, and disappointment, and anger in this world to dwell on them. I choose to find and preserve all the good that I still can. I choose to be colorful rather than to be drab and dreary. I choose to silently look for solutions rather than to grumble. I choose to sing while walking. I choose to feel rather than to ignore.

I will not apologize for who I am.

So I guess having that look does have certain perks. And I will hold on to that innocence, that positivity, that idealism, for as long as I can.

Oh yes, call me naïve. I know better.

After all, I also have the piercing-dagger-stare-be-very-afraid-you'll-turn-into-a-pillar-of-salt-if you-mess-with-me
look. But that's another story.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
06/07/2009
05:27am

So I guess writing this post proves that I am naïve. LOL.=P

How to Deal

2009-05-18T04:24:00.000-07:00

When one is on standby mode, all systems are frozen to current settings until one is ready to work again. So how does one deal when put on standby mode? Mindless overload.

The Viewing List:

Grey's Anatomy reruns starting from the very first episode of the very first season ("Pick me. Choose me. Love me."). Boys Over Flowers (I am coming clean about this =P). American Idol Season 8.

The Reading List:

For One More Day by Mitch Albom. He's Just Not That Into You by Greg Behrendt. blogs, blogs, blogs. news. Back packaging of every single thing in the house.

The Playlist (on loop at any given time whenever applicable):

Flightless Bird, American Mouth by Iron & Wine. Insensitive by Jan Arden. Missing You by John Waite. Waiting in Vain by Annie Lennox. I Don't Wanna Wait by Paula Cole. The Space Between by Dave Matthews Band. Somewhere Only We Know by Keane. Goodbye My Lover by James Blunt.

The Menu:

Mangga't bagoong (I finished one bottle of Barrio Fiesta spicy bagoong in one day and I'm not even exaggerating). Frozen yogurt with almond clusters. Chocolate, chocolate and more chocolate. Pan de sal overload. Sodium, sugar, trans fat, saturated fat and preservatives (the usual).

The Schedule:

Amount of sleep falls anytime between two hours and fourteen hours (with no underlying reason). Walking until the soles of my shoes lose friction power (or my knees become a throbbing arthritic mess). Lunch at 5pm. Nesting forever.

The Look:

The forever glazed-over look on my face. Staring at open space, looking at nothing.

The Mood:

Lukewarm. Neither here nor there. Coldly indifferent one moment. Combustibly reactive the next.

What does it take to resume current settings and programs when one has been on standby mode for way too long? Most of the time, the logical move would be to shut down completely. To save on energy costs and lessen the damage to the environment. To regulate the amount of our carbon footprint.

This must be how the meantime feels.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
05/18/2009
03:03pm

sucks, doesn't it.

Late Bloomer

2009-05-17T10:18:00.000-07:00

When I was in highschool, I didn't quite get all the fuss about adolescence. I didn't know how an oily face feels like and only put on powder as a member-of-the-pack ritual. I did know the feeling of a sweaty face all too well, though. I was the kid running on springed feet, attending three simultaneous meetings in a single afternoon; opting to be the timer/watcher running around during an "amazing race" activity while all my other female classmates choose to stay and guard the clue posts.

I had about three pimples a year which were out in three days with no major drama. My hair was long and uncombed but somehow managed to stay presentable (at least I wanted to believe it did =P). While my batchmates were concerned with lovelife (which, understandably, is a very in topic in highschool), I was busy delivering the school paper I edited to the farflung classrooms and buildings (carrying 600 copies in one go), wrote the plays for Filipino class, "choreographed" whatever presentation needing movement (oh yes, believe it), sang, and ping-pong-ed around for whatever competition that needs a representative. Okay, I was concerned with lovelife as well (no use denying, right) but somehow nobody knew.

I'm not even sure if all my permanent teeth are already out.

Fast forward to the present. Everyone else have outgrown their pimples, oiliness, split ends and flyaways, while still managing to be concerned with lovelife. I, on the other hand, start to grow mutant pimples by the dozen, the kind the dermatologist wants to inject with some potent antibiotic, the kind that stays on your face for six months. What was once well-behaved hair developed a life of its own, going whichever direction it wants and being dry today and oily the next.

I'm experiencing biological adolescence all over again. Or maybe I'm the female Benjamin Button.

And then, along with the physiological manifestations, the mother-daughter wrestle comes in.

I have heard of this dilemma too often in highschool. Mothers and daughters don't understand each other during the transition period. But I never experienced it; mom and I were too close. I slept beside her at night, I tell her everything, I pull pranks everytime I come home from a contest, she tells me her problems, she asks for advice, I know what she would like when I go to a store, we have a lot of laughs together. She is my best friend. And I hold her in my highest esteem.

Then again, lately we get those encounters. We argue everytime she comes home and I get this feeling that she doesn't quite understand me. We're of different minds when it comes to our passions. We both generally have temperaments that are quick to boil over, and it's not a very good mix. She disapproves of the things I do. Only too often do I feel that I disappoint her.

So this is how the wrestle feels like.

Still, I listen to all she has to say. Most of the time I get hurt, but I take it all in anyway. Maybe her words hurt because they have a measure of truth in them. At any rate, I always, always listen, knowing she can be headstrong, stubborn, opinionated and outspoken because she only wants the very best for me, fighting for it long after I have settled for something less.

I always, always listen because she brought me up that way.

And I still sleep beside her everytime she comes to visit, embracing her until I fall asleep. Our minds may work differently at the moment, but our cores are made of the same thing; the same values she taught me.

I know this is just a phase. Like the pimples, bad hair days, fixation on lovelife, this is just a phase.

Because at the end of the day, I only want to make my mom happy. For her to feel that raising me was worthwhile.

After all, all my permanent teeth haven't even come out yet.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
05/18/2009
03:30am

a post-mother's day post.

The View from Outside

2009-04-29T06:39:00.001-07:00

It’s past midnight as I walked the lamplit streets of Quezon City, shrouded in cold silence.

It made me remember the days when I lived up in the mountains and I could walk the streets in relative abandon, not caring about anything else. I loved living there. In those highlands I could laugh as loud as I wanted, cry as noisily as I can, take hold of the simple joys, manage the problems by myself, have people around me who cared, run around in pajamas, eat vegetables, buy a scoop of ice cream and take a scoop for free.

I knew I would leave one day, but that did not stop me from being attached to everything and everyone. Even up to the last days I made plans should things happen differently and I ended up staying in the mountain city. I secretly hoped things would not push through and I would keep on living there for three years more.

But I did leave.

And I knew as I was riding that bus down to Pampanga, tears and sobs uninhibited for everyone to see, that I was leaving the life I had there. I was not coming back.

It took me a long time to get over it. To get used to the new milieu. An entire semester passed by barely being experienced because all thought and attention still went out to the mountains. I hardly had new friends, scarcely got involved in anything other than classes. I kept on willing myself to preserve my life on that mountain, to maintain all kinds of contact; to retain residence there even when I am not there physically.

I cried a lot.

I wrote epic-length emails and handwritten letters to them.

Then I realized I really am somewhere else.

I accepted that I was no longer part of the daily lives of the people I left, that I was not coming back, and that I had a different life to live.

And so I made a lot of new friends, joined an org, became college scholar, quit the org, had a singko, staged a festival, prerog-ed to death, got food poisoned, sang in a zarzuela, jogged in the academic oval, forgot the meaning of sleep, joined a rally, slept [while hiding!] at the IC basement, and graduated at the Oblation Field. I loved Diliman with all my heart and mind.

But I will never forget that piece of Baguio I tucked away in a special spot in my heart.

IN THE SAME MANNER:

It’s past midnight as I walked the lamplit streets of Quezon City, shrouded in cold silence.

I had no one to walk with; only the moist night air to encircle me.

Of course I think about you. I have a lot of work to do, a lot of plans to try to make, a lot of problems I have to iron out, a lot of friends to catch up with, a lot of deadlines to meet. But it’s you I think of. All the time.

I tried so hard to be part of your life, but it seems I was never allowed to. I am just given this crack from which I could try to extricate trivialities from a distance. All I can do now is think of you.

I wanted to cry for weeks, but for some reason my eyes are holding out like a dam, and the tears are now flooding my entire system internally.

And I couldn’t even write mile-long letters because I am not in the position to say anything.

Whatever turbulence is brewing inside of me now is unbearable.

I never thought it was possible to miss someone who is just seated across from you, but experience made me discover that it is possible.

You just make me feel like in mind and in heart, you may really be somewhere else. That you have a different life to live. That you have no plans of making our two roads intersect at a certain point.

I did not leave. I stayed and waited.

One can only miss someone for so long until one realizes the longing is on its way to permanence.

What one is waiting for is not coming.

lavender-wilwarin

coreenangelicafernandezchan

04/29/2009

04:24am

Ang Ellipsis ay Para sa Walang Kasiguraduhan

2009-04-23T12:13:00.003-07:00

One of my favorite romance movies is Love Affair (and An Affair to Remember, the 1950's version from which it was remade). It never fails to make me shed tears in some of the scenes; it does not, however, make me cry in what's supposed to be the most tear-jerking parts.

Mike and Terry meet again after a long period of separation. Terry tells Mike she came to the place where they were supposed to meet a long time ago when the truth was she met an accident that may forever cripple her on that day, not allowing her to be there. Mike meanwhile maintains that he decided not to come to the place at that time, when he actually was the one who was there, waiting for hours, unmoved by the thunderstorm, unrelenting until the last grain of hope was blown away by the tempest.

They were talking to each other but leaving out the most important things unsaid.

Nakakaiyak ba 'yun? Heartwrenching, poignant, agitating? Excuse me, e kung pag-untugin ko kaya kayo? Bakit ba uso ang paggawa sa sariling problema? May romantic ba dun? Bakit gusto nilang saktan ang mga sarili nila?

I read an opinion somewhere that people choose to accept the hurt because suffering is noble. And that is what makes it romantic.

Hel-lo, bakit ko naman pipiliin 'yun.

MEANWHILE:

I laugh (albeit bitterly) as I realize I have been doing it.

Speak all you want, Coreen, you're not saying anything.

I can say a single thought in five hundred words (maybe more=P), but concerning this, I find myself wanting to deliver an infinite number of words and not being able to utter a single sound.

And yes, I like to wait, and wait, and wait some more. And then deny that I did any of the waiting. And then continue to hope.

And I watch everything slipping, slipping, slipping away.

Not knowing if one is floating, hanging, or in free-fall.

So why do people choose to be this way? Is it romantic? Poetic? Noble?

Right now, I don't feel noble in my suffering.

It's just plain painful.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
04/24/2009
05:17am

e kung ikaw kaya ang i-untog ko, Coreen.=P

The One-Sided Debate

2009-04-10T11:39:00.001-07:00

March 14 of last year.

After that day, I never wanted to even go inside the office washroom. I would take the 15-minute walk to Greenbelt 1 every single time I had to use the CR. During the first days, I would go as often as five times a day, whether I was wearing five-inch heels or flats. It was exhausting.

At times the straps of my sandals would cut into my skin because of the frequent walks to Greenbelt. So I decided not to wear them as often. Then I proceeded to limit my trips to twice a day, and one can just imagine how much I had to control the human need to urinate.

I would drink less so I wouldn’t have to go as often.

My boss thought I was just trying to be weird and that I wouldn’t be able to do it for very long, but I did it every single day for more than five months.

And then I started to feel constant pain at my lower back. Sometimes I had to stay in the office until 4am, and obviously no other establishment would be open at that time, which would mean my last trip to the washroom would probably be at 10pm at the latest. During those times I would feel very cold and clammy and I would feel burning in my lower torso.

But did I go inside the office washroom?

I would wait until I reached home.

My friends at the office began to worry about me after some time. Miyo kept on telling me to go see a doctor (I never did =P), and went as far as to volunteer to walk with me to Greenbelt just to be sure I went when I needed to. They kept on asking me, “Do you need to go to the CR now?” and after some time, “how about now?” because my urinating routine has gone completely out of whack.

After ultimately being scared of the state of my physiological condition, I was finally convinced to use one of the office CRs (the other CR, and not the actual CR in question) with the precondition of someone having to accompany me inside the CR. That I did for all my remaining days in that company.

People just shake their heads. They say I am stubborn beyond belief.

But I’d like to call it the gift of longsuffering.

IN THE SAME REGARD:

I am now in a situation where all the arrows point to the direction opposite to that which I am taking. All buzzers are sounding; the red light is on, screaming: no, no, retreat!

But still I say yes. Go ahead, keep going. Even when I know this may lead nowhere, I still go. Even when it seems like a one-way street, I go.

Even when I don’t think anyone is in this with me, I still go.

Even when my own head is screaming, cautioning me to stop, I go.

Even when most days it inflicts me with uncertainty and confusion and doubt and sometimes even pain, I still consciously choose to go on.

Every single day I wait. Every single day I think and feel. And every single day, even when faced with disappointment and the occasional visits of hurt and feelings of rejection and abandonment, I still choose to believe.

Without a single flimsy thread of assurance thrown my way by which to hold on to, I hold on to thin air with all my might.

It’s painful, yes. But it’s self-inflicted pain because I chose to be here. I don’t know if that makes it less or more painful.

Some people say it’s the gift of longsuffering.

But maybe I’m just really being stubborn beyond belief.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
04/11/2009
02:24am

The Nail Files

2009-04-05T11:03:00.000-07:00

I was walking around the neighborhood a few days back out of sheer boredom and was on a hunt for a place that will do my nails. What should have been a short walk became an excursion on the search for the right place.

I came by around more than seven salons-or-“parlors”-as-most-people-would-call-them in the route I have taken. For some reason or other, I did not enter any of them. One was too crowded, one had nobody inside. One was closed. One was cramped, one’s hygienic practices I doubted. One was too exposed to the street outside, one enforced obscurity measures too tightly. One had too many people loitering outside.

And so I ended up entering this establishment with a relatively recognizable name to have my nails done. The moment they handed me the container of their nail polish, I regretted it. They had maybe five colors to choose from – bad sign. The attendant proceeded to slough off my nailbeds with such violence that more than half of my fingers ended up bleeding even before she could get half of her work done.

Her nail polish application technique was way below satisfactory, the strokes haphazardly spread here and there. Trying to hold in my impending irritation burst, I merely decided to fix my eyes on her hands. Just as I thought: she doesn’t even do her own nails.

Needless to say, I was more than disappointed and annoyed. The name of their establishment cheated me. Nobody has to ask if I would ever return to that place. Not if you had to drag me to that place. Or if grass sprouted out of my nails.

IN LINE WITH THIS:

Always, always, we fall for the appearances of people, places and situations. We believe in what we see. When a less than likeable circumstance presents itself, we quickly dismiss it as a tragedy, without considering its potentials for opportunity. When we see a visually-pleasing person, we immediately attach feelings to the person.

Sometimes, in spending too much time involving oneself in the search of the ideal, we fail to see all that is promising we encounter on the road.

There are also times when even reputation and a good track record would not give one the assurance that one has made the right choice.

There are no guarantees. None.

Risks have to be taken.

And then you get cut. And then you bleed.

But the discovery always makes it worthwhile.

Risks have to be taken.

All the time.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
04/06/2009
01:46am

Project Linguistics

2009-04-02T09:42:00.001-07:00

Oyni na ku na naman pu. Pemagkasakitan ku ne naman ing sarili kung manyulat king Kapampangan. Maging madalas na ata ining pamagpili kung gamitan deng salitang ali ku talaga balung gamitan. Itang daramdaman ku talagang ali ku rin biyasang makisabi, kawangis da reng aliwang tau. Atin na ku na naman sigurung buring sabyan a ali buring sabyan. O ali balu nung makananung sabyan.

Wa, dapat pin ata iluwal ku ne ini.

Sinabi ku dati ali ku manhid. Kaya pin balu ku. Daramdaman kung merimla na ka.

Anyang kanita, awsan mu ku aldo-aldo. Anggiyang nanung network o telepunu gamitan mu, basta awsan mu ku. Kagising mu aku ing i-text mu, bayu ka matudtud aku pa rin. Kayarap mu keng computer aku mu rin ing kasabi mu.

Ot ngeni ata kagigisanan ta nang sabyan king metung at metung.

Ali na ka mamaus. Agyu mu nang ali magtext makananu man kaluwat.

Siguru kabo-boring-an na ka rin kanaku o kaya mababo na kung kasabi ngeni para keka.

Kanita, sabyan mu mung amimiss mu ku ali na ku misingap. Ngeni atin kung pakiramdam a sasabyan me mu ita anti na ning punctuation king sentence, asabi me mu sa.

Sasabyan me mu wari ita uling iisipan mung panenayan keng sabyan mu?

Misan daramdaman ku balamu atsu ka mu ken to be polite. Wa, ali na ku makapaintun salitang malyaring gamitan. Ali ku na balu nung makananu i-describe ing malyari (nung atin ping malalyari) o nung makananu ku dapat panamdaman.

Dinatang ne ba itang iisipan kung malyari a migising ka metung aldo at aisip mung ali mu na ku man talaga buri?

Sana balu mu nung makananu kasakit kanaku ing payagan ing sarili kung mibili king makanining sitwasyun. Lalabanan ku palagi ing mipunta king makanining kabilian.

O neng atsu na ku keni.

Mesambut na ku.

Kaluguran da na ka pin ata talaga.

Nung kapilan pa palage ku ali na makanita ing panamdaman mu.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
04/03/2009
12:32am

Erratum

2009-03-29T11:25:00.000-07:00

I have have been weak. I have been selfish.

Excuse me if you may.

Now moving on...

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
03/30/2009
02:44am

The Tiny, Tiny Box

2009-03-25T13:56:00.001-07:00

People know me. I’m the kind of person who laughs all the time. The kind who laughs at herself and situations. The kind friends can easily cheer up by cracking a corny joke or two, the one who’s almost always guaranteed to chuckle even in the middle of a circumstance that will leave one crying one’s eyes out.

But recently I’ve been having unprompted crying fits. SLSS, I call it: Spontaneous Lacrimal Secretion Syndrome.

It’s not just because I’m currently a bum and contribute nothing in particular at the moment to society.

Maybe I only realized that I’m really, truly lost right now.

And finding my way is not the easiest thing to do.

Because people that matter to me want me to be so many different things. So many different things I never wanted to be.

Perhaps the awareness that I was never really supported – in the true essence of the word – has finally boiled over in my consciousness and I couldn’t ignore it any longer.

I wanted to do so many things. Achieve many things. Nobody understood the things I wanted to do. I am surrounded by all these people who scoff at what simple dreams I had that I guess it came to the point that I myself did not understand what I wanted to do.

I know this may all just be the rants of an angsty twentysomething in her quarterlife crisis. But since no one is available to listen to me right now, I have no choice.

I have wholly supported family and close friends in whatever endeavor it is they wanted to take on. [Okay, to be realistic, there was one instance I did not support a decision. One.] Am I being self-centered for asking for an ounce of that support back?

In this sad state that I am now, memory involuntarily travels back to all those times. At best it was just “Bahala ka, gawin mo ang gusto mo”. It was never “Do it! Galingan mo”.

And somehow, somehow I always manage to fall short in their eyes.

These people I love, they always measure me using some yardstick with units I am unfamiliar of. Or units that do not matter to me.

I almost marched unaccompanied in my grade school graduation. In high school graduation, after the DECS division awarded me The Outstanding Student of Angeles City: “I am so disappointed. You could have done so much more and you know that”. And I cried for a different reason altogether after getting my college diploma.

If I secured an 8-5 job that required me to wear business attire during weekdays, would you be happy for me?

If I did something that required me to sit in an office for most of my day and stopped talking about writing or music or performing arts or shoots, would you finally be proud of me?

If I decided to be single for the rest of my life, will you be satisfied?

If I finally learned how to factor a trinomial, would we be speaking the same language?

If I did something more sensible like everyone else in the family, would you stop making fun of me?

When would it be enough?

Do I have to earn everything?

I have no dreams right now. I don’t know what I want to do in the future.

I am not a little child who cannot make decisions and so blames other people instead, or a whiny teenager who asks for attention, understanding and appreciation. Simply put, at my core is all these people whom I love; and all I want to give them is a measure of happiness. The jumbled-up thesis statement: What would make me happy is their happiness, but what would make them happy would make me unhappy (?!). So I don’t know how that will work out.

I thought I can be anything I wanted to be. But I am living in this tiny, tiny box where I am given only so much room to move in.

I don’t know how to do the things I knew how to do before anymore. So maybe, the box succeeded in reducing me to this person who can do nothing special and who knows nothing special.

It is so suffocating living this way.

If I were writing on real paper, none of these would be read. It would all be obscured by tear stains.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
03/26/2009
04:12am

I am hoping this is just PMS. Or post-resignation depression, as Lauren puts it.

Pure Loathing

2009-03-11T01:40:00.000-07:00

Right now, a single well-known love song keeps coming to mind: I'd Rather Leave While I'm In Love.

The bile is rising up to my throat.

The resentment, disgust, hurt, disappointment and anger is rising up to my throat.

And no amount of self-inflicted pointless physical weariness, no amount of forays in beautiful shoe stores, no amount of chocolate could try to level down or control the bile.

I never thought I would reach this number of negative emotions towards them. And it really is such a record-breaking feat knowing what level of anger I had with the system I was in before theirs. This stage must be beyond over-quota.

My friends make me remember the good times. The times when I would blog about the exciting adventures, I would share funny or inspiring anecdotes I collected while on the job. But somehow I don't remember those days anymore. Or I may remember the experiences without actually remembering how it felt.

I have nothing more to hold on to now other than frustration and disappointment and disbelief and repulsion and disgust and anger and all the other verbs that [shift+F7] will deliver from these words.

And outrage.

I have no inkling of a good feeling left towards them.

Really now, I should have left while I was still in love.

ayus, parang break-up a.=P

lavender-wilwarin
coreeenangelicafernandezchan
03/12/2009
08:31pm

The Crybaby is at it Again

2009-03-08T12:45:00.000-07:00

The not-so-little crybaby suddenly suppresses uncalled-for tears as she sits in the front seat of the rented vehicle.

Oh yes, it has been a habit of mine to cry at the most unexpected moments. Another one of the reasons why my friends think I'm crazy.=P

But it was a welcome moment, that moment that triggered my lacrimal glands, as it was refreshingly brought about by positive emotions.

I was having a talk with the driver, the typical high-testosterone-I-have-a-gun-and-you-will-obey-me man, on the way home. When I asked him about his children, his voice softened immediately.

"Dalawa dapat ang anak ko ma'am, e. 'Yung isa namatay pagkapanganak."

"Nasa Kuwait ako noon, naramdaman ko talaga parang may mali, e. Pumunta ako sa office namin, nakikibalita sa pamilya ko sa Pilipinas."

"Hindi naman ako makauwi dahil sa kontrata."

"Ang sarap siguro ng may maraming anak, ano ma'am."

"Naku 'yung anak ko ma'am, noong bata yun umiiyak pa yun kapag hindi mo naisasama, ngayon kahit pilitin mong sumama sa'yo hindi na sasama. May sarili nang lakad."

Making sure he wouldn't notice, I glanced at him in time to see his eyes twinkle as he remembered his daughter, a smile on my lips. I quickly looked away, directing my eyes to the street in front of me.

Fathers like him exist.

Fathers who always put their families first. Fathers who take care of their children and who would do everything for them. Fathers who remember their children countless times as they go about their work daily.

Fathers who do not forget children they weren't even able to spend time with because they were separated by oceans and the need to provide a more promising future for the family.

Fathers who knew how to love and were not ashamed of it.

My vision of EDSA blurred as tears blurred my eyesight. But I was smiling. I quickly blinked back the tears. It was a good thing night was falling.

And so I pretended to cough to have an explanation for my nasal speech. "Kuya, diyan na lang po ako."

It was a short conversation as we traversed EDSA, but I would remember those words. It gave me affirmation that there are good men in this world. It encouraged me to hope. For whatever it is I should be hoping for.

Maybe, to hope that there are a lot more loving and responsible heads of the family than I think there are.

Thank God for good fathers.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
03/10/2009
03:19am

Akala ko ba, "Cheaters Never Win"?

2009-02-22T08:16:00.005-08:00

I was under direct instructions to write about this issue. I, for one, would not be an authority on the subject, as I have never experienced being cheated on per se (since I have never been in a romantic relationship in the first place =P), but being that:

my dad cheated on my mom even before I was born and so I have been living with it for longer than my lifetime,
my grandfather has a number of children with different women (whom I met during his wake) which makes the family tree completely tangled up,
I've been courted by a person whom I discovered already had a relationship at that time with my orgmate (who also happens to be my bestfriend's cousin),
I've been courted by a person whom I discovered was also courting another GUY (noooooooo!) at the same time,
I've been told "I love you" many times by this person who lives far away while he keeps on going out with different women; and when a friend asks why this is so, he answers, "I'm enjoying my singlehood",

among other very colorful experiences (other than the constant dose of stories from everyone), I guess I would have enough to say about it.=))

So why, why do cheaters still appear to win even when the clichéd adage says they never do?

Maybe because people tolerate them.

He didn't mean to do it. Maybe it was just a slip. He deeply regrets it now. He says he won't do it again. He says he has no feelings towards the other girl. He says it's you he really loves. He says you've been so busy and so he felt neglected (?!). And all other variations.

Excuses. Excuses that you accept, perhaps even a little bit too willingly and immediately.

Yes, he says all these things. He can explain everything (or keep silent and explain nothing). But let's not forget that this is also the person who could've said he's spending time with the other person, but didn't. So why is he saying all of this now, after he's gone out with her for how many times without your knowledge, when he could've told you before the first time he did?

The truth is, he wanted to do it. He could have not let himself be exposed to temptation, but he chose to be. He could have told you, but chose not to. He could have ended it while he can, but did not.

The truth is, he knew what he was doing would hurt you but did it anyway. The truth is, he may say he loves you, but perhaps not enough to consider how terrible you would feel after he did it.

Whatever happened to loyalty, commitment; to respect?

I am not saying these people should never be forgiven or given another chance, because at one point they should be (forgiven, at least. haha). But as with anything worthwhile in this world, it takes time. Let it marinate for a bit, give yourself enough time to see the big picture for what it really is. Deal with what happened and the emotions that are borne from it.

Because at the end of the day, what is important is that you keep your loyalty to your own principles, your commitment to knowing your worth and not being shortchanged, and ultimately, your self-respect.

Because difficult as it may be, as long as you manage to keep yourself intact after the experience, cheaters will never win.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
02/23/2009
01:35am

HAPPY THOUGHT: I have never allowed myself to be in a relationship tainted with cheating...
But then again, I have never allowed myself to be in a relationship, period [so ano uli ang happy thought dun].=))

A Litany While Waiting

2009-02-13T02:40:00.000-08:00

At least they got my name right. At least one right thing happened in this place today.

I have been waiting for 58 minutes for this person who doesn't even know where I am. I wouldn't even know if he has the concrete knowledge that I am waiting for him.

A group of people barges in and my thoughts and sulking are interrupted by the constant quiet noise their conversations make. I am now unable to discern whether their energetic buzzing is really irritating or I am merely irritated by the lack of someone here to talk to.

*oh my goodness, I suddenly have the urge to cry*

I slowly eat my too-creamy cheesecake bite after small bite and drink the frappuccino ever so discretely in the hopes of extending their life on the table where I am sitting alone with an empty chair in front of me. It’s chocolate with mint, by the way, the frap I’m drinking. A barista once told my bestfriend it’s good for depression.

My phone beeps. I jump. My insides churn until I almost feel sick the moment I see your name on the upper-left hand corner of the screen. There is this sensation of wanting to jump out of my own skin just at the thought that you remembered me and finally know where I am.

It’s pathetic, I know. I am morphing into this pathetic needy person who misses you but still tries her very best to withhold any inkling as to the state of her feelings towards you.

Why is it that I still choose to say nothing even on the verge of losing something that I’m supposed to want to have? Why is it that I choose to do something only when the tables have turned and whatever I might do or say will not be received in the same way anymore?

It’s like I always serve soup when my dinner guest is starving and steak when it’s time for dessert. I return to the table with the serving tray full of all the sweet stuff and find that my guest has already left.

I’m crazy, pathetic, and completely off-timing in that way.

And still I sit here, waiting, for an hour and 55 minutes without the slightest idea of whether you’re on your way or will take another two hours or wouldn’t be able to make it after all.

I choked on the huge chunk of cheesecake I forced to swallow. All the other people came and went, with the exception of the few who are not yet finished debating on the route they will take on the way home.

What time does this place close up anyway?

I don’t remember the last time I waited this long for someone. I, the ever-impatient-play-by-the-rules girl, have waited for someone for two hours and three minutes now.

I make people wait, I have realized that. And then when they get tired and all seems to be lost I wait for them, for longer and longer periods of time, periods of time which these people don’t even realize are periods of time spent waiting for them.

What is the whole point of it all?

Why is it that everything has to be difficult? Why do I have to make everything difficult?

I still want to cry. For a lot of reasons and for no reason at all. Because I don’t seem to get past myself. Because I did this to myself.

Oh no, so now comes the part of self-bashing.

I don’t know. I really don’t know anymore.

I don’t know if it’s the frappuccino taking effect on my body temperature, the length of the miniskirt I’m wearing, or the maintenance people lowering the temperature of the air conditioner to emphasize that it’s closing time, but I feel cold. Really, really cold.

I am suppressing the shivers and in the process feel my stiff torso become heavy. And it should be heavier now, with my leaden heart trying to reach the floor at the summons of gravity.

How many words have I already written here, waiting for you? I told myself I wouldn’t stop writing until you came, and so now I have filled four notebook pages.

And the droning goes on and on and I don’t make any sense anymore.

But I still sit here and drum my fingers on the pages of my notebook. My throat feels so stuffy and sticky from all the sugar I have ingested.

You said you were on your way. How many minutes ago was that?

And what time is this place really closing up?

The guard enters the establishment, maintenance sweeps up. The baristas make loud clinking noises with the utensils and less-than-accidentally bang the counters too vigorously.

I cough.

Where are you?

How long does it take traveling from the street down the block to this place?

How many times would I want to cry in this solitary sitting position of mine?

You arrive after two hours and 26 minutes. I rest my case.

lavender-wilwarin

coreenangelicafernandezchan

02/11/2009

11:27pm

so asan pala ang happy thought dun?

Racing Cars with Boys

2009-02-11T10:50:00.000-08:00

At the Carmona Race Track, there are no children. Only little people who are all driven with speed and ambition.

My colleague asked me, if I had a child in the future who wants to get into racing, will I let him? My answer was immediate and emphatic: of course not!

Those kids regard kart racing as their job and devote what childhood they're supposed to be experiencing to a timetable of training.

Hours on the race track. Three times a week at the gym. Daily training before the competition. Watching the diet before the race. Missing school.

I couldn't imagine an eight-year-old being involved in all of that. Not to mention the danger that might just happen every single race. If I had a child who races, I'd probably have palpitation attacks and hyperventilation fits every second he's on the track.

But then I got to interview the father of the racer, and it gave a whole other dimension to the story.

He says, racing teaches a lot of things to children. They learn to focus and be responsible. They learn to be in control. They learn patience. They learn to go for what they want.

They learn not to be afraid.

But what I would always remember was what he said when I asked him what his dream for his son is.

"My dream is for him to get his dreams. I have no dream for him, I only want him to reach whatever it is he wants. I will support him to reach his dreams."

Maybe, just maybe, if I had a child who discovers an interest in racing, if only to teach him not to be afraid (moreso maybe to teach myself), I just might let him.

...But then if he's just eight years old... [hahaha.]

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
02/10/2009
10:13pm

If I had been a racer as a child, would I not be afraid now?

Eating Chocolate Cake

2009-02-06T06:12:00.001-08:00

Overeating is bad. Overeating with chocolate is even worse. Breeding mutant pimples is the worst.

Obviously, I don't like myself right now.

Wallowing in not-so-good circumstances which I have set myself seems to occur more often these days.

*takes a bite of chocolate cake, yumyum*

Okay, I'm happy now.

Haha, I wish. I wish it were so easy and I so schizophrenic as to shift from negative to positive like turning on a switch.

When was the last time I wrote and wrote so vigorously that I was not thinking at all while doing so? I guess around the time I wrote very long handwritten letters, and delivered caramel sundaes to sad friends, and danced, and dared, and walked in the rain, and sat quietly to look at the sky.

I miss me.

*takes another bite - make that two - of the chocolate cake. Feeling better even just in the smallest measure*

One stubborn thing about me is that I am not a giver-upper.

Thank God.

I may have to wrest with my current self, but I will not stop until I regain my balance. Sometimes, the trouble with adding years to one's age is that one gets lost in priorities and situations that make one forget the things one really wants to do, the innocent, unadulterated dreams one wants to achieve.

I refuse to be forgetful.

I am beginning a habit [and discipline] of writing everyday. Yesterday I wrote a tanaga, today a haiku. I am inching my way back very slowly in the hopes of rediscovering how it is to be a writer; when words and imagination are your best friends, when your pen can get across more than what the senses can experience.

*finishes up the chocolate cake*

Chocolate cake is very, very good.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
02/06/2008
06:15pm

tanong lang

2009-02-02T10:40:00.000-08:00

Dapat ba talaga, mahirap magmahal ng artist?

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
02/03/2008
02:51am

okay, sino'ng hindi makatulog nito.

the 2009 someday, maybe, to-do checklist

2009-02-02T08:13:00.000-08:00

I think I wouldn't come around to doing this stuff unless I attach it to some kind of responsibility. So let this blog be my accountability partner in trying to do all I want to do this year.

And so, partially, here's how I hope to spend my 2009:

Find a job that will make me happy. Seriously now.:)
Make better health choices.
Take music lessons. And about time I learned, too.
Be part of a theater production.
Get my hands dirty in shoots. I miss the exhileration of being haggard and having no sleep and seeing things unfold before me, usually taking shape unlike any one has imagined.
Reprogram my body clock. (Now that would be hard. I've been working around this body clock since I was about 12, and it only got worse from there.=P)
Reconnect with old friends, strengthen the bond between new friends.
Go to at least three places I haven't been to before.
Read more. Read at least 20 new books this year (I have this habit of constantly re-reading books that I have already read).
Write. For real. Not blog writing or PR writing. Not doing so for the longest time makes me feel that I only imagine me being a writer.=P
Ease myself into taking more responsibility and commitment (I just realized I have issues.=P)
Find myself a sport or some physical activity besides walking. learn how to bike, maybe? [Now that's ambitious.:))]
Save up for the future. ;)
Dance.
Sing.
Love.
Find "me".

There will be more to come. Hope to have ticked most of this off by January 2010.=P
Eleven months to go!

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
02/03/2009
01:48am

pahirapan

2009-01-31T11:04:00.000-08:00

eku talaga biyasang mangapampangan, susulat man o sasabyan. so siguru anggiyang aku ali ku ne rin anitindyan ing sinulat ku kayari na ning pilang minutu.

masakit pin.

balamu magsulat kapampangan.

makananu nung marakal na ka buring sabyan pero ali mu pa agawa kasi palage mu ali pa panaun? kaybat bala na ning buri mung pakisabyan bisa ka mu talagang magpakasakit. kaybat meg-aliwa na la reng bage-bage uling pin ala na ka mang sasabyan ampong ala ya ring buring sabyan keka. kaybat palage mu ali me aintindiyan nung nanu wari talagang buri nang sabyan keka o nung atin ya ba talagang buring sabyan. kaybat ali mu na talaga aintindiyan ing buong sitwasyun.

makasakit talaga buntuk.

balamu kapampangan.

patse magsulat kung kapampangan balamu bisa ya talagang dumaya ing arung ku. pero nung balu mu mu, ining malyari ngeni, mas masakit pa. ali ku misingap. balang minutu ata aiisip da ka, kaybat deng aliwang minutung ali daka iisipan, deta reng minutung iisipan kung buong aldo da na kang inisip pero balu kung ali mu ku man aganaka anggiyang metung minutu na ning aldong ita.

king kapampangan, adwa la reng buri nang sabyan ning salitang "masakit", dependi king stress. Ating ing diin ketang pang-adwang syllable, itang metung king pang-atlung syllable ya ing diin.

parehu ku lang panandaman ngeni.

masakit at masakit.

ot kaya bala da reng aliwang tau manhid ku o marimla ku mu talaga daya. nung balu da mu nung nanung dadala ku. ali ku manhid. daramdaman da ka.

nung balu da mu.

nung balu mu mu.

mangapakiyak na ku keni, ne.

ali ku na balu nung mangapakiyak ku uli na ning pamakasakit kung magsulat king kapampangan, o uli mu.

patse sasabyan ku kekang mangapakiyak ku, a malapit mu na kung pakiyakan, o apakiyakan mu ku, ali ku mag-joke kanita.

sabi ku ali na ku manyulat king kapampangan pasibayu, pero gagawan ku naman ngeni.

sabi ku ali ku buring ali aku ing in control; ot pipilinan kung maging makanini ngeni. ot agagawa mu kanaku ini.

hay, ot dapat pang maging masakit at masakit.

balamu kapampangan.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
02/01/2009
03:34am

agit

2009-01-17T07:29:00.000-08:00

So now I have progressed to counting the minutes (as compared to counting days in previous situations).

Counting the minutes?!

This is not very good.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
01/17/2009
11:44pm

the 2008 checklist

2009-01-13T10:23:00.000-08:00

I rarely follow through writing in a planner regularly. But as I leaf through my 2008 planner, I remember that there are some stuff i did write. On the 2008 Goals list.

It's time to tick them off:

PERSONAL GOALS
- acquire new knowledge. (Uhhh, not really sure if I did get to acquire new knowledge from a specific body of whatever. But i guess after all that's happened, i did learn some.)

* I was able to interact with a lot of different people this year: visual artists, social activists, musicians, teachers, student leaders, administrators, children, dreamers, cynics. It is always rewarding to be able to listen to people as they share a bit of themselves to you.

CAREER GOALS
- be a productive member of the team (check!)
- find an alternative income-generating activity to supplement regular job (Now doing freelance writing)

*I realized there are a lot of other things I can do and learn to do. Explore, sift, and choose the ones that would give the most happiness and fulfillment.

PLACES TO GO
- Batanes (Hahahahahahahahaha)
- HongKong Disneyland (And a bigger HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA)

*The only new places i went to this year (from what I remember) are Nagcarlan, Biak na Bato and Mt. Banahaw. I really should go out more often.:))

GOOD HABITS TO START
- consistent productivity (There is a degree of productivity I'd like to think I managed to maintain. But there is more to do. More tamaditis to zap.=P)
- more effective time management (Where does one find a discipline mentor?=P)

*Discipline. I do need it.:) The intention is there. Now comes the labor part.=P

BAD HABITS TO BREAK
- TARDINESS [and it was really written in all caps:))] (No comment. hahaha.)
- the urge to splurge (What is there to splurge?=P)

*Says Chicago's song: you're a hard habit to break.:)) Someone hit me with a rod, if that's the price of discipline... On second thought, let me try again na lang.:))

HEALTH GOALS
- get back my 110 lb-weight and maintain it (I am now 113 lbs., the lightest I got since 2nd year college. I don't think I want to reach 110.=P)
- exercise at least three times a week (This year, I had about three periods of exercise hype: I would exercise everyday, sometimes even twice a day; for about two weeks. And then I stop.:)) But I do manage to walk for at least 30minutes daily.)
- always drink vitamins (I think I did this for a week and then completely forgot about it.)

*Health is most often the overlooked aspect. Let me correct my vision.=P

FINANCIAL GOALS
- have real savings (Well I guess we have to write this for 2009 as well.=P)

*I won't be young, single, and a semi-dependent forever. I'll have to work on this.

There is little that I wrote in that planner, but I'd like to think I'd made some progress, even if just in a small degree.

Anyway, that year has passed, and I have an entire year ahead of me.

What I do remember vividly, though, is that I mentioned at the start of last year in this blog that my 2008 will be a year of love.

Whatever happened to that?!=P

Every year is a year of love.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
01/15/2009
03:06am

Pagtutuos

2009-01-04T09:04:00.000-08:00

Ano nga bang ginawa ko noong nakaraang taon? Anu-ano ang mga bago at hindi gaanong bagong mga kaganapan ang napagdaanan at kinapulutan ng maraming halakhak at hagulgol, pinag-usapan at dinissect ng mga kaibigan sa kung saang coffeeshop, kainan, o sa ilalim ng puno sa kanto, at nilaman ng blog na ito?

Sa abot ng aking makakaya, heto ang ledger ng aking 2008:

ENERO
Nag-iba ang composition ng Chopsuey team. Naging co-SP ko na si Miyo at PC na si Ethel. Nawala na si JV. Marami nang usap-usapan ng pag-alis sa kumpanya. Nagkaroon ng anomalya sa opisina, may tambay na NBI sa lobby araw-araw, pinapag-log-in at log-out na ang mga empleyado, at dumating sa puntong gusto nilang i-inspect ang mga bag namin bago lumabas ng office.

PEBRERO
Ang My Phone-y Valentine School Tour kung saan haggard na haggard kaming nagdeliver ng mga bulaklak sa mga estudyante around campuses: paakyat ng fourth floor, sa kabilang building, sa kabilang daan, sa office of the president. Buong Pebrero ay nilibot namin ang Kamaynilaan para i-deliver ang bulaklak ng mga estudyante sa mga itinatangi nila. Pero ako hindi nakatanggap ni isang bulaklak sa buwan na ito (maliban sa mga bulaklak na pinapadala ni Miyo para mag-quota na kami =P). For the 21st February of my life.

MARSO
One of the not-so-good-months. Actually, on the running for the worst month of the year. Nag-off-the-air ang channel. "Pinagpahinga" ang ilan sa mga empleyado. Hanggang ngayon hindi pa sila pinababalik. May isa pa akong napakapangit na karanasan which almost drove me to leave the company. Pero pagkatapos ng maraming maraming luha at nakatutuliling sigawan, hindi rin ako umalis. Nonetheless, I would never forget March 14 of this year. The last time I ever stayed overnight at the office.

ABRIL
Patuloy na nagshoot ang Chopsuey para magbangko ng mga segments kahit hindi kami umeere. Kinailangan ko na halos i-record ang spiel ko na "We're currently off the air right now chova chova" sa dami ng beses kong pinaulit-ulit.

MAYO
Sa sobrang pagkabato ko sa mga panahong ito ay may mga araw na pumapasok ako ng opisina na kulot ang buhok at naka-vacation outfit.:)) Dalawang magkasunod na summer itong wala akong pinuntahan kahit saan at ni hindi ako nakalapit sa kahit anong semblance ng body of water... puwera na lang kung counted ang pool.:)) Fineature ko ang UPSA sa kanilang farewell concert para sa kanilang 6^th European Concert Tours and Competitions; nagkaroon na naman tuloy ako ng overwhelming yearning to sing.

HUNYO
Bumalik na sa ere ang channel, yehey.:)) At may pakulo pa ang Associate Producer namin na magkaroon ng “segment competitions”: magproduce ng manok segment ang mga SP, na kailangan matapatan ang ipo-produce ng AP. Malungkot din ang buwan dahil nagresign ang aking co-SP and close friend Lauren. Pero lumigaya naman ang buhay niya after so masaya lang.

HULYO
Driven by my overwhelming yearning to sing (see Mayo =P), napasugod lang ako sa isang audition na aking nabasa kung saan. I promptly forgot about it since I didn't hear from the people for quite some time. Instead ay nagpaka-friendly-SP-na-nagiging-mataray-kapag-hindi-pinakikinggan ako sa isa na namang school tour ng kompanya. We worked 22-hour days (umuwi ako no matter what) at naging periodic din ang pagsabi ko ng "are you listening?" sa mga may Attention Deficit Disorder na mga estudyante.:)) ...until I did hear from the audition people.

AGOSTO
Isang shock ang unang araw ng buwan dahil nakatanggap na lamang ako ng phonecall na nagsasabing naaksidente daw ang ate ko at kasalukuyang nasa Makati Med. May mga luha din, pero sa biyaya ng Diyos ay wala namang seryosong pinsala (maliban sa 30 stitches sa noo na pilat na ngayon) at pinagtatawanan na lang namin ngayon. Dahil nga sa nakatanggap na ako ng mabuting balita mula sa audition episode ko noong Hulyo ay tuloy na ang pag-endeavor ko sa isang indie film.:)) Shoot at rehearsals month ang buwang ito. Nakakilala ng mga bagong kaibigan, nakapunta sa mga bagong lugar, naka-awit ng bagong mga kanta, nakarinig ng bagong mga kuwento, nakapagsuot ng mga makakati, maiinit pero magagandang mga costumes, nakasakay sa karitela ng kalabaw, a.k.a. roller coaster sa kabukiran, naulanan at naputikan sa itaas ng burol habang nagtatawanan ang lahat at nagtampisaw sa batis sa tabi ng puno ng sampaloc kaya masaya talaga ang buwang ito. Now that I look back, this is one of the rare Happy Augusts.

SETYEMBRE
Ninais kong maging isang mabuting SP bilang maraming beses din akong naging MIA. Sessionistas month sa opisina kaya't nasa Greenhills parking lot kami tuwing Biyernes at nag-iinterview, nakikinig, at nagko-cover ng mga banda. Nagkaroon kami ng palmcard obssession ni Miyo na siyang tanging bumubuhay sa loob namin noong last days. Iyon at ang very animated display of voice talent skills nina Tunang at Felix kapag nasa van pauwi.:)) Nagpatuloy ang contest segments pagkatapos ng mahabang panahon ng pagkalimot. May raising-the-bar campaign na naman kami sa programa. Nakatutuwa dahil ito ang panahong na-discover ko na hindi pa pala tuluyang namatay ang lahat ng creativity neurons ko, may mga nagtatago pa sa sulok-sulok at naghihintay na gisingin ko mula sa matagal na pagkakahimbing. Naging finalist sa CMMA ang programa naming Chopsuey.

OKTUBRE
Nawala sa ere ang channel sa pangalawang devastating na pagkakataon. Nagkaroon ng mass retrenchment at nawala ang lahat ng mga mababait at masisipag na tao sa opisina. Naiwan ako. Isang malaking dreary box ng kalungkutan ang opisina. Naging undefined ang job description ko, dahil technically hindi na ako segment producer. Dahil for some reason hindi ko maiwan-iwanan abruptly ang kumpanyang "kapareho ko ng advocacy" ay kumuha na lang ako ng freelance job bilang writer.

NOBYEMBRE
SP stands for Super Pasaway. 'Yun lang.

DISYEMBRE
Screening ng film na aking kinabibilangan, ang Kolorete. Sa awarding, naiuwi nito ang Best Production Design, Best Musical Score at Special Jury Prize. Masaya ang lahat sa tagumpay ng pelikula, pero personally mas masaya ako sa mga bagong friendships forged by the project. Winakasan ko ang siyam na buwan ng walang katuturang paghihintay. Nagbukas ng bagong mga pinto. Pinlanong umalis sa dreary gray box. Nakipagbati sa bestfriend ko. Kumanta sa kasal. Nakapiling ang mga dating kaibigan, bagong kaibigan, matandang kaibigan, batang kaibigan at mga mapagmahal na pamilya.

Whatever happens, it's all good.

It's always good when you get some learning out of it.

It's always good when you have good people who love you around.

Looking forward to 2009!

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
01/09/2009
08:11pm

proof

2008-12-22T02:45:00.000-08:00

I am not numb.

If I were, I wouldn't have freaked out when it happened.

If I were, I wouldn't have struggled [in vain] with the circumstance you prescribed.

If I were, I wouldn't be frustrated everytime you misunderstood what I said.

If I were, I wouldn't be thinking about it. Thinking about you. Smiling to myself at some recollections of random things you say.

If I were, I shouldn't be feeling.

I really shouldn't be.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
12/22/2008
06:43pm

Upos

2008-12-16T03:39:00.000-08:00

It's over.

And the saddest part, I guess, is that it failed to elicit any sort of emotion from me, negative or otherwise.

It has been (and I need to calculate) around three weeks [?] since our last exchange of words. The weird thing is that I am not missing it at all, if I even notice the absence of it. Strange, being that it has been habit, routine, for about nine months now.

Nine months.

I waited.

I gave you the chance.

I tried to get to know you.

I tried to let you know who I am.

But after nine months, I realized I wasted my time waiting as you did not even try to get to know me in the same way that you did not let me get to know you. And so the chance is wasted.

I let it drag on for months, letting the teeny-tiniest ember convince me that it might be the start of a spark. But it was not. And now it's completely dead in the cold.

I do not need someone to be there just because he's bored and has nothing else to do. I do not need someone who's only there to try to practice communication skills on me. I do not need someone who's there just because he's hanging around and doesn't have a plan. I do not need someone to be there just because it's routine.

I do not need someone who seems to be uncapable of feeling. It can be contagious.

It was pointless from the very beginning, because you did not want it to have a point; no matter how I tried to figure out a point. And if I have any sort of feeling regarding the ending, it would only be frustration at the state of indifference I have towards it.

Aaaaaaaargh!

I do not want to be cold and numb.

Someone pinch me and make me feel.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
12/15/2008
04:54pm

Item #1: On Singlehood

2008-11-23T09:49:00.000-08:00

I had a consistent stand on this.

The time has not yet come. I am not ready. I don't need to be un-single. I have an aversion towards the idea.

And I survived.

Does that mean that is how I preferred things?

I thought so.

Some days ago I went to the doctor to have my ears checked. I was alone. And I was perfectly fine with that (or so I told myself).

And everybody else had someone with them. When I went inside the doctor's clinic, he asked me, "May kasama ka?" Maybe he thought I would need someone to hold my hand or something as he did whatever he had to do. But I didn't need to have that, and told him I was perfectly fine.

Oh yes, I was trying to be brave. Everyone knows I have the capacity to be relentlessly stubborn, and so I would not show I needed anything if I can help it.

And then I wondered.

I wondered how it felt to have someone there with me.

I wondered how it felt to have someone who will be relieved to know that my hearing will finally be restored and I will not be deaf permanently.

I wondered how it felt to have someone who really cared.

(Someone, of course, was not pertaining to my mother. Moving on...)

I wondered how it felt to be concerned about someone and to know that your concern matters to that someone; that you can help that someone just by being there.

I wondered how it felt to have someone who will always be there even when you tell him you don't want him to be there, just because he knows you need him.

I wondered how it felt to have someone.

One of my high school friends is finally getting married to her long-term significant other. It brought forth bursting happiness to all of us.

Sometimes it works.

Sometimes one finds it.

As for me, I'm sitting here.

Wondering.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
11/24/2008
02:57am

Sugod Lang

2008-10-30T23:46:00.000-07:00

There are two ways to go along the road.

One is to carefully plan the itinerary, making sure to pass the right route towards the destination. This entails stopping a lot of times to check the map, ask people around for directions, and survey if the path is correct.

The other is to constantly move forward, trusting the instincts while not being completely sure about the path taken; just with the knowledge that it generally leads to the direction of the destination.

It’s nice to be organized and to have everything thought-out, but sometimes it’s even better to discover things by exploring what the fork in the road offers.

During our university graduation rites, our class valedictorian talked about not taking the road less traveled, but rather to make our own paths; to go through the thorny, unsafe, unpredictable terrain to discover better paths. To blaze our own trails.

The journey provides the depth, discovery, understanding, change and insight in learning. The destination is just the icing on the cake.

Last week, I took a chance and explored a different route.

And for the first time in a very long time, I was called “writer”.

It put my navigating instincts in a different perspective. It allowed me a view of the broader world that I can take on. Even in a small way, it made me believe that I can do so many other things. I can be so much more.

Adventure. Where will it take you next?

Watching your own story unfold before you is much more exciting than trying to make sure you write it perfectly.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
10/31/2008
2:57am

Crash

2008-10-18T06:22:00.000-07:00

It hurt so much I couldn’t even bring myself to write about it.

But tonight, I force myself to let it all out. I have to shake myself from the traumatic stress the crash has brought upon us and function with a clear mind.

Have you ever stuck to something even when the odds didn’t look good because you believed in it with all your heart?

Have you heard even the people closest to you taunt you for making decisions that to them seem plain stupid?

Have you felt your productive capacities rot away in your stubborn decision to stick it out in the hopes of being able to use them tomorrow?

I did nothing but believe in that vision.

Even when I was not being compensated properly for what I put in, I believed in the vision.

Even when it was evident that the company was not being handled properly, I believed in the vision.

Even when nobody seemed to know what the company was all about and nobody seemed to be able to watch any of our output, I believed in the vision.

Even when everybody stopped believing, I believed in the vision.

Everybody. Stopped. Believing.

And I held on to the vision, and I fiercely believed with all my heart that even if I was the only one to remain believing, it would be enough to slowly see it happen.

Until the vision died.

My mother once told me that if you catch the vision, it means that it’s real; and that it can become real. So at the risk of sounding like a naïve idealist who doesn’t know what the real world is like, I ask, why didn’t the vision become real?

Maybe I was one of the handful who caught the vision, and the vision was too big for us to carry, and one by one they decided to let go.

Until the vision went crash!

It hurts when the vision topples over you. There can be no struggle anymore. Because the moment that happens, it becomes clear that defeat has come. There is nothing left to fight for.

I will not argue anymore.

The level of passion with which I held on to the vision is now opposed by the same level of passivity with which I let go.

I try to sift through the debris in the hopes of still being able to find the hope I had within me.

I will rebuild.

In another way, with other plans, with other hopes and dreams.

Because whatever happens, however hard it gets, I will never believe in defeat.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
10/18/2008
5:49pm

Payoff

2008-10-03T00:03:00.000-07:00

It is true that the waiting can be very long.

But it’s also true that when you do something right, when you do something good, you will see it bear fruit, no matter how long the waiting.

Finally, after all the waiting, it comes.

After all the wondering

if there’s sense in what I do,

if I affect in however small degree even the nuclear society I am in,

if there is quality in what I do,

if I contribute to making things better even in the minutest measure;

here it comes.

Our program Chopsuey is a finalist at the 2008 Catholic Mass Media Awards (CMMA).

Some people may find it trivial or mundane, but knowing that our experimental baby, which airs in some cable channel most people find obscure, was able to surface from the shadows being cast by giant TV networks gives me great joy and satisfaction.

The team is now motivated as ever. Our last ‘segment competition’ (a friendly game participated in by our program’s associate producer and segment producers) yielded very good results.

That competition day, the cameraman who was relatively new to the team came to the office for a shoot.

“Kilala mo na ba si Coreen?” asks our associate producer (AP).

“Yes, sir. Mabait ‘yan sir,” answers our cameraman.

“Anong mabait? Kapag inirap-irapan ka na niyan malalaman mong maldita ‘yan!” jokes our AP.

And he continues, “Pero magaling ‘yan. Galing, galing.”

Finally, after the longest time of feeling inadequate, I hear approval.

Suddenly, I don’t seem so lost anymore.

The sparks rekindle the embers.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
09/30/2008
01:30am

What Next

2008-09-13T08:14:00.000-07:00

And did I honestly think things will be exactly as they were after I did that?

Doing the project roused something in me.

It made me question: am I where I’m supposed to be?

I don’t know if it’s just the general dissatisfaction in the management, the system, or the constant urge to do something creative that has me feeling restless.

I know I want what I’m doing. I want to utilize the power of the media to affect change. However, sometimes it’s so easy to lose track when you don’t see if what you do really does contribute in some way to positive change.

And now came the project. I was able to interact with a different group of people who have a different take on things. Unpredictable and out-of-the-ordinary ideas fly around as they converse and one is left with a reflective, if not inspired, view of what is out there. My belief that what makes actors brilliant is their intelligence was reaffirmed in every single conversation I was part of or happened to listen to. It was intellectually-stimulating just to be with them.

A lot of voices in my head. Things people around me tell me. All of them saying different things. Contrasting opinions.

“You should do more theater. Do something for your soul.”

“Kukuha-kuha ka ng Broad Comm tapos diyan mo pala gusto. Gusto mo namang kumuha ng music ngayon?”

“With that open face that can easily register emotions with the right technique? You will get lead roles by the time you’re 25.”

“Ewan ko lang, ha. Hindi kasi ako radikal.”

“Hindi ko sasabihin kung hindi ko nakita. Do theater.”

Everything’s all muddled. I don’t know what I want anymore.

This is what I know:

- I cannot work in clockwork fashion without exposure and involvement in art;

and,

- I cannot imagine myself working solely in art at the risk of being detached, however so slightly, with reality.

Can one really have the best of both worlds?

People always tell me I’m passionate. Right now I’m still re-figuring out what this passion is for.

I’m young. It’s what young people do (I think. I hope).

I look forward to that glorious day when I’ll be able to strike the balance, to be where I’m really supposed to be. To burn unhindered in that place where I ought to give my all.

Tomorrow becomes clearer when the mind contemplates in tranquility.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
09/08/2008
02:52am

Let me figure this out.=P

Willpower

2008-08-18T15:58:00.000-07:00

The longest time I got by without eating chocolate was three months. It was for my very first major concert with UPSA. It was also the Christmas season, when chocolate and every other kind of wonderful sweet thing abound in enormous proportions. Each day I reminded myself that my voice was far from concert-ready at UPSA-level, and each day I did not falter with the firm resolve that I will not touch that dark instrument of temporary happiness.

I haven’t been able to break that record since.

I was not supposed to eat chocolate this month. I have singing to do. But I cheated. I ate chocolate chip cookies when my sister had an accident. I reasoned that the chocolate in the cookies was not concentrated enough to damage my voice. Yesterday I learned that the next shoot (with the singing parts) would not be until next week, and I broke down.

I ate two huge blocks of creamy, nougat-y, piercingly-sweet sinful Toblerone.

I remember how the two of you looked at each other. I remember how your arms brushed against each other and stayed in position for a full five seconds.

I remember how you haven’t been texting me again for the past five days.

And that was how I came about munching on the enemy. Chocolate doughnuts. Chocolate crinkles. Chocolate-covered wafers. Chocolate.

I may not have the willpower to stop my chocolate-panic-eating, but I do have the willpower to refrain from texting you. And asking you what your problem is. And telling you how I feel right now.

Emotions are volatile. But reason is constant. And I would wrest with these emotions until my reason convinces them that this is how it’s really supposed to be. I will subdue the emotions until all that is left is relative indifference. I will remind myself that I was not even supposed to like you in the first place.

At least two people ended up happy after the incident.

Too bad it wasn’t me.

Here’s to my unrelenting willpower.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
08/19/2008
01:49am

It Always Ends Well

2008-08-12T05:12:00.000-07:00

What a way to start the month.

On August 1, we received very disturbing news. There was a car wreck, a lot of blood basically gushing out of my sister's open forehead, a police officer coming in and out of the emergency room, thirty stitches, and a lot of tears.

My sister, always the good girl, always responsible and always generous, now has a huge scar marking her forehead.

It is by God's grace that no serious damage was incurred during the accident. As my aunt said, God lets things happen to teach us lessons. She thoughtfully suggested that since the accident involved a taxi driver's mistake, the lesson must be forgiveness.

And I feel an incredible lightness in my heart. Yes, I agree, the lesson is forgiveness, but it's so much more than the miscalculated maneuver.

My sister is now free from a heavy grudge that has been slowly destroying her through time.

Sometimes we become so stubborn that we have to learn our lessons the hard way. We get hurt and we wonder why we have to go through the difficult ordeal, but in the end everything proves to happen to make us better people.

The accident left a big scar on my sister's forehead.

But in the end it was the scar on my sister's heart that was ultimately healed.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
08/09/2008
11:27am

...brace myself and go for it

2008-08-03T04:57:00.000-07:00

The thought can be a bit scary. It was obvious I was a bit apprehensive about doing it at first.

Doing something new. It gives one that distinct hodge podge emotion of hesitation, doubt, excitement and exhileration that no one has yet coined a single word for. That was what I have been feeling for a week now.

It has been so long since I last performed that for a while I had misgivings about being able to do it, especially after learning who I'll be performing with. I know I couldn't mess it up, I couldn't be inadequate. I can't allow myself to be intimidated and discouraged by my own thoughts and concerns.

Today I erase the concerns that will not help me in doing it well. I will focus. I will prepare. I will love what I will do. I will have fun while doing it. I will get a measure of fulfillment with doing it. I will shine.

No restrictions. No hindrances.

Just me and the clear heavens beckoning me to fly.

God has given me a new blessing.

I will relish it without fear.

Somehow, that tickly feeling of thrill and the bubbling mix of emotions can be summed up in one general state:

happiness.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
07/25/2008
06:16pm

now off to have my measurements taken!=P

...randomly talk about anything and everything

2008-07-19T09:25:00.000-07:00

Umuulan.

Umuulan ng kung anu-anong ideya sa isip ko. Bilang gusto ko lang maipagpag lahat.

* Kapag pumangit na pala ang isang bagay, ang hirap nang ayusin. Kahit matagal na o bago pa lang, kapag hinayaang malamatan, hindi madaling ibalik sa dati.

Lalo na't hindi ka nagsasalita. Ang hirap intindihin ng taong ayaw magpaintindi.

* Masarap "magkape" ng mag-isa. At masarap ang New York Cheesecake ng Bo's.=P

* Hindi mabuting ma-attach sa tao, bagay, sitwasyon, o state of mind. Dahil sa buhay na ito, makasisigurado kang magbabago ang lahat at maloloka ka lang kung pipilitin mong panghawakan yung nagbago na. Kaya nga ako loka-loka lang minsan (puwede ring madalas) dahil ang hilig kong ma-attach.

* Alamin mo kung ano'ng gusto mong gawin. Kasi mahirap yung magdabog at maging aligaga habang sinasabing walang nangyayari sa buhay mo tapos hindi naman pala klaro talaga sa'yo kung ano'ng gusto mong gawin.

* Laging sinasabi ng mga tao pero mararamdaman mo lang na sobrang totoo kapag wala ka na sa unibersidad: huwag kang titigil matuto araw-araw. Minsan kasi darating na lang yung pakiramdam na literal na kinakalawang ka na ata at magtataka ka kung saang sulok mo ba naiwan yung mga itinuro sa'yo ng labing-anim na taon na hindi mo naman nagagamit/ginagamit.

* May tendency pala talaga akong maging loner na nilalayo ang sarili from the rest of the world kung papayagan ko ang sarili ko.

* Namimiss kita. Pero parang gusto ko na ring sumuko. Nakikini-kinita ko na rin kasing walang patutunguhan 'to kapag nagtuloy-tuloy pa.

* Kahit itanong niyo sa mga highschool classmates ko, sa PE, ang kapansin-pansing trait ko lang ay agility.

Tumigil na ang ulan. Sinundo na ako ng ate ko.

Bow.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
08/16/2008
09:15pm

...eat my temper and be patient

2008-07-08T23:15:00.000-07:00

May mga panahon lang talagang gusto mo nang tirisin ang isang tao sa sobrang panggigigil kahit alam mong mali.

Tonight, I had one of those moments.

She steps on my never-been-worn-ultra-new-ultra-luuuurv shoes.

I gasp.

And she goes ahead and talks vehemently in her loud voice about things I never even said. Things that can really be hurtful.

She didn't even say sorry.

She even went on to say it was my fault I left my shoes lying around [in plain view].

My blood was dangerously near reaching high temperatures.

But I sucked it all up.

I took deep breaths instead. It actually hurt me to do so. I could explain to her at length how she was obviously the one who was wrong and how she should have just said sorry.

Instead, all I said was, "alam mo, ang dami mong sinabi."

"Pa'no nagdadabog ka diyan!" she said in her overempathic manner.

Breathe in, stay calm, I told myself.

"Ako, nagdadabog? Hindi ba ikaw naman ang kanina pa nagdadabog?"

She kept quiet.

I said no more.

I thought, it would be no use to let our tempers flare up. It would be no use to answer whatever words she said because it will only end in a fight and more damage. It would be no use to try to make your point to someone whose blood pressure already shot up because she will not listen to you.

And so I just kept quiet and let it pass.

I sat and read, and after a while my heart rate and breathing have stabilized again.

And it felt good.

Because this time, I did not let my temper get the best of me.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
07/08/2008
01:40am

...be the first to text

2008-07-02T18:04:00.000-07:00

Tick-tock, tick-tock.

I am chronically aware of the time.

Tick-tock, tick-tock.

I can literally feel the minutes as they trickle by.

Tick-tock, tick-tock.

I am fragmented into a million minuscule grains of sand and I feel every single part of me fall much too quickly into the other side of the hourglass of time.

Tick-tock, tick-tock.

Six days.

Tick-tock, tick-tock.

I have been tossing and turning making sure to stay only on the threshold of sleepy wakefulness, waiting for you.

Tick-tock, tick-tock.

I check and check yet again. How can only two minutes pass when it seemed I have been holding my breath for an eternity?

Tick-tock, tick-tock.

After 144 hours I am still waiting. A hello. An acknowledgement of my existence. Anything.

Tick-tock, tick-tock.

23 hours ago, I gave up. I gave in. I swallowed my pride and forgot my rules and was the first to text.

Tick-tock, tick-tock.

23 hours later, still nothing from you.

Tick-tock, tick-tock.

Every minuscule grain of sand feels like a ton of lead as they land on my already heavy heart.

Tick-tock, tick-tock.

I listen to Chopin’s Valse de L’adieu [waltz of goodbye].

Tick-tock, tick-tock.

And I still glance at my phone and check and check and check again.

Tick-tock, tick-tock.

It has been a long, long, long time since I allowed myself to be so helplessly trapped this way.

Tick-tock, tick-tock.

Please don’t tell me I have to be trapped for a dreadfully long time.

Waiting. I never liked it. But it’s what I always end up doing.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
07/02/2008
11:55pm

Someone is an Island

2008-07-01T22:37:00.000-07:00

Anonymous lives in Isolation. A lot of different people live in the metropolis of Isolation. There are the intellectual types, artist types, adventurous types, sporty types, free-spirited types, depressive types, angsty types, stolid types; every type. So many types, in fact, that Anonymous doesn’t quite know where Anonymous falls under.

Anonymous tried to mingle with the different types. Anonymous enjoyed almost every type’s company and almost always hoped for a meaningful friendship with each one. However, almost always, the different types end up not knowing who Anonymous is after all.

Almost always, Anonymous is misinterpreted. Almost always, Anonymous ends up offending different types in some way or the other. Almost always, Anonymous is left alone.

Nobody seems to know who Anonymous is in the metropolis of Isolation.

All the different types are busy with their own lives. The intellectual types continue to rationalize, the artist types continue to paint their individual worlds, the adventurous types continue to go on their explorations, the sporty types continue to compare scores and records, the free-spirited types continue to live for the day, the depressive types continue to wallow in sadness, the angsty types continue to be displeased with everything, and the stolid types continue not to care. Anonymous is each one and no one.

The sad thing about living in Isolation is, Anonymous can be surrounded by so many different people and still be hit smack in the face with the fact that Anonymous is alone.

Many people may hear Anonymous’s musings, but not necessarily listen.

Many people may know, but one can never be certain if they understand.

The problem is, nobody knows who Anonymous is.

The monotonous buzz of chatter and activity that make no sense when heard collectively is the unmistakable proof that Anonymous lives in Isolation.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
06/30/2008
05:15pm

The Sadistic Story

2008-06-16T00:44:00.000-07:00

There are four characters in the sadistic author’s story.

It all happens in one small grey building where people are supposed to be artists. It figures that when artists get together and get all artsy, it could get a little messy.

Wide-eyed Girl is a newbie who went into the grey building. She thinks she’s somewhat experienced with things, but it turns out she has a lot more to discover. It figures well with her as her character is naturally inquisitive and curious, always sticking her nose into stuff. And being passionate about a lot of things, she wants to experience more. She wants to fall in love.

Brooding Observer and Playful Confusion are already at the grey building when Wide-eyed Girl arrives. They are constant companions who have seen each other in their bad times. It is not certain if it is her frequent hearty laughs, the serious look she has on her face when she is not laughing, or really just the wide-eyed questioning look she has in her eyes, but she is noticed.

It isn’t hard to befriend Playful Confusion. Playful is, after all, the keyword. She is generally a happy person with a lot of crankiness. Actually, she basically is masquerading the happiness in her crankiness. As for the Confusion part, well, let’s just say she’s a woman who confuses herself for a man.

Things are very different with Brooding Observer. Simply put, he speaks with almost no one. He just stays in his quiet little bubble and scowls as he goes over his artsy life. Wide-eyed Girl and Brooding Observer should be working closely with each other, but for some reason they never get past the polite nods and wordless glances. Maybe it is because even before the friendship could start, everyone else started talking. Saying that Brooding Observer is attracted to Wide-eyed Girl.

And now in comes Shy Sweetie. It is apparent she has an important part in this. She comes from the past of both Brooding Observer and Playful Confusion and of a lot of other people in the grey building. She is nice, polite and attractive, although the attractiveness is hiding behind a veil of shyness.

From the very first day Wide-eyed Girl notices that people seem to associate Shy Sweetie with Brooding Observer, and starts to build a theory on whether they were an item or not, mostly out of the habit of investigating things about people she is interested in. As for whether she is interested in Brooding Observer (hmm, as she is investigating!), it is yet to be reckoned.

Meanwhile, Playful Confusion breaks her comfortable friendship with Wide-eyed Girl just so Playful Confusion could tell her that she cares for her. Where that comes from, nobody knows. Nobody saw it coming. As far as everyone (not least Wide-eyed Girl) is concerned, it is just friendship they share. Wide-eyed Girl pretends she didn’t hear a thing and proceeds to act normal, and Playful Confusion decides to follow suit; except for the times when she purposely reminds Wide-eyed Girl of what she revealed to her.

The turn of events in the grey building give way for Brooding Observer and Wide-eyed Girl to interact. They should, after all, as what has been already provided by the sadist author, work in close proximity to each other. And so they proceed to communicate. Communicating without speaking to each other, as is the manner of always-at-a-loss-for-words artists. At this point the aforementioned question as to whether Wide-eyed Girl is already taking interest in Brooding Observer, it’s a close call. It’s a heavy boulder standing unstably at the very tip of a high cliff, dangerously on the brink; almost tipping over.

Every time Playful Confusion reminds Wide-eyed Girl of that tiny subject, Brooding Observer gets out of the picture for some time. The non-speaking communication ceases to exist. Playful Confusion is frustrated about the confused feelings. Wide-eyed Girl makes it clear that she cannot reciprocate, but wants to keep the friendship. Brooding Observer is silent.

Wide-eyed Girl befriends Shy Sweetie. They spend a little time together. They build some connections. And Wide-eyed Girl discovers.

It is a vast archive. Memoir upon memoir of time spent between Shy Sweetie and Brooding Observer. They are heart-wrenching accounts. Stories made of fairy dust and dreams that came true. Stories of emerging from the darkness. Stories of regarding someone as that one glittering light that brings one to hope of a better future. Stories of the past. Four months.

But they are the kind of stories in which one never knows if the end has been reached; or if the last sentence is just punctuated by a comma, waiting to be continued at some later time.

Where is Wide-eyed Girl in all this? She sits wide-eyed trying not to get all teary-eyed, and wonders once more at the effect the stories had on her. She is by no means at the same level with Shy Sweetie. For one, Shy Sweetie loves/d Brooding Observer, and Wide-eyed Girl is even at this point in denial of her fondness for him. For another, more important part, Brooding Observer loved/s Shy Sweetie. What they shared in four months did not even come close to nine months of mere polite nods and glances exchanged with Wide-eyed Girl.

Wide-eyed Girl finds it hard to breathe. This is especially since she is acutely aware of a certain boulder landing heavily on her heart.

Nobody knows what is in the heart or even the mind of Brooding Observer, even the sadistic author who writes their story. He is the mystery that doesn’t unfold, ensuring a sequel to the account.

Is it even true what people say that Brooding Observer likes Wide-eyed Girl?

Does Brooding Observer still have feelings for Shy Sweetie?

Does Shy Sweetie still have feelings for Brooding Observer? Does she come to mend some things in her archives and set things straight, claim what is hers?

Will Brooding Observer ever stand in the way and hurt his friend Playful Confusion in the process?

Will Playful Confusion finally accept that all there is to Wide-eyed Girl is friendship?

Will Wide-eyed Girl find the courage to discover what she is feeling? Does it even matter to the story anymore, or is it bound to end in vain like all the others?

And so the sadistic author puts down the pen.

Who gets the happy ending?

They say artists are hard to understand, but love complicates things even more.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
06/16/2008
02:11am

180degrees

2008-06-09T06:40:00.000-07:00

Dear Coreen,

Oh yes, there’s a problem.

When did all of this start?

Something has changed.

The Coreen I knew before was hardworking, selfless and generous, perhaps to a fault. You always thought of others before yourself. You always wanted to go way over what was required. You always pushed yourself to the point of burnout. You always gave priority to the happiness of others. You always wanted to ensure everything you gave was special. You always were involved with a lot of things at a given time. You always thought making others happy makes all the trouble and exhaustion worthwhile. You were on fire.

Now I look at you and I see someone selfish, lethargic and apathetic. Bordering on dense and unconcerned. You wouldn’t volunteer for anything. You wouldn’t involve yourself with something that is not your responsibility. You checked what the most basic requirements were and gave only that. You wouldn’t devote a lot of time working on a project to make your friends happy anymore. You didn’t give away any Chocolate Ganache cakes this year. If it’s possible not to participate, you won’t. You are barely involved with anything other than work and family. You have become lukewarm.

Is this the result of being too tired? Is this what happens when you give everything and you feel like nobody appreciates you, nobody sees you; like you are being misinterpreted even?

I don’t want you to be selfish. But I guess the breaking point does come eventually. The point when you just drop everything and scream, “ako naman, ako naman”, or “bahala kayo sa buhay niyo, hindi ako tutulong, tignan ko lang kung hanggang saan kayo aabutin.”

It sounds so nasty. I don’t want you to be like this. You were never needy by nature. I know it’s normal to be fed up and get tired, but you’ve taken too long in that place.

It’s a bad place to be. You should get out of there, Coreen.

I will not let you take the 180degree-turnaround. You know you wouldn’t be able to do it, to stand being that person. You should never forget the person that you really are.

And so I am ending this. Enough moping around doing nothing for fear of getting hurt or offended. It doesn’t do you any good. It doesn’t let you grow. Most of all it doesn’t make you feel good about yourself.

I have come to realize that one of the ways to be happy and fulfilled is not for people to commend you for your good work or for them to want to give to you; but for you to be able to give all that you can so that you are satisfied knowing you went over what was expected, over the limit, whether people thanked you for it or not.

Enough of that lukewarm whatnot. Nobody likes something neither-nor or either-or. Be who you really are.

I am shaking you up today. Wake up. Stand up.

Because I won’t settle for anything less.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
06/09/2008
08:53pm

Positively Negative

2008-05-28T07:17:00.000-07:00

Dear NC,

I said I wouldn’t have a crush on you.

And it’s not possible, really. The more I know about you the more I am convinced that it’s just not right (yep, even merely having a crush is not right).

What have you done to my mind?

We’re not even friends (okay, theoretically, maybe we are). And the chess position that makes it so convenient for the knight not to make a move will, I guess, be the position the game will always be in. We’re deadlocked. We can be nothing more than theoretical friends.

You are the complete anti-thesis of what I would consider a crushable. Seemingly very indifferent. Anti-social. Forgetful. Emotionless and unexpressive for the most part. Silently brooding and unsmiling. Detached. Worldly. Appearing to have a negative outlook in life.

But everyday you show something worth noticing, without you even being aware of it. I realize you’re also forgiving. Honest. Loyal to your friends. Mature. Immensely patient. Sensible. Sensitive of people’s feelings. Funny. Insightful.

I guess the law of magnetism applies in more ways than one, then.

The only problem is, I totally can’t read your mind.

Are you just whiling away your time? Is everything just a joke? Is this you simply trying to make friends?

I know two things, though:
1.) you have a friendship with Sam to protect, and
2.) not everything is necessarily a progression, and not everything has to mean something, especially for carefree people.

Maybe we’re just too different.

If the knight has every intention of keeping its stationary position, let us please stop the game.

On a reflective note, I would just want to cite that I actually do know one more thing:

You still never fail to make me smile every single day.

Sometimes positive + negative is good. It’s like infusing dissonance to harmonic melody to make the music more interesting, meaningful, multi-layered, rich, and ultimately, strangely beautiful.

This is very, very wrong.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
05/25/2008
02:25am

Crazy

2008-05-26T05:24:00.000-07:00

Dear Sam,

I thought things would go on smoothly from that time. Apparently, I was wrong.

What is going on in your mind?

I thought I made things very clear. And I had the impression you understood what I said, as I was very blunt and straightforward. Now that I think about it, I think you actually did understand, but just didn’t care about what I said.

You’re my friend. Do you know how hard it is to try to still be your friend after all the things you said and all the things you do? That’s not even counting the silly chess game a friend was describing to me. Friendships become ever more important to me as I grow older, but you seem to be intentionally jeopardizing ours.

Now you go about asking me if I feel uncomfortable about the situation. The truth is, the situation is supposed to be a non-situation already after our conversation. And for the first few days I really thought I could just forget that day ever came to pass. But you still choose to act like that.

Acting like you’re crazy.

Maybe you are.

Because I’m trying as hard as I can to keep the friendship, but you seem to be doing your best to mess everything up.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
05/24/2008
11:43pm

Grrrrrrr!

2008-05-16T02:23:00.000-07:00

Dear friends,

As I'm sure you've noticed, I've been very moody, irritable, snobby, bratty, cranky, disagreeable and unpleasant lately. Please excuse me. There is of course a reason behind it:

PMS.

I've been snapping at everyone in sight, rolling my eyes every other second at undisciplined MRT commuters, and taking offense at every little thing my officemates do that right now I'm subjecting myself to solitary confinement at Ministop where I hope I won't be irritated or be the cause of irritation.

It's hormones. It's that time of the month. It will pass. And then I can go back to being my happy, perky, colorful, positive self (with the usual sumpong =P).

Please bear with me.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
05/15/2008
04:34pm

P.S.
My gulay, I'm bingeing on all the wrong food and bloating like crazy. The hormone overdrive has got to stop.

Past, Present, Future

2008-05-12T01:48:00.000-07:00

Dear IV - Jeanne Jugan,

Reunions like ours give me such mixed feelings of joy and sadness. Five years ago we were with each other almost every single day. Five years ago we had 30 other families to go to aside from our own biological ones. Five years ago we knew almost everything there is to know about each other: who our crushes were, what our next big project was, who the teacher to beat was, why someone had a haircut, who someone probably was with given a particular time.

And now we're scattered not only all over the metropolis but all over the world. It's not the easiest thing to set one common day when everyone can generally take off from the continuous push forward of everyday life to pull back and return to the brood. And we have yet to organize that get together with a perfect attendance (yes, it will happen =P).

Around five hours. That's typically the time we have during reunions. It saddens me that the time will never be humanly possible to be broken down for all the things we want to do, the things we want to say. So much has happened in five years to 31 lives that five hours will never be enough.

We don't exactly know how everyone's careers are getting along, how each other's families are, who our classmates' special someones are (oh, but we do =P), what each one plans to do next month, where we got our new mannerisms and expressions.

Whether we notice or not, whether we accept it or not, we change daily. The faces we present each other the past reunion will not be the faces we will show in the next reunion. And they most definitely were not our faces five years ago.

Still, spending time with you guys bring me joy and hope.

We don't have to talk at length to know if one is ecstatic, just alright or plain miserable. Our habits and choice of words may change but it doesn't diminish our understanding of each other. We don't have to know each other's specific plans to know that every single one of us will make things happen, whatever field we may decide to be. We don't need to go around every single one of us to express how we feel. Because we already know. Because that's how families are.

I am reassured that if I ever was stuck within the area of San Fernando, Angeles or Mabalacat in a thunderstorm in the midst of a transport strike, there are 30 families who will be willing to take me in. Because family will be family no matter how long they are separated.

I may change daily but I am convicted with the belief that part of my core is the spirit of our batch.

We may be scattered all over the world, 31 people living 31 different lives, but we are in each other's hearts, and we are one.

I love you, guys.

Long live IV - St. John '02-'03!

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
05/12/2008
04:41pm

To Canada, With Love

2008-05-09T02:22:00.000-07:00

My dear Hapi,

It's obvious I got this idea from you. I hope you don't mind me borrowing it for the month.

How are you? It's been such a loooooong time since we last talked. I have a lot of stories to tell you, and a lot of stories I want to hear from you. We'll get together one day. I'll catch you through YM one lucky day.

Nevertheless, I want you to always remember that while we may not talk for a long time and while I don't know how life is for you right now, you are always in my heart.

I miss you!

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
05/09/2008
04:43pm

The Why

2008-05-07T02:15:00.000-07:00

Why did you have to mess things up? Why did it have to go all wrong? Why did you choose to ruin everything?

All I know is that you're crazy. And that I never saw it coming.

And that I never meant for it to be this way.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
05/05/2008
04:10pm

The Where

2008-04-23T00:07:00.000-07:00

Where could you hear a real story about someone you know dating Daniel Radcliffe while jumping up and down, keeping your balance in between hundreds of people?

Where could you see a long lost friend you haven't seen in ages and talk like you saw each other just the night before?

Where could you get a big bump on your back from a kick from a guy you don't even know?=P

Wherever in the world could it be possible to reinforce your frequently-negated belief that some friends do stay forever?

Thank God for the wave pool.=P

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
04/25/2008
03:10pm

the when

2008-04-19T01:13:00.000-07:00

health goals, huh.

maintain that weight and exercise regularly. i haven't seen that weight in the past year and a half and i didn't do that [pseudo]exercise in three weeks.

when will i have enough resolve to actually do this?

i said it was the end months ago.

and i was not kidding.

when will my strong resolve be apparent to everyone?

and the last when question (at least for the week) would have to be:

when is your birthday?=P

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
04/19/2008
4:49pm

The What

2008-04-04T01:45:00.000-07:00

And I don't even know WHAT to wear. Or WHAT to do. How does one prepare?

Super pppppanic mode!

I don't know how to be ready. But i will be ready.

Please give me this chance.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
04/04/2008
05:04pm

2008-03-31T02:38:00.000-07:00

discovery: this world will break your idealism. the longer you stay in this world, the more skeptic you become.

discovery: i still secretly am an idealist inside.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
03/31/2008
05:42pm

Unexpected

2008-03-28T02:51:00.000-07:00

I never would have thought and I never would have planned it. Especially at this crazy time of my life.

But as much as I wouldn't like to admit it, I think I'm starting to have a new you again. I am on the brink. Teensy steps away. On the verge of being in-crush.

Being that I drafted my Checklist for The One two months ago, I decided to measure against the standards. But hey, don't even really know the person. Yet. With the little that I do know, he scores 10/23. Not too bad considering that the little that I know is indeed very little.

It's too early to say anything about him right now. I'm not even sure if I am actually in-crush already.

All I know is that he makes me smile.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
03/22/2008
09:14pm

note: I wrote this six days ago. Today I don't think it's possible to be in-crush with him anymore.

Disturbed

2008-03-23T00:21:00.000-07:00

Lauren is suggesting I go to counseling. I am not disturbed. Okay, maybe I am, but not that disturbed. It’s just that I have to go to Greenbelt when I need to go to the comfort room. It’s just that I can’t sleep until around 04:30am since it happened. It’s just that I watched the same movie for three consecutive nights. It’s just that I couldn’t bring myself to write about what happened that day about a week ago. I am not at all disturbed.

But I did make a lot of discoveries.

I realized that women can be and are chronically prone to be degraded. It doesn’t matter who you are or what you do, there is always a possibility of a demeaning incident, discrimination or disrespect when one is living in this world and one is a woman.

I realized that having a UP education does not separate me from all women who fight for their place in this world. A degree in Broadcast Communication will not make me more articulate when faced with such humiliation. Heck, I can’t even begin to explain it right now, a week after the incident. I have lost my command of language and communication. I had been described as assertive by people, but that day I couldn’t bring myself to say anything to defend my position; I merely shouted mindlessly and had a hyperventilating fit.

Women have always wanted to be in control of their own lives. I want to be in control of all the situations I face.

That day, I felt that power stripped from me; that I am no more in control of everything than an ant prancing down its way until a finger squishes it.

I realized that sometimes, even when you try to interact with people with all the kindness that you have, you will still be abused. You will still be treated offensively. Sometimes even when you think about other people’s concerns over yours, you will still be regarded as the offender instead of the offended.

I realized (and this realization people make many times) that some people really are not deserving of trust; and that sometimes the untrustworthy one is the one you least expect.

I almost didn’t want to tell anyone. Yes, even before the offender thought about all the repercussions, I thought about them. And faced with that situation, even before I thought of myself, I thought of him. Even before feeling humiliated and degraded, I felt pity for the person.

But then I thought, I did not make this happen. He has brought this upon himself.

In that moment, I decided I will speak up. I will tell them. I will speak for all the women who ever felt disrespected, commodified; everyone who ever felt like they’ve been treated with less than what a self-respecting person deserves.

I will take control.

Still, I realize that liars will lie through and through. I have no power over that. But I did remind him of where liars’ final destination is.

But I did have the greatest discovery during this disturbing predicament.

I discovered that I have a solid group of friends, old and new, who will always be there to back me up, to support me, to make me laugh, to try to make me forget, to go with me to Greenbelt, to embrace me when I cry, even to be my punching bag when I have moods of violence. I also have my bestfriend who gave me a means of release by reminding me of the term ‘shucking fit!’

Having these friends is a wealth, a privilege, an honor; a blessing I will always be thankful for. Who could ever feel degraded when you have this group of good people surrounding you?

“Love na love ka kaya namin. Hindi mo lang alam pero love na love ka namin.”

“Basta kung may problema ka, sabihin mo lang sa akin. Kahit lalaki ako, huwag kang mahihiya.”

“Gusto mo ng ice cream? (I shake my head) Tara, punta tayo sa beach, tapos magsusumigaw tayo, I screeeeam!”

“Let’s go bag shopping! (I shake my head) Bag shopping for free? Tatanggi ka?”

“Wag ikaw. Magrent ka. May lima akong boys dito. Pang-6 ako. Babalatan ko [cya] na parang pried tsiken. Ikaw, nood ka lang. Wahaha. Joke lang.=P”

“God will never give you a problem that u cant handle, and experiences like that should make u stronger not the other way around, and i know it will take a whole lot of -------- to ruin you, keep ur head high! Peace! Ms. Coreen.”

I have all the power I need. I refuse be disillusioned, disheartened or broken by bad experiences. Friendship. Empathy. Concern. Loyalty. Courage. Love. All the power I will ever need.

I don’t need counseling. I can deal with this.

I’ll be better – stronger, wiser – in no time.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
03/21/2008
12:56am

the end

2008-03-12T00:22:00.001-07:00

i hope you're happy.

i hope you're happy now.

i hope you're happy in the end.

the.

end.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
03/12/2008
03:24pm

...

2008-02-14T09:09:00.000-08:00

She is a girl who has never been given flowers on Valentines Day. Never.

Does she look like someone who is too busy for flowers?

Maybe, she's not just perceived as a flower receiving person.

For all those years, it really didn't bother her.

Except now.

Here is one thing every man should know:

every woman, however you perceive her personality to be, likes to receive flowers. Not every woman likes flowers, but every woman likes to receive flowers. Whatever reaction you get from her, be assured she appreciated the gesture.

Just for every man to know.

As for the girl, she shouldn't even be eating chocolate right now.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
02/14/2008
01:07am

good thing all that is over and done with.

kuwentong paso

2008-02-05T02:01:00.000-08:00

Sino'ng makakapagturo kung paano mag-alaga ng orchids?

Sadya yatang hindi lahat ng tao ay maaaring mag-alaga ng orchids para manatili ito sa kanyang thriving state (sinabi na nga ba't hindi rin mapaninindigan ang deretsong Filipino=P). Oo, kahit sino'y maaaring magmay-ari nito, pero hindi lahat healthy. Tignan niyo lang 'yung paso sa fifth floor ng Emerald Court bilang napakagandang pangit na ehemplo.=P

Kaya naisip kong magandang ideyang magbigay ng buhay na halaman sa mahal sa buhay imbes na bulaklak na nakapumpon na. Bakit nga ba pinitas na bulaklak ang binibigay, lalo na ng mga nanunuyo? In essence, patay na 'yon, naka-respirator lang. Ibibigay para makita lang malanta at isa-isang malaglag ang mga talulot nito? Ito ba ang simbolo ng pagsuyong inaalay nila, na sasabay lumipas sa paglipas ng panahon, na mawawalan ng magandang kulay kinabukasan, na may expiry date?

Ang halaman na buhay, kailangang alagaan para manatiling buhay. Kailangan ng tamang kombinasyon ng araw, ulan, at matabang lupa. Kailangan huwag isabak sa mahanging kondisyon hangga't hindi matibay ang mga ugat. At sa paglipas ng panahon, ito ay yayabong, lalaki, lalong titingkad ang mga kulay, at mamumulaklak. Ganyan ang kailangan ng kahit anumang relasyon.

Mayroon akong isang halaman na parang mamamatay na. Hindi ko alam kung ano'ng gagawin.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
02/05/2008
07:36pm

Makulay ang Buhay

2008-01-27T06:37:00.000-08:00

* * *
You (please refer to December post) are not my crush anymore.=P And I actually think this is a good thing. I think crushes should begin to have an expiration date, hahaha. It prevents one from being too attached.

* * *
Torpe is still torpe as ever. It makes me smile, though.=P

* * *
Presko is still ever the kareerista that he is, but I am not so annoyed. It gives me a license to be sarcastic towards him and raise my eyebrow ever so slightly.=P

* * *
My full name is finally written in our program’s CBB. It helps to have connections, harhar.=P

* * *
I am super enjoying the shoots. After the long-ish vacation, being able to shoot again gives me the satisfaction, fulfillment and education I always get through the little adventures in the field.

* * *
It is indeed very refreshing to sit, talk and bond with guys who have no other agenda other than friendship. I miss hanging out with guy friends (I think the last time was during highschool pa). I super appreciate and enjoy the new ties I hope to build with new friends.

* * *
I walk for around 45 minutes each day. For someone like me who has always liked walking, this is a great perk.=P It may be a different atmosphere from my highschool’s corridors and oval, and UP’s greenery and lamplighted streets, but on mornings I feel the wind in my hair and at night I get to look at the moon while walking.

* * *
In the midst of controversies and anomalies being investigated in the office, I continue to laugh with people at work, do my job, sit and do some writing, and just stay still and think, plan and dream. I refuse to be pissed, to be disillusioned, to be troubled or to lose hope. Para maiba naman, ‘di ba. We can’t find perfection in this world (but we do have to strive hard to work on trying to achieve it), and we should not look at people as a gauge because at one point they will fall short. I will do what I can to make a difference a little at a time, and I do believe that where I am working right now is a promising venue, and so, I am not discouraged.

For four months now (ever since I moved to a different company, haha), I have been getting comments that I’m always happy, always perky, always smiling. And really, it just makes me smile even more.

I am a happy person. I’m me again.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
01/27/2008
03:37am

Someone

2008-01-20T21:56:00.000-08:00

My exchange of text messages with Lei some nights ago confirmed that I never disclose pleasant happenings involving the opposite sex in my blog. I am, after all, as Hapi calls me, the Queen of Ice.=P I have a different [secret] venue for mushiness.

I have been continually asked about standards regarding men. And my constant answer has always been, I don't have standards; the ideal does not exist in this imperfect world. People say I only say this because I have high standards, too high to even be discussed.

My friends actually make lists of the qualifications of The One. I remember reading requirements such as a UP/Ateneo education, musical inclinations, height specifications, financial capacity, love of children, and many others ranging from the typically mundane to the extremely outrageous. Now that I think of it, it is important to specify one's standards, for one to know what one really wants and therefore, to lessen the chances of settling [for less]. An inference has come to me that maybe I don't know how to answer the standards question because I don't particularly know what I want.

Of course, that is not a good thing.

So I have given great thought [pinag-nilaynilayan talaga!] so as to know what I really want.

And since this is New Month, I have decided to forego my alternate venue for mushiness and write for the first time a non-offensive post pertaining to males, and lay down

My Checklist for The One:

- Someone man enough to have God in the center of his life
- Someone strong enough to recognize and acknowledge his emotions
- Someone smart enough to hold an interesting conversation about absolutely anything and everything
- Someone wise enough to think of the future
- Someone generous enough to give his time
- Someone fair enough to be able to compromise
- Someone fun enough not to take himself seriously all the time
- Someone firm enough to hold his own, stare me down and not yield even during my bossy mode
- Someone cheesy enough not to be embarrassed by poems, articles or other projects or surprises that I may do for people =P
- Someone brave enough to reprimand me when I'm being difficult =P
- Someone daring enough to really want to know me
- Someone true enough to let me get to know the real him
- Someone purposeful enough to have his own dreams
- Someone supportive enough to let me achieve my dreams
- Someone humble enough to admit it when he makes mistakes
- Someone considerate enough to understand that I will make mistakes
- Someone thoughtful enough to make ordinary days special
- Someone caring enough to really be concerned about how people feel
- Someone simple enough to appreciate the beauty of laughter shared together
- Someone gentlemanly enough to try not to hurt me, but of course at some point he would, so someone gentlemanly still to stay by me when I have been hurt
- Someone childlike enough to believe that dreams do come true
- Someone hopeful enough to stay during bad times and persevere for better things to come
- Someone faithful enough to keep a commitment

Whew. I guess that was a lot. Maybe I do have high standards. Or not. Actually, I don't think so. Everything is relative anyway.

But high or not, I do know that someone is out there, someone I will laugh hard with, someone who will be bothered when I'm sick, someone who will do anything to stop me from crying, someone who can argue with me and say his piece, someone who will do something nice one typical Tuesday just because. Someday I will see that someone, and he will be enough.

I'm a hopeful romantic, you see.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
01/21/2008
02:27am

interested applicants... are interested applicants.=P

I learned.

2008-01-15T00:22:00.000-08:00

Sixteen years I spent in school. That was more than half my life! When we look back on those years, we do realize we learned a lot. I want to give special mention to my teachers, who indeed taught me as much as they can; and most valuable lessons were those that cannot be found in any book.

My prep teacher taught me that being talkative can remove one from the honors list.=P My second grade Sibika teacher taught me one can be a hero by returning my excess change of ten pesos (and getting hit by a car in the process=P). My third grade all-around teacher (that was how it was in public schools, and since we got struck by lahar, that is where I continued my studies) taught me that one should be responsible for one’s own space, to bring even floor wax and bunot to make sure one’s space is impeccably clean. My fourth grade English teacher discovered my talent in writing. My sixth grade adviser believed I can join any competition, even art contests.=P

Ms. Dizon of first year English taught me to be analytical and careful in reading. With Ms. Chiong of first year Values Ed, I learned what genuflect means. Mrs. Sandig of Integrated Science taught me patience and longsuffering with the very long notes we had to take.=P Ms. Naluz of second year Filipino taught me discipline. Mrs. Panganiban of second year THE taught me how to make shorts.=P Ms. Guevarra of second year EnviSci taught me that to be able to show one understands something, one should be able to explain it clearly and systematically. Mrs. Teodoro of third year English taught me to stand firm by my beliefs no matter who contests them. Mrs. Mariñas of third year Filipino taught me to give everything to make sure to present the best outcome, to think beyond the expectations and do things others would not dare to do. Mrs. De Leon of third year ValuesEd taught me to laugh despite the heaviness of the heart and the troubles one has to face. Mrs. Gamboa of Chemistry taught me meekness and humility. Mrs. Supan of fourth year English taught me eloquence and composure. Mr. Macalino of Economics taught me practicality, planning, and that being perceived to be detached does not mean one cannot be attached. Ms. Uy of Culinary Arts taught me to experiment (=P) and to know when to let one’s guard down.

Ms. Tindaan of Comm1 taught me that it’s okay to let my talents shine. Prof. Tolentino of Philo1 taught me to trust in what I think. Prof. Rimando of Math1 taught me to assert myself even when it concerns an area I’m not good at, as long as I know I’m right. Prof. Aguila of MP179 (Malikhaing Pagsulat ng Iskrip Pampelikula) taught me that to be a writer one must work tirelessly. Dr. Fajardo of AS2 (Art Studies: Art Around Us) taught me that art is everywhere and that one should open one’s senses to accept and appreciate it. Prof. Vera Cruz of French10-11 taught me how to say je suis désolée, je ne comprends pas, and Dr. Lopez of Spanish10 taught me how to say perdón, pero no lo se.=P Prof. Villanueva of MP174 (Malikhaing Pagsulat ng Dula) taught me that one must keep doing what one loves to do, no matter what other people say, no matter the dissensions, criticism and contentions, and one may hope to hone what talent one has. Sir Dexter of Theater12 taught me never to think one is brilliant, rather to keep on aiming to improve. Prof. Aseron taught me to value time. Prof. Avecilla taught me to be prepared for anything. Prof. Austria taught me to think of everything, plan everything, and execute everything perfectly, without excuses.

Yes, the sixteen years were well spent. As these lessons had a hand in molding a significant part of who I am, I am indeed thankful that the task of teaching me was given to these generous people.

And the learning continues.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
01/05/2008
03:05am

Carpe Diem!

2008-01-13T03:58:00.000-08:00

I just realized I received everything I wanted last Christmas, and more.

My production teammate Larry gave me a huge hardbound notebook and pens (all purple!=P), and I took that as a sign: I should not stop writing. Whatever keeps me busy, I should take time to pause for a while and write, because writing has always been one of my passions (and therefore one of the things that keeps me sane). To be able to make meaning, one must never lose sight of one's passions. I wouldn't want to go through life like a programmed robot, until I rust away and realize I could have paused, I could have taken time; I could have seen and not just looked.

I also received my long-coveted, long-pined-for ----- -- ---- planner! (*applause, applause!*) It says, we have to make time tangible. It also has a goal planner so one does not lose track of what one really wants to achieve (this is not a paid advertisement and as such, the name of the planner is not mentioned.=P) Suddenly, i thought of so many things I want to do, and again I was reminded that if I wanted to make it happen, I actually can.

I just know 2008 has so many new things in store for all of us transitioners (what I call our age bracket =P).

My officemate told me that the planners actually have different charms on them. I looked at my charm: a heart.

Naturally, the interpreter in me gave meaning to that. I would like to look at it as a charm representing a gift: this 2008, the gift is love. Love for me to give and love for me to receive. And for 2008, this I claim.

What a happy year this will be, indeed.

Watch out for my recording. I am not joking.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
01/12/2008
01:38am

or maybe I am. (only about the recording part, though.=P)

Tren

2008-01-07T04:47:00.000-08:00

The DOTC said there will be 120 new trains traversing EDSA and Taft by the start of this year. And about time too, if they ever noticed the mass hysteria riding the MRT causes between the hours of 6:30am-9:30am.

And yet, i rode the MRT this morning,

and was still enveloped in the heterogenous mixture of skin, sweat, breath, voice, baggage, steps, push, pull, and all the forces of physics working against each other.

And i marveled yet again that commuters survive this jungle daily (i half-believed someone would have gotten her hair torn off by the end of the ride).

Where, o where, are the new trains?

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
01/07/2008
09:01pm

Blessed

2008-01-05T04:00:00.000-08:00

A few days ago, I saw a billboard promoting some insurance company. It featured a child wearing a toga and said something like, you don’t have to worry about his future. And then, like a light inside of me that is suddenly turned on, I thought of something: I may never have said thanks for the life I’m living. And now I will.

I never had an educational plan to support my future (actually, when I was young [around 6 or 7 years old] I think I did have one, but my mom stopped maintaining it. anyway), and yet I was able to study at the best schools, had the best education available to me, and the best opportunities within my reach. In all my life, never was I told that I cannot do something, and that mentality was instilled in me. I wanted to sing when I was two years old, and I sang. I wanted to write when I was seven years old, and I wrote. I wanted to act when I was eight years old, and I acted. I wanted to dance when I was eleven years old, and I danced. Heck, I wanted to draw when I was twelve years old, and I drew!=P I wanted to direct when I was thirteen years old, and I directed. I wanted to lead when I was fifteen years old, and I led.

Continually I am being blessed beyond the measure of my expectations. I graduated from college hoping only to be a Production Assistant, as that is the entry level position for those who finished our course. One of our professors even taunted us before and told us 90% of us would end up in call centers anyway, never mind the UP education. And yet now, I am working as Segment Producer for a station whose advocacies I believe in, where I am exposed to my interests, my passions, my hopes.

Most cherished of all is the blessing of family and friends. Wherever I am, whatever the situation, I do not falter with the belief that someone would readily support me, help me, and most importantly believe in me. All worldly things, all accomplishments, all opportunities may fade and pass but for the company of love, it will not be a loss; for dreaming is only a joy when shared with a loved one.

Admittedly, at times I am saddened by the thought that I did not have a father to watch over me and guide me as I grew. But then I remember how many fathers I actually have. Tito Rolly taught me as a child many things, including how to spell my name [the wrong way, to the outrage of my mother], and counts me as one of his own children. Doc Roger takes pride in my successes. Tito Meng protects and shelters me when I’m in Pampanga. Daddy Macho boosted my confidence when he said they can put anything on me and I will not be ugly. Though it was for a brief time, I also felt a father’s presence in Atty. Avecilla, who would bend his precious rules just so I would stop crying, and who would boast of my talents without end in class.

And then there’s my Father, the Giver of all good things. He knows me as no one would ever know me. He understands me as no one would ever understand me. He loves me as no one would ever love me. He stands by me, giving me comfort and encouragement and strength that fortify my spirit, the spirit that He has renewed, such that it cannot be broken by sadness, or by unfaithfulness, or by despair; even by death.

What a blessed life I live.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
01/05/2008
04:02am

Funny what a billboard can make someone think.=P

okay.

2008-01-04T06:05:00.000-08:00

heto ang hatol ko [sa sarili ko]:

feelingera lang talaga ako.=P

ngayon pa lang tatanggapin ko na,

para masaya.

bow.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
01/04/2008
10:12pm

Indung Kapampangan

2008-01-02T23:49:00.000-08:00

Uling bayu pin dapat ing bulan at banwang ini, aisipan kung gawan ing ali ku pa agawa dati: ing manyulat king kapampangan. King palage ku anggiyang deng tutung kapampangan ali de aintindiyan ing pamanyulat ku, uling manula ku mu ampong Filipino ya pamu rin ing panga-balangkas na nini (uling ita ing maka-programa king utak ku), pero gawan ke pa rin.=P

Makananu ke ba niyari ing 2007 at inumpisan ing 2008? Megbiyahe na kung megbiyahe. Kapitna siguru ning panaun atsu ku king kalsada. Pero ayus mu, mesaya naku naman.

Aniyang 29, minta ya i Leilani king Menila bang miikit na kami makalipas ing apat a bulan. Miglakad kami, mig-grocery, meg-coffee ampong misabing maluwat. Kaybat minuli kami kekami para maglutu para king reunion na ning St. John. Josko, king kaluwat kung meglutu (i Lei igse ne ing danum penglinis kung patatas ampong pinutut ne ing luncheon meat=P) bala ku maputut na la reng brasu ku. Pero ayus mu uling para naman kareng kaluguran kung Jeanne Jugan ita. Meyari kami 7:30 na ning abak ning a-30 ning Disyembri.

Apun megbiyahi na kami papunta Angeles. Karatang mi minuna na ku king resort uling magsimba ya pa kanu i Lei. Oyta, melili ku rugu at pinulut daku ri Capeña nung nukarin ku melili. Masaya naman, miikit-ikit pasibayu reng mikakaluguran. A-miss ku lang talaga. Reng kakulitan, katakawan, pamagkuwentu, basta ngan ngan (masakit manisip salita=P). Ayalala mi lang pasibayu reng lemon chiffon cake, kayo ang bagong Rizal, a party a party a party again, kayong hindi nagsikabo, so run for survival and hide in the wood, at marakal pang aliwa. Mesaya ku talaga. 12am na kami pin ning a-31 meyari. ‘Yan tuluy, ali na ku mekauli agad king Menila. Panenayan ku namu kanu ing abak kari Lei.

Nanung panenayan ing abak? Uling 3:30am na ku metudtud, 12:30pm na ku megising. 3pm na ku mekalako kari Lei, e munta ku pa king Cavite. Megtext ne pin i ma ku at aisip ku talaga, aro, mangabarongbong na ku kanyan karatang ku keta, bayung banwa pa mo (balu ku ing salitang mangabarongbong uling paburitu neng salita ning atsi kung Kleng=P).

Mekaratang ku king Manila 5pm na. Mekaratang ku king Cavite 9:15pm na (sinabit ku pa king mala-MRT a bus a makamate kanyan). Ali na ku naman pildu ning ma ku, kinaul na ku pin e. Ing atsi ku ali na ku pekisabyan anyang mumuna, pero tinggap ku namu, balu ku naman gagawan de ita uling kaluguran da ku. Taimik at payapa ya ing kekaming bayung banwa.

Megbiyahe na kami na naman king mumunang aldo na ning bayung banwa, pabalik namang Menila. Mag-obra kami pa, siyempre. Pero ali ya pa meyari ita para kanaku, mi-ikit kami pang Arianne king McDo Mindanao Ave. King kaluwat mi nang ali miikit at king karakal mi kuwentu, mekauli ku king bale 2:30am na ning a-dos ning Eneru. Kaybat ita, sinulat na ku.

Anggiyang nanu pang pagal, ali mu talaga indahan patse maligaya na ka man panamdaman. Akayabe ku la reng peka-importanting tau king biye ku, kaya anggiyang nanu pang trapik, aberya o kasungitan ing atin ken, masanting ya simula ing banwa ku. Maili ku pa rin patse ayalala ku.

Rugo, king kaluwat kung sinulat ini. Nung atin mung spelling and grammar check king kapampangan ginamit ku ne. Mengalilyu na ku kakasulat. Siguradu reng memasa lalu lang melilyu.

Nanu man ing malyari, ating dayang Kapampangan manalete kareng ugat ku. O lawen yu na, ali tutung malyari kung gumamit anggiyang nanung medium. Nung bisa kayung maka-akit gawa kung tiktak karakal wrong grammar, pasulatan yu ku king Kapampangan.=P

Whew. Mekasingap na ku rin.=P

Maligayang bayung banwa!

lavender-wilwarin
coreenanelicafernandezchan
01/02/2008
03:57am

I need a car.=P

versus

2007-12-20T03:27:00.000-08:00

mayroon akong mga napagtanto:

mas gusto ko sa torpe kaysa sa presko.

mas gusto ko sa tahimik kaysa sa nagpapapansin.=P

mas gusto ko sa simple lang kaysa sa careerista.

ang problema sa torpe, kaagad sumusuko.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
12/20/2007
07:31pm

fickle

2007-12-19T08:27:00.000-08:00

and they say women are fickle.

unfaithful.

indecisive.

easily distracted.

mapagpalusot.

ADHD-stricken.

appearance prioritizers.

that's what most men are.
and i do not generalize, but really, most are.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
12/20/2007
12:37am

body stickers are dangerous.

the opposite of elastic

2007-12-17T07:08:00.000-08:00

is plastic.

so i don't get it when people say some people put on their plastic faces para makisama.

as far as i know, the Filipino trait of pakikisama does not include pretending to be someone, or to like someone, or being saccharine-sweet to the point of gagging in front of someone you actually don't like. as far as i know, what pakikisama involves is compromise, empathy and adjustment.

i received a text a long way back: "i'd rather be hated for who i am than be loved for who i'm not." and until now, i agree. if i don't like you, you'll know for sure.=P if you're really my friend, i'll fight for you/with you 'til the end.

i never really got used to encountering plasticity. and i realized wherever one may be, always, always there will be the plastics. they're recyclable, you see.=P and so while continually the plastics may hurt the people around them, in the end, they are still the losers.

to all those people who choose to be plastic in situations they can't handle: nakakangawit 'yan.

the day may come, when you realize you don't know who your real friends are.

worse, a day may come when you realize even you don't know who you are anymore.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
12/17/2007
11:55pm

you

2007-12-10T08:31:00.001-08:00

whenever i talk about someone of the opposite sex whose identity i don't want to reveal (usually because i have/had a crush on them), i use the pronoun you. i just realized that this year, all the you's in my blog were pertaining to one guy. my entire month of june even had all entries devoted to that certain you. that pales in comparison to the past year, where i think the you's pertained to about six men (but with my father included, wahahaha). which meant i led a pretty boring life thinking about that one you of this year who turned out to be no good after all.

but before the year ends, i guess i'd be writing about a different you. and i'm very happy about it.

i think i am on the verge of having a crush again.

almost.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
12/11/2007
12:31am

period.

2007-12-09T04:05:00.000-08:00

now i can say it with finality.

it's over.

the end.

it's one less fan in your fan club.

i have come to accept that you really are what they say you are and not who i thought you are. i have stopped thinking and believing that there is something good hidden inside that jerk exterior as of now.

maybe one day, you will change. nevertheless, i wouldn't be your fan anymore.

i commend you for your brilliant talent. i hope you use it for better purposes.

i will not write about you anymore, it's a waste of my own talent.

someday, may your life have more meaning than it has today.

goodbye.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
12/09/2007
8:39pm

Drifting

2007-10-24T03:05:00.000-07:00

I have been wanting to do this for the longest time.

But everytime I try to do so, the slightest movement happens, and I am not able to do it.

Now I think the circumstances are helping me to do it.

I do not study where you study anymore. I don't work where you work. I doubt if we even move around the same city daily.

Your line of work is not my line of work (although I do want to be involved with your kind of work, and not because of you). Although they sometimes intersect, our paths actually intersecting is unlikely.

My house is not a tricycle ride away from your house anymore.

At last, I don't know what you're doing, how you're doing, anymore.

I have not been hearing from you.

So please help me this time,

and if this really is goodbye,

let me forget you.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
10/22/2007
02:59pm

Choices

2007-10-18T06:31:00.000-07:00

October 17 and 18 are monumental dates by my calendar.

In fact, they are the only monumental dates with an event I was not able to go to so far this year.

Josh Groban in concert.

How could I miss it?

I am reminded that I am not part of the alta sociedad, haha, which is why the previous question shouldn't be asked at all.

Lani Misalucha is singing The Prayer with Josh Groban.

Double Oh My God. Josh Groban, Lani Misalucha, and The Prayer. What a combination.

The UP Singing Ambassadors is doing the back-up for Josh Groban.

Can I just die?

If I were still with UPSA, I would possibly have experienced more than one dream come true.

I would have seen Josh Groban in person.

I could have heard him sing live.

Most of all, I could have possibly been able to sing with him.

Wow. *expels deep breath*

"Life is a sum of all your choices."
-Albert Camus

Then again, if I were still with UPSA, there could have been the possibility of not graduating on time.

I wouldn't have been able to perform in theater.

I wouldn't have time to go to Cavite and teach the youth in the church mom is pastoring.

I wouldn't be working right now and interacting with inspiring people.

And I do not regret the choice.

I know I would be able to watch UPSA's performances which I've been missing so much again in the future.

And one day, I will watch Josh Groban sing live. In this country or the next.

What ifs are indefinite. Plans are achievable.

And I plan on making my dreams come true.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
10/18/2007
01:21pm

But I'm still heartbroken over this Josh Groban concert with UPSA and Lani Misalucha. Sigh.=P

Chopsuey

2007-10-15T07:39:00.000-07:00

Mahal na ang de lata
Pati pa'ng abrelata
Minamahal kong sinta
Nagmahal ka na rin ba?
-Vim Nadera

This is Prof. Vim Nadera's impromptu tanaga in one of Chopsuey's (our program) coverages. I deal with people with creative and intelligent minds like him on a daily basis. Talking with people like him makes me think more about all sorts of things.

Makes me think of so many things I want to do.

Makes me think how much I want to make art.

Makes me think how much I want to contribute in my little ways to society.

It also makes me think how little I am able to do right now.

I guess it's me in fast forward mode again, wanting to do monumental things with the limited time that is given us.

But the concept of time being limited, or definite, they say, is but a social construct.

Therefore, time is actually limitless and immeasurable; and depends only on how one perceives it and compartmentalizes it.

Then why do I think that nothing much is happening in my life in this span of time that can be called my transition?

I must have chopped up my perception of time too much into mince-pieces.

Speaking of Sir Vim's tanaga, it naturally led me into thinking of, who else, but you.

Nagmahal ka na rin ba?

It really made me wonder if you ever experienced it, am capable of it.

How would I know, right?

The more important question actually is, why should I know?

We have virtually no communication.

It once again dawns on me how important it is for people to move around the same circles for them to understand each other, develop relationships, basically to be together.

Duh.

How does one be with a person when each moves in different planes?

I guess that's why you're cooking something up with her. Or she's cooking something up with you. However it works.

Is it something serious?

When are you really interested?

When are you really involved?

Nagmahal ka na rin ba?

She seems awfully close to you.

I know I have no right to be affected.

But one's involvement in a certain event or circumstance is actually not constant or definite, not determined by right, but is relative to one's perception.

Then I must have unwittingly positioned myself too close for my heart to be chopped up into mince-pieces.

I really don't want to be affected.

For all it's worth, you're not my minamahal kong sinta in the first place. The proof:

Love is not jealous.

Then I shouldn't have been thinking about you and the girl.

Love does not keep a record of wrongs.

Then I shouldn't have been counting how many times you have not kept your word.

Love is not rude.

Then I shouldn't have been able to say things which were sarcastic and out of line in that one instance.

That's why you're not my minamahal kong sinta.

This is what thinking does to me.

I make quite an incoherent mix at times, huh? My mind is Chopsuey.

If my perception of time is chopped up into mince-pieces, why am I able to wait for you for so long?

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
10/15/2007
02:14pm

Love is patient.
- 1 Corinthians 13:4a

Change of Perspective

2007-10-10T04:48:00.000-07:00

I have not written anything in more than three weeks. Well actually, I have, but it was so depressing that I did not have the heart to post it.

Upon recent inspection of what I have been writing the past weeks (months, to be more precise), I realized something.

I am consistently writing about dark and dreary, depressing and negative stuff recently. Which is very far from my writing style which strives to be always positive and hopeful in whatever condition.

Which led me to think: have I been writing this way because I am continually sucked into dreadful things in my life? Has there been too much injustice, unkindness, sadness, disloyalty and dishonesty around me that I am left with nothing else to write?

Or is it just a state of mind?

Whatever it is, I have decided not to be overcome by it. A lot of bad things may happen, and most of the time it may overshadow what little quiet there is in this life, but still one thing holds true:

There is some good in this world. And to see kindness in a world where there is too much unkindness should be enough to draw out what happiness one has.

I thank God that I am now enjoying my new job doing what I want to do. I am blessed to be immersed in different activities and to hear the stories of different people; to learn daily and to experience art.

The landscape has changed. My vision has refocused.

Now I can write again.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
10/10/2007
08:01pm

definition of terms

2007-09-08T06:29:00.000-07:00

I was the one who told a friend that “opportunity” is identified differently by different people.

Almost everyday I am overrun by the truth that a lot of people would do anything to be where I am right now. What a big, huge, monumental opportunity it is for me to be here.

When I walk the halls and see the people with their noses held high, people scrambling past attempting to finish twenty tasks in five seconds, people who barely notice anyone around them except for celebrities, people with their RGB-logo IDs, I think, a massive lot of people want to get in here.

Few ever do get in.

I do realize that, since a week would not pass without someone asking me if I knew someone inside who made sure my papers got noticed (no, I got in by submitting my resumé the way people normally would). A week would not pass without someone telling me how lucky I am to be a fresh graduate and have this as my first job.

Don’t get me wrong. I have nothing against the network. Or the job. The truth is, I have been an avid follower of the station all my life. And I want the job.

I keep on telling myself that. I want the job, I like the job, I will fight for the job.

Which is why I really wonder why I am not happy.

I know that’s stupid. No one can be happy all the time.

But still it baffles me (to borrow Stacey Fuentabella’s word choice) that I should feel so detached from something I know I wanted for so long. I even purposely avoided most job opportunities because I wanted to land where I really want to be.

And now I ask myself, is this really where I want to be?

Is this my opportunity, really mine and not someone else’s, an opportunity that is classified by my own definitions?

I know what makes me happy. True friends. Meaningful conversations. Genuine smiles and laughter. Art in all its forms.

All I can say is that I cannot remember if I ever had a hearty laugh while inside that building.

My true friends are scattered all over the metropolis and the globe. And I wouldn’t hope to find one in there anytime soon.

Meaningful conversations I would have to look for someplace else and would of course involve people whom I could spill my guts to without them laughing at me behind my back. They would laugh at me to my face. And I would do the same.

And that I cannot feel art from where I am right now.

And Coreen is not Coreen without art.

But I am way too much in a hurry, I am aware of that. It’s too soon to tell. I told Val a while ago that maybe we are too much in a hurry to find our place, to make a difference, to take control. After all, we are but at the beginning. Val thinks it is but normal. And I agree.

It is but normal to feel floating, lost and confused when one really steps out into the real world.

But that doesn’t mean one can easily live with the feeling.

One co-worker of mine continually asks me a single question. He particularly asks it when he’s frustrated or pressured with his work.

“Coreen, sigurado kang ito ang gusto mong gawin?”

I cannot answer with full conviction right now, but one day I will.

The moment I know the answer, I’ll know what to do.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
11/07/2007
01:45am

Hanging

2007-09-05T07:59:00.000-07:00

I think you may be leaving.

The statement is so non-committal because I don’t know anything for certain when it the topic is you. Anything.

I don’t know what your favorite color is.

I don’t know your likes and dislikes, favorites and pet peeves.

For goodness’s sake, I don’t even know your real age.

So how am I supposed to know who you are? How can I ever say I knew you, know you…

I can’t even go to the will know you part, because I think you may be leaving.

At least that part I know. You were planning on leaving.

Is that why you were having your fun here? Because you’re leaving anyway?

And where does that leave me, when you go off to the other side of the world?

Pardon me for saying that, I know I don’t have the slightest right. After all, I was nothing to you.

But you are anything but nothing to me.

Hanging. That would definitely leave me hanging.

I don’t know if it’s your intention or my foolish choice, but that is, after all, my position from the beginning. Hanging.

If you leave, I may never know.

There are a lot of things you don’t know. And chances are, the big probability is you don’t really want to know.

And it hurts me, really.

You are just a crush.

And I am just one of the many girls.

So I really don’t know why it hurts me.

They say girls are stupid with maps. Maybe we are.

Because if you leave, I’d know exactly where to locate you in any world map. I’d know what you’re doing, how you’re doing…

but I wouldn’t know why I would bother to do so when I should be making an effort to remove myself from the cliff I’m hanging from.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
09/05/2007
12:20am

I don’t like being stupid. Just so you know how hard admitting all this is.

struggle

2007-08-25T03:22:00.000-07:00

Do not bend.

No matter how petty an issue or how monumental the repercussions may be.

Do not bend whether it be a matter of crossing the street where it's not permitted or manipulating your income tax return for your benefit.

Do not bend even when people laugh at you and think it is such a small matter to fight for.

Do not bend even when it can spell the difference between people's approval and rejection of you.

Do not bend even when not doing so can bring you so much trouble.

Do not bend even when you're trapped in a sticky situation.

Do not bend even when it's the easiest thing to do.

Even when you are tempted to do so,

even when you want so much to escape,

even with the slightest degree of conceeding,

never

ever

ever

bend.

Because the moment you do, you will bend again,

and again,

and again;

and you will bend further each time.

Until the moment comes, without your knowledge or consent, when

you break.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
08/25/2007
06:58pm

misconception

2007-08-21T05:27:00.000-07:00

There are so many people in this world who get by with cheating.

And they think they can actually be successful people in doing so.

Those of us who believe in honesty believe this cannot be so.

But then we see otherwise.

Someone goes through preschool, grade school, and gets introduced to the idea of doing good without any effort at all: cheating (oh well, there is that effort of craning one's neck and trying not to be caught, but it hardly counts). He gets delighted in earning credit for things he did not work hard for and gets desensitized with the idea that cheating is wrong.

He advances to high school with high grades and people think he's smart. To maintain the image, he cheats some more. He's climbing the academic ladder and graduates with high honors with grades coming from the knowledge and information of other people's minds.

In college, he thrives with cheating and can't see what can be so bad about it. It has become a habit, more than second nature, and it comes as a reflex action everytime there are requirements and exams. And what's worse, he gets recognized as one of the top people in class, maybe even in school. He graduates magna cum laude, thanks to his great ability of knowing the right person to copy from.

And we all think, someday he'll get what he deserves.

Someday he'll be caught and punished.

Someday no one will believe him anymore.

Someday he will regret he ever did cheat.

Someday he will be dismayed by the kind of dishonest person that he became.

But the truth is, this world is unfair. This life is never fair.

Maybe he'll be punished for it all. But more often than not, these cheaters get away with it. It's what they do all their lives. They're professionals in what they do. And so they become rich, successful in the eyes of others, maybe even be happy. They will have families who believe in getting things done the easy way and for the rest of their lives they will sit back and try to weasel themselves out of any work, but still get profit, benefit and maybe even awarded.

What a big misconception.

True, this world is not fair.

But there is more than this world.

People have to live with the knowledge that there is more to life than this world.

What a most horrible misconception it is for those people who think they got away.

Because after they successfully cheated their way in this life, they will face all that they deserve in the next.

So it's best to learn your lessons early.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
08/21/2007
09:31pm

A tribute to IV-St. John batch 2002-2003.

staying power

2007-08-19T06:26:00.000-07:00

I have found one of the secrets to staying put. To endurance.

If you really love what you are doing, if you really love where you are,

forget everything else about it.

It's enough that you know you love what you do.

Everything surrounding it would have to be, no matter how hard it is, ignored.

If you want to stay long, do not listen to the things people you don't know have to say about each other. It only breeds dismay, distrust and apprehensions.

If you want to stay long, more specifically do not listen to what other people you don't know have to say about you. It affects the quality of your performance and more importantly, your belief in what you can do.

If you want to stay long, ignore the long hours. The difference between other people's personalities and yours. The fear and the nerves.

If you want to stay long, you have to believe you want to stay long.

If you want to stay long, you have to keep your eyes on the prize.

If you want to stay long.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
08/19/2007
10:06pm

as expected

2007-08-15T07:56:00.000-07:00

My 21st Birthday Wishlist
...

...is blank.

Lesson: don't wish for things you know you won't receive, especially if they are not material things. The non-material things are the hardest things to give. Obviously, don't make a wishlist.

One's happiness is defined by one's own terms.

And I have decided,

that this month I will be happy,

no matter what.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
08/15/2007
11:04pm

Lessons from Mars

2007-07-29T21:22:00.000-07:00

“Every woman has the exact lovelife she wants.”
-Nick Mercer, The Wedding Date

My initial reaction to the above quote was just like every other female’s: “What?! What was he thinking? Surely not. He doesn’t understand.” For, remembering what the character opposite Nick Mercer, Kat Ellis said, “Do you honestly believe that I want to be single and miserable?”

Upon closer inspection, though, one may notice that the statement may hold some truth in it.

Yes, perhaps it may be because of my doing that I am still single and, though not miserable, skeptical.

I always say that I am passionate about the performing arts. Honestly though, no matter what my friends and people who love me say, I am not a breathtakingly excellent singer, neither am I a very brilliant actor (yes, no matter what even Atty. Avecilla’s opinion is, I am not). I know this because I know I can give so much more.

But I keep on holding back.

I am not an exceptional singer because I am always afraid of not being able to reach the high notes. I am absolutely appalled at the thought of my voice breaking in the middle of a sustained high note in the front of other people that my throat closes up even before I start singing. I am afraid of singing alone, my voice being heard singularly with no other voice to harmonize with. I always had this thought in my mind, a belief, if you might call it, that I cannot sing solo and so avoided it if I can. But that doesn’t keep me from the truth that I want to.

I have always, always underestimated my vocal range. I am apprehensive of singing a piece with high notes even when I know I am capable of singing it. I am hesitant even when I know I can reach the high notes when no one’s watching, or when I’m just singing to my mom as I massage her to sleep; I am hesitant even when I was re-classified as a soprano in my last performance; I am hesitant even when I had the strong feeling our conductor was considering transferring me to soprano2 in the last choir I was part of before I left(I didn’t even tell anyone about that, after all it was just a feeling and everyone knows how feelingera I can be).

And so, I am responsible for that.

I am not an exceptional actor because I am always cautious. I think I bagged all the lead roles in high school because back then I didn’t care so much about looking silly or messing up. I find out though that as I added years to my age I held back more and more. I want directions, and I want to follow them strictly. It was not like before when I just let myself loose in the character and experiment; when I was not afraid to become the character.

I think recently I made sure I did not give too much. I remember what I did while shooting a class project: when we worked on the parting scene, I actually felt the heaviness of goodbyes tug my heart, but my head kept telling me I was not ready to show all of that in the camera. And so while the camera was rolling I suddenly laughed (to the irritation of my groupmates, for sure; but they were good at hiding it) and we had to have a second take. Nobody knew I laughed to shake off the genuine feelings my character is supposed to be experiencing.

I also didn’t want to be conspicuous, and the world knows that is not what acting is all about. Who ever heard of someone standing on a stage in front of an audience and wanting to be inconspicuous must think the situation was a joke. But that’s what I did: I made sure I did not stand out from the ensemble. I did not want to make mistakes. I especially did not want to make mistakes while everyone is watching.

And so, I am also responsible for that.

It’s sad now that I think of it: doing something you love and holding back so much that you are not able to show just how much you can sparkle doing it. Tiptoeing around everybody and everything that it doesn’t seem like you belong there at all.

The bottomline is I was too afraid.

And that, I think, is why I have never been un-single.

I am afraid of not being in control that I take steps in another direction the moment I sense there can be something. I am afraid of being caught off-guard that I scare people even before they can approach. I am afraid of being too soft that I show just how stubborn my pride can be. I am afraid of being in the losing end that I take steps to make sure every small situation, every minute detail ends up with me winning. And I am absolutely afraid of seeing all these defenses I put around myself crumble.

I am afraid that one person might turn out to be just like all the others: unwilling to give as much, unable to stand up for oneself, incapable of being sensitive and disinclined to commit.

I am afraid of taking chances and not knowing what will happen next.

I am afraid to be hurt.

And so, true to Nick Mercer’s theory, it is my choice to live like this.

It is also now evident why I am, as I hope I am, a good writer. I am very honest and transparent in my writing. I leave incriminating evidence for everyone to read. I don’t hold back. I don’t care about sounding foolish. I believe my writing not only helps me keep my thoughts in order but may also be able to help someone in the future or assure others that they are not alone.

This dissection I did therefore brought me to the realization that I can’t keep on being a hindrance to myself. There are no antagonists, only my own fears and doubts. I can’t keep on consciously pushing myself into a box. I can’t keep myself from trying.

Try, after all, is what I never stop doing,

Opposite giving up, which is non-existent on my to-do list.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
02:49am
07/30/2007

I now have a good answer if you ask me again. IF you ask me again.

honesty of all honesties

2007-07-21T21:47:00.000-07:00

“You believe a man can change his destiny?”

“I think a man does what he can, until his destiny is revealed.”

-Nathan Algren answering Katsumoto,
The Last Samurai

Why am I stuck in a rut? I’ve been living the life of a useless person for three months now. With no job to keep me busy and make me useful, I have read and re-read all my books, watched and re-watched all the videos in the house, played (no, not all, there are simply too many) the games in my laptop, watched the TV programs, immersed myself in laziness that I couldn’t write even for my blog, which was supposed to consist of no-brainer writing, and yes, continued to ask for monetary support from my mother and sister while most of my blockmates have been earning for themselves for quite some time now.

And still I ask, why? Did I choose to be like this? Did I choose to go into housewife training? Did I choose to put my brain on hibernate mode?

Truth is, I know why.

I think perhaps I did subject myself to this (okay, that was more than perhaps) because I was too hung-up thinking of the future. I didn’t want to make a wrong move that would potentially mess up the big picture, and in doing so, I forgot to continue doing what was in front of me. I thought too much about everything that can potentially happen that I put my life on hold in the process.

Truth is, all those advice I say to close friends I actually am telling myself:

I have to start somewhere.

One may be too preoccupied with doing everything right that one may fail to notice all the opportunities waiting in the sidelines.

Success does not come overnight.

The world is not a bright and sunny place. One would have to deal with that fact eventually.

One should not be too obsessed with the future.

Because there is today to reckon with. And one cannot get to the future without passing by today. But if one does just let today pass by, there might not be a future to look forward to.

I do realize that going to the destination constitutes a long and tiring journey. And that like what Nathan Algren said, a man has to do what he can. One’s destiny does not simply present itself without personal action.

So I should be less cautious about making mistakes. Someone once told me, there are two ways through which people learn: by listening, or by making mistakes. If I do make mistakes, which of course I am bound to make inevitably, being human, I realize now that they are not intended to mess up the big picture; they are in fact part of the big picture. The canvas is there to be painted at, and it wouldn’t be much of a picture if it was one color throughout, would it? A red there, a green here, and maybe even some vermillion, aubergine and cerulean would definitely add meaning to the picture.

So when people look at the picture, they would say, now that’s an interesting one. One has lived his life indeed.

God forgive me for being a servant full of flaws. I know He did already. In the first place, He knows all my weaknesses and He loves me anyway.

And God help me, I will have a job very soon.

Enough looking at the traffic. I am crossing the threshold.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
07/20/2007
06:19pm

at a loss [or simply lost]

2007-06-24T00:37:00.000-07:00

We Might As Well Be Strangers
Keane

I don't know your face no more
Or feel your touch that I adore
I don't know your face no more
It's just a place I'm looking for

We might as well be strangers in another town
We might as well be living in a different world
We might as well
We might as well
We might as well

I don't know your thoughts these days
We're strangers in an empty space
I don't understand your heart
It's easier to be apart

We might as well be strangers in another town
We might as well be living in a another time
We might as well
We might as well
We might as well be strangers
Be strangers

For all I know of you now
For all I know of you now
For all I know of you now
For all I know

it's been a long, long, long, LONG time since that first time i saw you. do you know that:

i waited two years before you were even aware of my existence.

i waited one and a half months before you said your first word to me.

i waited one month before i got to spend time with you.

i waited three weeks before that happened again.

and then i waited and waited and waited still. i waited but it has been two months since we last saw each other. and that did not follow the trend (refer to above) of having shorter periods of time between events. i waited but it will be almost three weeks since the last text message i received from you.

waiting. it's all i do. waiting without hope or agenda. waiting without ever knowing what i am waiting for, or if i really am waiting for something, or someone.

and now is when i accept that i may not hear from you ever again. but does that give me the resolve to stop waiting?

i'm so tired of not getting tired. i never give up. i wish i would sometimes.

did you notice that the entire month, all the entries were for you? all the songs refer to you.

of course you don't know that. as i might expect, perhaps you wouldn't care at all.

because after all that waiting,

and after all those talks,

and after all that time that slowly crept out of our hands,

YOU STILL DON'T KNOW ME.

and i don't think you really wanted to know me in the first place.

and no matter how hard i wish it were otherwise, the truth is,

I DON'T THINK I KNOW YOU EITHER.

and i don't know if you really wanted me to know you in the first place.

WE MIGHT AS WELL BE STRANGERS.

do you know how hard it is, wishing for something, hoping for it to come true, seeing it happen... and then realizing it was not what you wished for? i bet you don't.

the problem with dreams is, they're of a different realm with reality.

for all it's worth, i am thankful that i have almost nothing to hold on to. too little to remember for a long time.

do you know that i don't forget?

do you know that i never had this much concern over someone i have little, bordering-on-none emotional attachment with?

of course you wouldn't know that.

you see normally, people do not concern themselves with matters regarding strangers.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
06/29/2007
07:57pm

does this mean i'll stop waiting for a stranger who won't arrive? i wish that too.

you shouldn't have

2007-06-14T00:10:00.000-07:00

Linger
Cranberries

If you, if you could return
Don't let it burn, don't let it fade
I'm sure I'm not being rude
But it's just your attitude
It's tearing me apart
It's ruining everything

And I swore, I swore I would be true
And honey so did you
So why were you holding her hand
Is that the way we stand
Were you lying all the time
Was it just a game to you

But I'm in so deep
You know I'm such a fool for you
You got me wrapped around your finger
Do you have to let it linger
Do you have to, do you have to
Do you have to let it linger

Oh, I thought the world of you
I thought nothing could go wrong
But I was wrong I was wrong
If you, if you could get by
Trying not to lie
Things wouldn't be so confused
And I wouldn't feel so used
But you always really knew
I just wanna be with you

And I'm in so deep
You know I'm such a fool for you
You got me wrapped around your finger
Do you have to let it linger
Do you have to do you have to
Do you have to let it linger

And I'm in so deep
You know I'm such a fool for you
You got me wrapped around your finger
Do you have to let it linger
Do you have to, do you have to
Do you have to let it linger

You know I'm such a fool for you
You got me wrapped around your finger
Do you have to let it linger
Do you have to, do you have to
Do you have to let it linger

ito na naman po ang pag-emphasize sa super relatable lyrics, only to cover almost the entire song.

anyways,

i just wanted to tell you

that you really shouldn't have.

i don't know what kind of satisfaction people may have when they are able to deceive other people.

i understand that you're not the person that i have pictured in my mind [placed in a frame, an idea of perfection]. i know it's highly improbable anyway. perfection doesn not exist in this imperfect world.

but that is not what made me upset to this day. you would have showed me your imperfections and it would have been okay with me. i would have worked something out.

but i guess it doesn't matter with you in the first place. you love your present self.

and only your SELF.

and by the way,

i also want you to know,

that i am disturbed until now,

maybe even a little bit hurt (okay, so i have to admit that)

that you had to deceive me.

because i believed you.

i believed every single bit of you.

and i believed in you.

until now, i guess there are still parts of me that believe in you.

parts of me that believe there are still pieces of you which are not rotten. goodness that is repressed, suppressed and refused.

goodness that only comes out when it is acted out.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
06/14/2006
03:45pm

buti na lang talaga hindi ka nagbabasa ng blog na ito. inilabas ko na ang bituka ko.

choose your own adventure

2007-06-11T00:56:00.000-07:00

Fall For You
Nina

There's a right or wrong to know for everything
And the truth is somewhere written in between
But there's always something missing in the dark
Until you find the true condition of the heart

Well, I can visualize the pieces of a dream,
But it's not as far away as it may seem
But if truth be told, it's you that holds the key
To the question that defines my destiny

I've been in love, a time or two
I've seen the world, but not with you
I wanna fly and spread my wings
I don't wanna cry, I wanna sing
I wanna live and take a chance
I'm not afraid to love again
I wanna fall, fall for you
And I want you to fall for me too

I've had plenty conversations with my heart
Coz I want this thing to work, not fall apart
So, I ask my heart how it can be so sure
And it answers me because your heart is pure

I've got every expectation that is true
Coz my heart won't lie to me, much less to you
But if truth be told, it is you that holds the key
To the future that becomes our destiny

I've been in love, a time or two
I've seen the world, but not with you
I wanna fly and spread my wings
I don't wanna cry, I wanna sing
I wanna live and take a chance
I'm not afraid to love again
I wanna fall, fall for you
And I want you to fall for me too

Until the mountain snow melts into the stream
My heart flows like the river to sea
To the heavens up above,
I pray to God our destiny is love

I've been in love, a time or two
I've seen the world, but not with you
I wanna fly and spread my wings
I don't wanna cry, I wanna sing
I wanna live and take a chance
I'm not afraid to love again
I wanna fall, fall for you
And I want you to fall for me too.

The Space Between
Dave Matthews Band

You cannot quit me so quickly
There's no hope in you for me
No corner you could squeeze me
But I got all the time for you, love

The space between
The tears we cry
is the laughter keeps us coming back for more
The space between
The wicked lies we tell
And hope to keep safe from the pain

But will I hold you again?

These fickle, fuddled words confuse me
Like 'Will it rain today?'
Waste the hours with talking, talking
These twisted games we're playing

We're strange allies
With warring hearts
What a wild-eyed beast you'll be

The space between
The wicked lies we tell
And hope to keep safe from the pain

Will I hold you again?
Will I hold...

Look at us spinning out in
The madness of a roller coaster
You know you went off like a devil
In a church in the middle of a crowded room
All we can do, my love
Is hope we don't take this ship down

The space between
Where you're smiling high
Is where you'll find me if I get to go
The space between
The bullets in our firefight
Is where I'll be hiding, waiting for you
The rain that falls
Splash in your heart
Ran like sadness down the window into your room
The space between
Our wicked lies
Is where we hope to keep safe from pain

Take my hand
'Cause we're walking out of here
Oh, right out of here
Love is all we need, dear

The space between
What's wrong and right
Is where you'll find me hiding, waiting for you
The space between
Your heart and mine
Is the space we'll fill with time

The space between...

Hindi ko alam kung ano talaga ang gusto mo. Malabo kang kausap. Lahat yata ng paraan ginawa ko na. Perhaps it's really hard to deal with you. Or perhaps you really don't want to deal with me at all.

Kaya ayan. Choose your own adventure. Dalawa ang songs of the moment. Good-natured and hopeful; Dreary and resigned.

Bahala ka na.

Alam na siguro ng mga tao kung aling kanta ang pipiliin ko.

But i guess it wouldn't matter much to you.

I wouldn't matter much to you.

Is this how it feels waking up from a dream?

then maybe i shouldn't have dreamt you in the first place.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
06/11/2007
04:36pm

ang unang kanta

2007-06-01T02:58:00.000-07:00

Suntok sa Buwan
Session Road

Hindi mo ba alam
Damdamin ko'y pinagtakpan
Makasama ka'y suntok sa buwan

'Di mo nga alam
Mundo mo nga'y iyong tignan
Kung ganyan, walang pupuntahan

Hindi ko 'to gusto
Pero 'wag kang lalayo

Itanong mo sa akin
At tatanungin ko rin
Kung ika'y aamin
Lahat ay gagawin

'Di mo napapansin
Kailangan mo akong dinggin
'Di habang buhay ika'y aantayin

Ito'y aking hiling
At sana naman ay tanggapin
Ng puso ko'y 'di nabibitin

Hindi ko 'to gusto
Pero 'wag kang lalayo

Itanong mo sa akin
At tatanungin ko rin
Kung ika'y aamin
Lahat ay gagawin.

Sabi ko iha-highlight ko 'yung mga bahaging saktong sakto para sa nararamdaman ko ngayon. Kung ano ang gusto kong sabihin sa'yo. Tapos 'yung buong unang bahagi pala ng kanta ang maha-highlight, haha.

Nakakatawang isipin na habang iniisip kita ay maaaring ni hindi mo ako naaalala. Kahit mabasa mo pa ito palagay ko'y hindi mo malalaman na ikaw ang pinatuturingan nito. Magaling akong magtago, 'di ba?

Mabuti na rin siguro 'yon.

Dahil kapag nalaman mo pa, e di sino na naman ang talo.

Hay naku buhay, kailan ba ako makakaroon ng masayang post dito patungkol sa mga usapin ng damdamin.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
06/01/2006
06:20pm

para sa akin

2006-12-27T04:48:00.000-08:00

na-realize ko na ayokong maging gift sa sarili ang previous entry. kung gagawin ko 'yun, gift ko na lang sa kanya.

may ibang gift kasi ako sa sarili ko.

nas mahalaga at mas tine-treasure ko sa aking buhay.

alam ko, maraming tutol. maraming may alinlangan. nag-aalinlangan sa kakayahan ko. masakit kasi alam ko kahit mismong mga kaibigan ko nagdududa kung kaya ko. oo nga, it has been too long. my star has tarnished. i can feel the rust eating my very bones.

that's why i'm battling against it. i won't let it.

i will rise again.

salamat sa pamilya kong alam ang laman ng aking puso at alam kung ano ang mga simpleng pangarap, mga simpleng bagay na gusto kong gawin sa buhay ko.

kaya oo, itutuloy ko.

tumawa na ang gustong tawanan ako, magtaas na ng kilay ang mga silent critic, manlibak na kahit mismong mga kaibigan ko, magalit na ang hindi makakaintindi.

pagtapak ko pa lang sa kolehiyo pinangarap ko nang gawin ito. pababayaan ko bang umalis ang mga yabag ko sa pamantasan nang hindi ko ito nagagawa? baka hindi ako matahimik habambuhay.

kaya gagawin ko na nga.

utang na loob, regalo ko naman sa sarili ko.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
12/27/2006
09:20pm

sa'yo na naman

2006-12-19T00:09:00.000-08:00

ang tagal na mula nang makita ko ang bago mong friendster account.

hanggang ngayon, 30 pa rin ang friends mo. pero isa siya sa mga 'yon. at hanggang ngayon, hindi mo pa rin ako iniinvite. napapaisip tuloy ako kung hindi ka talaga nag-iinvite ng friends at hinihintay lang na sila ang mag-invite sa 'yo. nahahalata tuloy na hanggang ngayon, "investigative journalist" mode pa rin ako sa account mo (my better way of saying WOOO-knows-what).

sabi ko sa sarili ko, friends naman tayo, 'di ba? (wahahaha, FGS coreen, stop it, you're sounding like someone rica knows.=D)

magbibilang ako ng mga araw.

at kung maramdaman ko na marahil dapat nga,

ako na ang mag-iinvite.

Christmas gift ko sa 'yo.

...

...

...

o baka naman para sa sarili ko ang regalo.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
12/19/2006
04:19pm

And To You Too

2006-12-12T22:54:00.000-08:00

First gift of the month: a smile and an acknowledgment.

From this day forth, I will smile on the streets (I will do this to the best of my ability even if I'm thinking of thesis) and return the greeting to anyone who greets me good morning, good afternoon, good evening or whatever salutation. It's a good gift especially this shopping season, when we see sales clerks everyday. I know it's protocol for them to greet the customers, but their greetings are rarely given notice and even more seldom returned. I can just imagine how it would help them, even just for a little bit, to stand in their heels longer if they see people smile at them.

It's weird because in whatever language taught, it's always the first thing to learn: how to greet and respond to a greeting. If it's true that Filipinos are friendly people, how come this communication lesson is rarely practiced in the malls?

To see that people notice you, that people are nice, that not all people rush through life and so you should take a cue from them - wouldn't that change the world even just a little?

This is my gift to all the people I don't know but take notice when I am there.

Have a good day, everyone.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
12/13/2006
12:28am

Welcome to December!

2006-12-12T22:52:00.000-08:00

It's been a very long break from blog-dom (yes, I invent words in my spare time), but nevertheless, I come back for December, which I want to call Gift Month. Gifts I will give, gifts I want to receive; they're all here.

Let's open the present of the last month of the year!

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
12/13/2006
12:13am

ayoko

2006-11-20T03:59:00.000-08:00

Why am I like this to her?

I know it's not right. I don't have the right.

But I can't find it in me to accept that that's just the way she is. I refuse to accept that.

Sometimes I also think that perhaps it's really just all my fault, that I'm selfish and that I'm only acting this way because I want to feel like a pampered lastborn and that I'm a stingy brat who doesn’t want to share her things.

Maybe.

Maybe I'm an immature bad girl.

I have overstepped the boundaries of throwing tantrums. And I'm not loving it.

If I can reprimand myself, I will. But right now, I just can't help but behave this way. My heart feels heavy by doing so, but it's my only way to show her that I am disapproving the way she throws away her life.

Maybe I'm like this because I am an avoidant myself, and I don't have the strength to tell her what I really think.

I'm like this because I can't stand the way she keeps on wasting all the chances that are given her. I'm like this because I just can't imagine how someone can do practically nothing but eat, sleep and waste electricity, without remorse of what she's doing (or has not done). I'm like this because I can't understand how an adult like her is so engrossed in games that she practically lives and breathes them. I can't imagine how someone can wake up and open her cell phone game first thing, and fall asleep playing it. I'm like this because she doesn't seem to realize that she's not getting any younger but she's doing nothing with her life.

I'm like this because I'm afraid for her. Afraid the day will come when she realizes her life is going nowhere, that she can't stand alone but no one can be responsible for her anymore; afraid it might be too late when she does realize.

Maybe I want to make her realize that.

But how can I, if I don't tell her?

All I do is put a bigger and bigger barrier between us.

Maybe I'm like this because I'm afraid to be like her. Maybe I'm like this because sometimes, I feel that if I let myself, I can actually be just as she is.

God help me.

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
11/20/2006
02:12am

back again

2006-11-07T21:02:00.000-08:00

November is Why Month in thewaytofly.

Why?

Why not?

lavender-wilwarin
coreenangelicafernandezchan
08/11/2006
01:00pm