Supernatural feels

I’ve been neck-deep in Supernatural seasons for the last month or so since I’ve a lot of catching up to do. My weekends have been nothing but adventures with the Winchesters and Castiel. I’m currently at season 6. The story’s direction from season 4 onwards made me reflect on my own faith, or lack thereof. I think I identify with Sam the most – believing in something (or at least wanting to), but so many things have happened that gave me reasons not to. I’m still where I was at the last time I wrote about this, in that I believe in a supreme being or god. I want to believe, because not believing in anything can get pretty damn exhausting at times. It’s good to be able to lift your worries to something higher than yourself, even just for a while, believing that things will work themselves out. Sometimes I find myself praying out of habit, yet I know that in the end, it will still be out of my own efforts and help from others that I see whatever it is through.

The conflict of destiny versus free will was also something that really got me thinking. It’s so easy to say that something (or someone) was not meant for you when things didn’t work out, but is that really the case? Did you really try hard enough? Or were you simply chasing after something you thought you wanted but knew otherwise? Is there really anything so absolute in this world that we are not allowed to carve our own paths and make our own stories? I don’t know. I don’t usually think about these things, but damn Castiel and his rebelliousness put these thoughts in my head. Besides, I don’t think there’s ever only one answer, nor do I think there are wrong or right ones. I’m betting this is the PMS talking (or writing), but regardless – the fact still stands that watching the show started all these thoughts.

On a lighter note, Misha Collins is brilliant as Castiel. Really. Jensen Ackles has excellent comedic timing. Jared Padalecki is the perfect Sam to Jensen’s Dean. Richard’s Gabriel is quite possibly one of my favorite characters in any form of art. Bobby Singer is one bad ass motherfucker and the dad the Winchesters need (Jim Beaver, you precious thing). And CROWLEY, OMG. Mark A. Sheppard has been in two of my other favorite fandoms, Doctor Who and Firefly. He is my hero. (In the craft, of course, not as a demon.)

I’m gonna go sleep this off now. Damn feels.

Post-clubbing thoughts

The only reason I decided to go was because I couldn’t sleep from all the endorphins released by my stint at the gym. I’d finally agreed to meet my friends at around 11pm. It was the first time in the quarter of a century that is my life that I’d stepped into a legit club. It was supposedly the newest and most exclusive club in town. The lobby was unassuming and normal enough looking. I was under dressed for the occasion, as expected, and had been told to please wear something closed or with heels next time. I gave the receptionist a small smile and shrugged, stepping tentatively through the massive black doors, Union Flag top and black jeans in tow.

Music was blasting against a backdrop of geometric and/or flashing lights that, to be frankly honest, made my head hurt slightly. It wasn’t too full when we got there, so we proceeded to our overpriced table that was much smaller than the ones at Starbucks. Deciding to make the most out of what we’d be paying, I ordered a Jack & Coke instead of the usual beer. Minutes passed and people started trickling it. I was quite surprised by the diversity – everyone from foreigners to yuppies to college students to socialites to people who looked as equally uncomfortable as me.

I had no idea what the dynamics inside a club were, so I proceeded to imitate my friends and dance, though my move consisted mostly of stepping from side to side. I wasn’t drunk enough to bust more ambitious moves. And then suddenly four guys approached our table and started introducing themselves.

I will admit that what happened next was quite a blur – and I do mean this in an intentional way because I would rather not remember in detail the awkwardness that ensued -  but to summarize: I got hit on by a college student who thought my name was Julia, but decided on calling me Annie because I apparently reminded him of the said character in Community. I didn’t know whether to find it cute or insulting (he actually gestured that I had sizeable boobs – what?), but I tried my best to roll with the punches. We had a decent enough conversation, with him managing to reveal how hard we was trying to make himself cool while exposing his naivete in the process. Thank god those places were naturally dark or else he would have caught me cringeing more than once. He eventually had to leave and actually kissed me on the cheek before I’d even realized what he was doing.

That was not the first time our table got approached or handshakes were exchanged. Conversations were screamed, and half the time I didn’t even know what their names were or what the hell they were saying. So I just smiled and nodded and hoped they would eventually go away.

Since drinks were expensive, I never really got the chance to get drunk so I couldn’t let loose. To be fair, though, clubs are good venues for people watching. There were lots of attractive people that I could have spent hours staring at but which, due to propriety’s sake, I couldn’t. Then there were the middle-aged people who were really going wild on the dance floor – and while it was slightly entertaining, I didn’t know whether I’d feel ashamed or sorry for them. But hey, it’s their life (and we later on found out they were on some sort of pub/club crawl and left for some other happening place). There also seemed to be an office gathering, a large group of people who were hooting and yelling at one another while bystanders watched amusedly.

And then there was us. The singles. Were we there for the dancing? The music? The drinks? Or were we hoping to be swept away that night by some handsome man with decent moves and musty smelling cologne? Then again, what were the chances of meeting someone special in a club, when admittedly, the agenda of the majority was to simply have a good time? What were the chances of, at the risk of sounding cheesy, finding that one person for you inside a dark place with pulsating lights and music that wouldn’t even allow you to construct proper sentences? Perhaps we weren’t in the right place; or rather, I wasn’t in the right place. (I’m not saying it’s not possible, because I know some percentage out there might have met the love of their life at a club. I am merely speaking for my case.)

I’ve always been more of a pub/home drinking kind of person with great friends and even better music. I appreciate good conversations, and with house music blaring like we were all hearing impaired, the club was certainly not an ideal place for that. I had, however, always been interested in what goes on inside these exclusive clubs, and managed to get an idea that night. I know I shouldn’t generalize as it was only my first time, but it has cemented the fact that the clubbing scene is really not for me. I’m not an acquaintance type of person. I loathe small talk, and awkward first meetings are right up there on my least favorite things (right next to flying cockroaches). I don’t invest my time or emotions just like that, which is probably why quick fixes don’t really work for me in terms of relationships (whether friendship or something else entirely).

Don’t get me wrong, I still enjoyed the night, mostly because of my friends. But I’ll tell you what, I had an even better time after, when my friend and I decided to leave early and stuff our faces instead with pancakes and hash browns at a nearby IHOP while we lamented existential matters and the state of our love lives – or in my case, lack thereof. Ah, yes, now THAT was a bloody good time.

wondering (and wandering)

i wonder how it feels
to be consumed with passion about something
or someone, maybe
but more of an experience
of not being able to breathe or sleep without working towards it
to the one that consumes your thoughts
the one that gets you out of bed every single day
and be the best you that you can be
(or not get out of it out of the sheer helplessness of wanting)
because knowing that you didn’t give your all
would break your heart
because it deserves your best
it deserves your all
and so much more

i wonder how that feels
and i’m scared
because i might spend the rest of my life wondering

Nowhere else to place my feelings

Last night, I had the opportunity to see The Script live in Manila for the second time. I’d first seen them back in 2011, and that was when I officially became a fan. At that time I’d only known their more famous songs like Breakeven and The Man Who Can’t Be Moved. A week before their show, I scrambled to learn the rest of the songs from the Science and Faith Album. When I heard You Won’t Feel A Thing live, it instantly became one of my favorite songs of all time. It is beautiful lyrically and musically. Nothing was bittersweet in delivery and the story behind it was something many of us could relate to at some point (at least in feeling, if we never got around to picking up the phone).

I swore I would watch them again if they came back. And they did, last night. While it was evident that touring was taking its toll on the boys – they are only human, after all – their spirits still defied physical constraints and their emotions bled through every song. The crowd was so much better and much bigger this time around – the energy was electric and constant. Not a single moment when no applause or scream or declaration of love could be heard. Goosebumps were ever present and the coliseum simply flowed with appreciation for the band’s talent and hard work.

Watching and hearing them also, if I may borrow a line from Love Actually, put my life into a rather harsh perspective. As Glen beat the shit out of the drums, and Mark danced with his guitar across the stage and Danny sang his heart out for the audience, I felt so small. There they were, touching and saving the lives of people through one of the most potent platforms humanity has ever created, and here I was, still unsure of my purpose on earth.

Music is one of my greatest loves and my frustration in life (among many) is to be a musician – be it a singer or a guitarist or a bassist or a producer – I don’t care, anything to do with music! To see other people be able to do that with so passion and ecstasy (their smiles on stage could be seen miles away) breaks and mends my heart. It breaks my heart because how I wish I, too, were doing what they were doing, yet it is mended because I am extremely grateful that people like them exist. People who can create such wonderful words and rhythms and thoughts that we barely have the ability or courage to muster. People who take away the burden of keeping everything inside us and allowing us to feel things organically through their music.

I’ve been seeing posts  somewhere of The Script not being just a band, and I think I understand that now. I would like to believe that it is never too late for anything – and who knows, I might find myself involved with music at some point, producing at the very least  – but for now I will live vicariously through them for their songs are those I wish I had written to help people heal, feel and keep on loving.

why am i eternally restless?

that constant feeling of wanting to crawl out of my skin gnaws at the back of my mind every single moment of every single day.

i do not want to be here. i want to be outside of me. i do not want to participate in life – i want to be on the side and look. observe. feel things for others. bask in the joy of others. but i do not want to feel for myself, because it scares me. it scares the fuck out of me. it causes me anxiety to no end.

i do not want to feel anything. yet i want to feel everyone else’s everything.

i am so tired of feeling restless for no particular reason.

Note to self

This week I got some good news at work for which I have mixed feelings. I looked back to my performance last year and this was how I felt I did: I was unfocused, almost everything I did was reactive rather than proactive, and I truly believe I could have done better if I’d wanted to.

Yet these people still chose to see past my inabilities and recognized me in ways I never would have thought of about myself. I would have given myself a 5/10 at best based on last year’s performance, but they gave me more. And it was more than I feel I deserve.

Then again, aren’t you your own worst critic? Isn’t your greatest enemy yourself? I could have done extremely better if I’d wanted to, but I didn’t. This is what frustrates me the most. I do know, though, that I gave the minimum requirements. No matter how much I questioned everything I did, I still tried to deliver what was expected of me. Exceeding expectations was not my main goal. I just wanted to get by with a decent job.

The feedback blew me away. I think my boss was a bit puzzled as to why I was so incredulous when she revealed their rating, but given how I’ve evaluated my performance so far, she would’ve understood.

I do not mean this in a gloating or, on the other hand, a self-deprecating kind of way. More than anything, this is a reminder for me to shape-up and be more focused because what I do (and what everyone else does for that matter) is of value to something or someone. The opportunity to contribute, to help in something or someone’s improvement is always there, and if you’re going to, might as well contribute the hell out of it.

*feels pressured already*

Of careers and uncertainties

It’s no secret that I’ve always struggled internally with career issues. The kind of job I’m in demands a lot, and I believe I’m able to deliver the minimum requirements. I’m not the type who wants to climb the corporate ladder, at least not in this job. While others clamor for a promotion, I prefer to be in the sidelines, working quietly. But life being life, nothing stays the same for long and I have eventually been given bigger and heavier responsibilities. Sure, it might serve as a validation that maybe I am doing something right, and I am grateful (and slightly flattered) with the trust they put in me, but it does not necessarily mean I am happy about it. Every day I am anxious and unsettled, and every Sunday I cry a little bit inside knowing that it is going to be another crazy week. Yes, work has its rewards, its perks, its little breakthrough moments that help in the journey that is self-discovery, yet I still question whether this is all there is to career life.

For the longest time, I’ve resisted accepting where I am and what I have because I have somehow equated acceptance with resignation – resignation to the fact that I will always feel there is something more, there is something better out there for me. I would like to put it out there that I do not neglect work. At the end of the day, though, I always feel like I can do better but do not have enough motivation to act on it.

A large part of it stems from the fact that I am still unclear as to what I want to do with my life. There are options, of course, like my current job, as well as helping with the family business. For a while I toyed with the idea of working and/or studying abroad, but financial constraints have made them a bit more difficult to carry out (not impossible, just not as feasible as the others). The fact remains that I have to keep on trying and putting myself out there in the hopes of finding what it is I am meant to do. People tell me to stick to where I am because it pays well or it is prestigious or it fits my level of education. Is it worth it, though, knowing that I will never be truly happy in the status quo?

My perception of success and fulfillment are not the same as theirs, which is where all the judgment comes in. Over the years, I have learned to care less about what other people think, and while I still struggle with it sometimes, it is much easier now than a few years ago. I know this is not where I want to be 2 years from now. I have an idea of where I want to be, but I am not 100% sure about it. Then again, the only way you will ever find out if something works for you is if you try it. I have tried this, and I do not think this is the best thing for me to do, so I will move on to the next, still hoping it will finally be the one. What is life without uncertainties, right?

A few of my favorite songs

They say what you do on New Year will be like a prevailing theme of sorts for the rest of your year. It’s nearly 22 hours into the 1st of January, and so far I’ve spent it eating, napping and sharing stories with my family. Not a bad start, I’d say. I was tempted to work, but I’ve never been one to put work above family (or holidays). I would rather cram than give up family time to check my emails, so I decided to blog instead.

I’ve been thinking of posting something like this a few days ago when I heard the line “but with you, I feel again” from Feel Again by OneRepublic. I was suddenly overcome with warmth and fuzzies (is that even a word?), which is not unusual when I hear one of my favorite songs come up. This got me thinking about the songs that give me the same or similar feeling, hence the list below. More often than not, the songs have certain lines that really left a mark on me. Some I’ve associated with a significant time in my life, and never fail to induce nostalgia when I hear them. At one point, I could listen to nothing but one of these songs.

So, I now bring you 12 of my favorite songs as of 2012 (because let’s face it, the list is bound to change).

1. Only One by Yellowcard – I first heard this nearly 8 years ago and it still gives me the same feeling when I hear it now. That mixture of longing and frustration tugs at my heart when I hear this song, and I love to belt this out when I feel the same way.

2. Tadhana by Up Dharma Down – Tadhana is Tagalog for destiny or fate. Attempting to translate the lyrics will lose its impact, so you will have to take my word for it when I say this is one of those hits-you-hard-in-the-gut type of songs. All the unsaid feelings, the uncertainties and (again) frustrations are captured so aptly in this song. I’m listening to it right now, and it took me a while to type this out because I had to stop and sing along.

3. Burnout by Sugarfree – While the title is English, the song is Tagalog. My favorite line here is “O, kay tagal din kitang minahal” which roughly translates to “Oh, I’ve loved you for so long now”, and my heart just jumps a little when I hear it. It’s the giddy/heartbreaking type of feels, and if there’s that one person who you’ve loved for so long but you’re kinda feeling the I-don’t-know-what-to-do-with-myself-anymore thing for him/her, you’d want them to hear this song. On full blast. On repeat.

4. Crash Into Me by Dave Matthews Band – One of the sexiest songs around, in my opinion, not just in terms of lyrics, but also in the way it was sung. It just keeps getting sexier and sexier the more I listen to it.

5. White Blank Page by Mumford & Sons – “Tell me now where was my fault in loving you with my whole heart?” and “Lead me to the truth and I will follow you with my whole life”. Do I even need to explain myself further? (Though I feel the need to point out the way the instruments swell towards the chorus, and the way Marcus Mumford sings “A white blank page, and swelling rage” really makes you feel the rage, you know?)

6. Torete by Moonstar88 – “Akala ko nung una may bukas ang ganito. Mabuti pang umiwas, pero salamat na rin ta nagtagpo“. Again, quite a lot has been lost in translation, but it somehow means: I thought what we had was going somewhere. It’s better to to stay away, but I’m still thankful we met. I don’t know how many times I’ve felt this (HAHA), but there’s also something with the way she sang it, like an innocent girl who’s had her heart broken for the first time, that makes me cry a little bit inside.

7. I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles) by The Proclaimers – Just pure good vibes, this song. I first found out about it on a forum, and it took me a while to warm up to it. The lyrics are sweet bordering on silly, and repetitive for the most part, but it never fails to put a smile on my face when I’ve had a bad day.

8. Fix You by Coldplay – One of their best songs hands down. It just gets to me on all levels – from the mundane losses to the life-altering ones, every word and every note of every instrument just came together to create something so moving. Indeed, it makes tears stream down my face.

9. Read My Mind by The Killers – “I don’t mind if you don’t mind, ’cause I don’t shine if you don’t shine.” It’s quirky and bittersweet, and it’s the song that started my love affair with the band. My other favorite is All These Things That I’ve Done (“I got soul but I’m not a soldier!”).

10. Bette Davis Eyes by Kim Carnes – I like to write fiction from time to time, and I draw some of my inspiration from music. There has never been any other song that has compelled me to write a character based on it than this song. Not that I’ve done it. There have been attempts, yes, but none have been successful. Every time I hear this, though, she resurfaces, and I itch to open a blank document to finally write her out. I don’t know if I’ll ever see her through, but I’ll keep on trying.

11. Feel Again by OneRepublic – Like I said up there, “but with you, I feel again” is the line that really struck me. It’s not necessarily because I can relate (God, I feel so many things all the time!), it’s because I find the line beautiful – imagine having someone make you feel something again after a long time of being so guarded. I think it’s romantic. Also, I heard Terry McDermott from The Voice season 3 sing this and fell in love with it even more.

12. All This And Heaven Too by Florence and the Machine – This basically sums up how I feel about my heart (or my emotions, on a less sentimental note). In all its ups and downs, you wish for nothing more than a moment of clarity to stop the onslaught of feelings and breathe for even just a second.

Well, that turned out longer than expected. There are more songs, of course, but then the list will be unreasonably long. In retrospect, it seems like the running theme is frustration. While it’s a bit embarrassing, is not entirely unexpected because I turn to music when there are things I cannot express. I’m not the type to unload on or vent to just anyone, so when those close to me are busy, or I don’t feel like bothering them, I listen to music instead. Thank God or I would have exploded.

A thought

First day of 2013 feels like any other day if only because you get the chance to start anew each day, not just each year. Good vibes to all!

Alone(ly)

I’ve always wondered what it’s like to be the “life of the party”, to be the kind of person who never had trouble striking up AND sustaining a conversation. As you may have surmised from my pevious posts, I’m not exactly the outgoing type. There are a few things I like better than awkward first meetings and small talks. I would choose a night at home with a good book over partying in a club in a heartbeat. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a hermit, and I am quite talkative with close friends and family (my mom, especially), but outside my small, safe circle, I’m like a deer in headlights. I can summon my outgoing side when work calls for it, though it takes extraordinary effort on my part and leaves me drained at the end of the day.

For the most part I’m not bothered by my type of personality. I like being left alone; it allows me to regroup, gather my eternally scattered self and reflect on life (a clear euphemism for overthinking, if we’re being honest). I like the fact that I actually enjoy me time – I have no qualms watching a movie or having a meal in a restaurant by myself. Solitude combined with music is my ideal best friend. 

But I would be lying if I said a small part of me didn’t wish to be more extroverted. How my friends are able to converse with other people effortlessly, to make new friends like it was the most natural thing to do, to avert awkward situations with their wit and presence of mind is beyond me. Even though I’ve had my fair share of nights out with random social circles, I’m still the quiet one in the group. I might come off as aloof, but I’m not. I just don’t know how to carry myself in these kinds of situations. Is it something you’re born with? Or is there still a chance for introverts like me to hone these skills?

I suspect it’s a combination of  factors, which holds true for a lot of other things, really. Still, a little help on these things wouldn’t hurt.