i don't usually go out drinking whenever i got work the next day. two nights ago, however, i came home not as sober as i was expecting. i was not supposed to drink, but the beer was just way too inviting.
i brushed my teeth, and on my way out of the bathroom, i saw my toothbrush floating in the toilet bowl. i didn't even know how it got there.
i stooped down, and watched it that way for quite some time. i was comprehending things slowly. 'my toothbrush fell into the bowl. my toothbrush fell into the bowl. my toothbrush fell into the bowl..'
almost a year ago, i was the happiest person i could remember. simply because you made me. what happened, exactly? since we fell apart, everything else seemed like a lie. you were the only truth i ever held on to. but now that you've gone, i feel so vulnerable to all these lies. unprotected and unsafe.
holding on to the rim of the bowl for support, i stood up and picked up the toothbrush to throw it into the waste basket.
im tired. really, i am.
the longest time i ever spent in front of the toilet bowl, and through it all, i only thought about you.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
philippine daily inquirer
this is taken from the philippine daily inquirer. so true. read on.
Being Jane
Crisel Consunji
Philippine Daily Inquirer
March 03, 2010
I WENT INTO THIS WHOLE ADVENTURE TRYING TO FIND my Tarzan. I ended up finding myself.
A few months before flying to Hong Kong to work, someone asked me, “What do you plan to do there?”
“Oh,” I answered. “Perhaps I’ll visit Disneyland and find my Tarzan.”
My friend laughed off my silly reverie. “You’re kidding, right?” he said.
“No,” I said with the straightest face possible. “I’m sure he’s out there somewhere. He has probably evolved out of his loincloth and is now looking for his Jane.”
The joke was that perhaps I would finally meet my Tarzan, the hunk of a guy who would literally and figuratively sweep me off my feet. Maybe—just maybe—when environments change and new people are shuffled in front of your eyes, the man of your dreams sort of materializes before you.
So after I packed my bags and hopped on the plane, I looked into the first mirror I could find, and said to myself, “Crisel, you’re going to find the love of your life.” I was very sure I would find someone who would swing above the ravines of life with me.
That’s where the joke ends, though not the humor.
One thing I realized during the last two years of being away from home is that whenever we go off searching for something, we never find what we started the search for. We find something better than we ever hoped.
Surprisingly, in spite of the fact that I was free to do whatever I wanted, had Lan Kwai Fong (Hong Kong’s night-life district) a train ride away, and was surrounded by people so diverse that they would do the United Colors of Benetton campaign proud, I found that I preferred the peace and quiet of home to the late-night parties of the city.
And then it hit me: There is so much romance in being alone.
Have you ever tried going off to the bay and watching the sunset, without ever thinking that you need someone to share it with? Have you ever tried getting lost in a jungle of people, only to find that the noise outside does not drown the strong force of your silent thoughts? Have you ever tried to stop searching for love everywhere else, and begun to realize that you have all that you need with and around you?
In a weird and crazy way, I admit I have.
And in that time, I realized that there was still so much room to grow, a lot of experiences to learn from, and time to discover who I am, and who I would like to be. And that’s the whole point: to love another person, you must know how to be one. And that only happens when you have had enough time to figure out your own life.
I am still in that process. And well, yes, once or twice I actually considered giving my heart away—and once or twice I may have shed tears of frustration. But at the end of the day, I realized that nothing and no one should come between me and my heart. We all choose to risk—and we all should. Because risk tests our courage, and pain strengthens our resiliency.
But at the end of the day, we all come to the discovery that our hearts are very precious. And at one point in time, we have to make it stop searching, hold it still and remember that love does not want to be found. It finds us.
And it will find you.
Don’t be frustrated if no one seems to want the heart you are putting out there. Someone in the universe deserves it, and in the right time, he will be revealed to you.
Don’t waste your time offering your heart to people who will not see it for what it’s worth. Instead, hold it and nurture it. Nurture the love inside you, and save it for the person worth giving it to. And when that person comes, you will be so happy you gave it whole—without the scratches—and lovingly nourished by all the patience you have spent on striving to be a better person. Let our prayers not be that we might find the right one soon, but rather that we might become the right person for that person destined to be with us for the rest of our lives.
Call me hopeless, but I believe it’s true. You don’t have to wait for Tarzan. After all, he might still be figuring out whether he wants to walk on two feet—or four limbs. (And what would you do while the monkey contemplates his life?) But as long as you find the Jane inside of you, you will never be afraid to swing through all this.
Jane, you’re beautiful. And you’re going to be just fine!
Crisel Consunji, 25, is a Filipino performing artist currently working in Hong Kong. She originally wrote this as a Valentine’s Day introspection, and found that it appealed to many young singles.
Being Jane
Crisel Consunji
Philippine Daily Inquirer
March 03, 2010
I WENT INTO THIS WHOLE ADVENTURE TRYING TO FIND my Tarzan. I ended up finding myself.
A few months before flying to Hong Kong to work, someone asked me, “What do you plan to do there?”
“Oh,” I answered. “Perhaps I’ll visit Disneyland and find my Tarzan.”
My friend laughed off my silly reverie. “You’re kidding, right?” he said.
“No,” I said with the straightest face possible. “I’m sure he’s out there somewhere. He has probably evolved out of his loincloth and is now looking for his Jane.”
The joke was that perhaps I would finally meet my Tarzan, the hunk of a guy who would literally and figuratively sweep me off my feet. Maybe—just maybe—when environments change and new people are shuffled in front of your eyes, the man of your dreams sort of materializes before you.
So after I packed my bags and hopped on the plane, I looked into the first mirror I could find, and said to myself, “Crisel, you’re going to find the love of your life.” I was very sure I would find someone who would swing above the ravines of life with me.
That’s where the joke ends, though not the humor.
One thing I realized during the last two years of being away from home is that whenever we go off searching for something, we never find what we started the search for. We find something better than we ever hoped.
Surprisingly, in spite of the fact that I was free to do whatever I wanted, had Lan Kwai Fong (Hong Kong’s night-life district) a train ride away, and was surrounded by people so diverse that they would do the United Colors of Benetton campaign proud, I found that I preferred the peace and quiet of home to the late-night parties of the city.
And then it hit me: There is so much romance in being alone.
Have you ever tried going off to the bay and watching the sunset, without ever thinking that you need someone to share it with? Have you ever tried getting lost in a jungle of people, only to find that the noise outside does not drown the strong force of your silent thoughts? Have you ever tried to stop searching for love everywhere else, and begun to realize that you have all that you need with and around you?
In a weird and crazy way, I admit I have.
And in that time, I realized that there was still so much room to grow, a lot of experiences to learn from, and time to discover who I am, and who I would like to be. And that’s the whole point: to love another person, you must know how to be one. And that only happens when you have had enough time to figure out your own life.
I am still in that process. And well, yes, once or twice I actually considered giving my heart away—and once or twice I may have shed tears of frustration. But at the end of the day, I realized that nothing and no one should come between me and my heart. We all choose to risk—and we all should. Because risk tests our courage, and pain strengthens our resiliency.
But at the end of the day, we all come to the discovery that our hearts are very precious. And at one point in time, we have to make it stop searching, hold it still and remember that love does not want to be found. It finds us.
And it will find you.
Don’t be frustrated if no one seems to want the heart you are putting out there. Someone in the universe deserves it, and in the right time, he will be revealed to you.
Don’t waste your time offering your heart to people who will not see it for what it’s worth. Instead, hold it and nurture it. Nurture the love inside you, and save it for the person worth giving it to. And when that person comes, you will be so happy you gave it whole—without the scratches—and lovingly nourished by all the patience you have spent on striving to be a better person. Let our prayers not be that we might find the right one soon, but rather that we might become the right person for that person destined to be with us for the rest of our lives.
Call me hopeless, but I believe it’s true. You don’t have to wait for Tarzan. After all, he might still be figuring out whether he wants to walk on two feet—or four limbs. (And what would you do while the monkey contemplates his life?) But as long as you find the Jane inside of you, you will never be afraid to swing through all this.
Jane, you’re beautiful. And you’re going to be just fine!
Crisel Consunji, 25, is a Filipino performing artist currently working in Hong Kong. She originally wrote this as a Valentine’s Day introspection, and found that it appealed to many young singles.
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