dredging out the beeyatchy thoughts

not that yesterday was a depressing day. not entirely.

the happy-hour videoke with college buddy redel was one bright spot, at least. wouldn't you know--all this time the dude had known how to sing. and in his best moments (i.e. rich tenor renditions of "back at one" and "i'll be"), he may just as well give bryan mcknight a run for his money. (all praises ako kasi he's probably gonna be reading this. hahaha!). his repertoire was just strangely depressing, though. reminds me of someone else's.

aha. so that was where the depressing day began.

the last of the good times before i head of for the next adventure. surprisingly, i find myself with a lot of unfinished work in my hands. stuff that i have to finish within the next 48 hours, before the new adventure (loventure? i HATE that word!) begins.

oh dear, the headache's coming back again.

wasn't feeling very well yesterday. physically. my head was throbbing mad (never thought too much videoke could actually give one a headache) and i'd had too little sleep. but the day had to go on til 11 pm. against my will. when the flesh is weak the spirit can give in as well. talking to people through the numbing haze of a
headache was almost surreal. like i was talking underwater. listening underwater. moving underwater.

pain does that to you, doesn't it.

on any ordinary evening, could've gathered just enough energy to be animated enough for the introductory meeting with new "associates" (there's that term again) last night. even with a headache. but something was bothering me all evening, something that wasn't supposed to bother me anymore, not at this point, i've had enough of that haven't i.

but it was there. a splinter in my brain. lurking beneath the folds. a smoldering, bothersome ember of a thought that brought back memories of long-ago shouldve-been-forgotten heartaches.

word gets out. from one's ears to another's. i learned from a friend about what someone has just said about me. not entirely bad, but the bad aspect was just bad enough to overshadow what positive aspects there were. so i took it in the gut. coming from others i wouldn't have take it personally. i wouldn't give a sh**t. but everything concerning that person is personal for me. ironic. because our relationship had never been close to authentically personal in the first place.

when i had learned of what he'd said yesterday i remembered what he had said several months ago. about his impressions of me. that i was the antithesis of the Feminine Sweet, that i was--what was the term?--bitchy. that's so unfair, i ranted to near-tears, just because a girl says her thoughts out loud doesn't make her bitchy, just as being vocal about one's quasi-feminist convictions doesn't make one a man-hater. people make haphazard impressions all the time, i've gotten used to it, but this particular one had hurt me bad.

because of all people, man. of all people who would think of me that way, it had to be you.

at that time i had retaliated silently, on my own, in an oblique, confused way. the next day i chucked the black outfit and dark eyeliner in favor of the Sweet Girl Look. for kicks, even if it felt fake. the day after that the black outfit and eyeliner was back. decided that it didn't matter anyway, if i had the aura of a jessica zafra or a wednesday-friggin-adams. there's no virtue in trying to tone down what strong vibes there are in my personality just to fit the ideals of someone who will never really see me. a crime in the (quasi)feminist's eye.

yesterday all those sentiments came back in a flood. like some dike was just broken. i sat there at the meeting with the new "associates", mentally absent, contemplating on that little ember of thought through the haze of my yosi smoke and a headache.
frustrating, to want to hate someone so much, and be such a failure at it.

it didn't matter anyway, i realized. in the context of the big picture, it's just a detail that won't change the the Truth of the Matter. k, so i HATE the sweet and patweetums. i HATE the male a-holes who ogle and whistle at girls on the streets. i'm not some sunny Marcia Brady. but that doesn't make me a bitch. so to hell with what you think, little miss frog princess.

anyway. not that he did me any wrong. people can break hearts even if they didn't mean to.

what was i thinking, anyway, still thinking about you.