The 11 Tracks of 2011 – Perhaps The Late-st New Year Post

I have mentioned in my previous blog that I am to answer the generic 2011 survey, but I chose to skip it this time since a.) friends have already done it in their blogs b.) I’ve done that in facebook and multiply some N years ago and c.) I don’t feel like answering a roster of questions as if I’m in a talkshow or something.

I’d opt for a mixtape of sorts instead. 11 tracks for 2011. Yes, what a concept concerning numbers! I guess I will have to try to be more creative next time. Also, all links lead to last. fm since it’s the easiest way for me to search and backtrack my 2011 playlist and ponder about last year through music. FYI, I had my last.fm resurrected/reactivated last year. 🙂

So here goes a little of 2011:

  • Friends Lovers or Nothing by John Mayer – Vague boundaries and uncertainties. Proof that one small lacking thing makes a whole lot of difference to the whole. Lessons in unity of opposites learned.

 

 

This is the last time I’ll ever say I love you/This is the last night I’ll fall among these graves/The first and last time that I’ve cried/And walk beneath the dark lonely sky

  • Happy by Natasha Bedingfield – Instant get-happy song. Reminds me of good little things around and all the reasons to foster a positive disposition.

Keep your pride young girl/It’s your life, it’s your world

  • The Quiz by Hello Saferide – My questions and riddles. Your wit and unpredictable ways. Exactly the prelude to our story.

 

  • One Sweet Love by Sara Bareilles – To being lost and found, and the anticipation between. Because all Sara Bareilles songs need not be sad and sappy, some just have to be slow and sweet.

 

 

  • We Will Not Grow Old by Lenka – Says as much as Jewel’s This Way but with a more upbeat and playful touch. Cheers to our youthful hearts!

 

 

  • Your Song by Ellie Goulding – Part of the random mixtape of us I made up in my head. When no song seems to fit us, this might be probably apt. Or so I said because this is one song I wish I could sing you, or maybe I would, one day.

 

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There’s No 22 From The Former 22

It has been a personal tradition to write down every end of November the changes that occurred to me or to the things around me at least, during the entire year. I wanted not to write about it anymore for this entry has almost done the job for me. However, the bullet list makes it shallow, so I thought of making a separate post still.

***

I felt most like a grown-up this year. I have been too critical of the things I do at work. I have come to point out what I like and despise in my to-do list. Further exposure in the Arts made me think of what more I wanted to do. However, conversations with friends expanded possibilities outside the paradigm of Arts. This then made me a little confused of what I really want in my life. I can say I am pretty young and I have a lifetime to spend, but I am not in any way planning to waste it. I may be in a pretty challenging phase regarding my career, but I’m taking baby steps to get wherever I long to be.

This has been the most and farthest places I’ve been so far. I used to have fear of unknown places but I thought of discarding such and enjoy the idea of being lost instead. There are always things and people that may serve as refuge. I learned that language is not just a mean of communication, but actually more of connection. I might have lacked the understanding of a language, but I didn’t fail to decipher man’s expression of joy and happiness.

I had rekindled heartaches and found new love. I moved from being a mean-time girl to one’s queen. I learned that forgiveness and moving on can only take place once truth and sincerity comes to surface. Also, that love comes in the weirdest of forms and in the least expected moments – when poetry was irrelevant, or when there could be, but was rather awkward. Or maybe I learned that I need not always romanticize such idea. And yes, surprisingly, there’s an alternate route to my heart.

I was a Calendar Girl, the reason why I find the Stars song a lot relevant in my life. This year however, I lost track of most days, forgot counting verticals, and chosen not to make countdowns (except for work-related matters). My heart has just been taught lessons of patience I guess, and maybe a way of catching polaroids of memories.

In Case I Forget What It Is Like To be Twenty Two

Yes and No.

Yes, I am twenty two. And no, I am not making a countdown with the less than fifty days left for me to be twenty two.

I would just like to make a rundown of the things that existed in the life of the twenty-two year old me. I’ll cut the drama and excitement of a sixteen year old, which I believe is my heart’s age anyway. And by default, everything will go in a random order.

  • Spent the eve of my 22nd birthday with an awesome surprise thrown by really awesome people.

 

  • Gatecrashed the Philippine Fashion Week. My friend and I cut her black ribbon in two so I can have a pretty good seat.

 

  • Reread my favorite books and got a copy of “Love, Stargirl” as a birthday present from my sister while sifting through piles and piles of books in Booksale.

 

  • Became addicted to torrent downloads. This is more of a confession actually. My music and movie downloads have gobbled up more than half of my office computer’s disk space.

 

  • Earned the “Curatorial Courage Award” during one of my paper presentations/workshops. Now that’s sarcasm from the academe.

 

  • Traveled out of the country for the first time. I spoke to strangers and felt at home in a foreign land. It was actually in art I found refuge.

 

  • Published an article for an exhibition. I did this for the love of the artist group and my unending fondness for my heart’s former sanctuary. I sounded like the very same girl who wrote my thesis though.

 

  • Built a sort of book club or a book swapping activity with my friends. I believe this helped my friends understand me better, just so they know where my thoughts and ideas spring from. You can say that my randomness has probably come out from the variety of books I read – from young adult (Polly Horvath and Jerry Spinelli) to philosophical (Kahlil Gibran and Richard Bach).

 

  • Had my heart broken for the nth time and found it gradually mended through surprising and unexpected ways. He has certainly taken the alternate route to my heart.

 

  • Finally received original copies of my Diploma and Transcript of Records. UP and its genius system!

 

  • Wrote short love notes to random men of my life for the whole month of February. No, I am not boy crazy.

 

  • Got my SSS, TIN, PhilHealth and etc files. This sounds rather shallow, but this made me feel like an adult.

 

  • Spent McDate evening aka cheap fastfood dinner with friends. This is also an ode to adulthood. It’s a meeting where we address our unfiltered thoughts on work, career, family, and love over a less than a hundred budget meal which is deducted from our mean salaries. Yuppie talk.

 

  • Spent the eve of Valentine’s Day drunk and bore a whole lot of emotional and alcoholic baggage throughout the day. Epic, yes I am.

 

  • Signed up for a WordPress account for serious blogging. Well, if this does seem serious.

 

  • My brother graduated. Since then, he has made lots of money more than I did, compared to my whole employment history.

 

  • Received a present nine months prior to my birthday. I just woke up one morning with the news that I’m going somewhere a week after my birthday. He didn’t only have the travel tickets, he had in hand the passport to my heart.

 

  • Had one of my post-PR’s plagiarized by a writer. Sigh. Somebody forgot her writing ethics.

 

  • Spent the Holy Week away from home for the first time. Just loads of plain fun in the sun. Not to mention, we almost got lost on the way home.

 

  • Got myself a phone and ipod from my own money. Adulthood made me feel good I didn’t have to ask extra from my parents.

 

  • Got addicted to Timezone’s Terminator and Silent Hill. Money and f-words spent and said in the most relevant way.

 

  • Went totally crazy about food. I raved about chicken wings, soup, and sandwiches most of the time. Plus, it seemed like there should always be an open food tab while working. I don’t like food, I love it!

 

  • Went night trekking during a storm for my first mountain climbing experience. I have earned more than the courage of a pro.

 

  • Lost two mobile phones in less than a month. This is the best thing I’ve done in my whole life. Ever.

 

  • Grown equal fondness for cats and dogs since Mr Snooze has a pack of dogs and cats, and dreams of becoming Philippines’ Cesar Millan.

 

  • Edited my friend’s short stories for a project, in which my own past love affair became her basis for the story.

 

  • Received a warm and cheerful welcome at a hospital after riding an ambulance. It didn’t develop a love for hospitals though. It’s still traumatizing.

 

  • Executed a fail but rather sweet surprise for someone. I’ve been always into beautifully written love letters, exquisite music and lyrics, good books, and delectable food.

 

  • Created a history of us together in letter form compiled as “Guess How Much I Love You”. It’s a lengthy bullet list of little things that answer a lot of why’s and how’s.

 

A Celebration of an Unhappy Anniversary

My love letters to you take the shape of paper airplanes – exactly the way you taught me how to fold them. I need not read them to make me remember things. With my eyes closed, they launched my flight, back into the verticals we’re supposed to be counting.

***

Last night was almost as it was a year ago.  Only, it was a short tale of transit – with raindrops on each of our glass windows and our breaths of whispery songs. I looked outside, never at your face until your fingers crawled into mine as if they were searching for constellations the way they do before. I sighed and made my hand form a fist. There’s no use looking for stars there. Not even one exists anymore.

***

You were the quivering spring in winter and the most promising spring before summer. And like the seasons, you passed by too short. You left me in mid-summer then. Now, it’s my turn to leave you before summer.

I’ve already counted too much verticals, I lost track of them. Little did I know, it was spring again. Yes, last night was already spring – but a different one I must say.

***

My paper airplane love letters have already taken me far more than remembrance. They have actually lead me to as far as this reality – a celebration of an unhappy anniversary.

January 29 Was Once a Friday

January 29 was a Friday.
***

It was nine years in the making, with a twenty-minute prelude before your declared rebirth…

with silent wishes,
with sincere prayers,
with long and never ending journey with the stars,
wit interlaced fingers (never thought they’d perfectly fit mine),
with tiny steps under the joyful sun,
with fireworks above our head,
with the smell of incense in the air we breathe,
with your testimonies midst the cold crisp wind,
with events slowly unfolding as the moon changed its phase.. silent and surreal.
***

January 29 was a Friday. It is nothing but a memory of how things began. In six to seven years, January 29 will be a Friday once more. But it will never be the same Friday again.

I Have Loved Books Long Before I Loved You

The grade school library was once my refuge. I did not have a favorite desk or chair. I usually sat on the floor carefully tracing the edges of the pages while other books were piled to my side. I spent long hours there. I even took the last trip of the school service a lot of times only to devour newly cataloged classics.

I wonder if the library was your childhood’s refuge too. We had the same favorite books though – the enormous Atlas that was way larger than our 10-year old frames, the Peanuts Encyclopedia with tattered pages and the Classics in pink, red, orange and green spines.

I believe we have already met in the library, in books. We have already held hands while turning the pages. We have already shared the same emotions between the lines. And maybe, we have even read our own story then, reason why we felt we knew each other too well.

I do not know you then. You were only an anonymous character.

Who would ever thought you would be a heroic protagonist I would love so well ten years later.