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[prettyjammy]

Moving through life is hard

I’ve been spending the last few weeks doing house work like it’s a full-time job. There’s still so much to be improved and I am nowhere near what I have envisioned for this house to feel warm and cozy. I don’t have big plans for 2021 except to earn so I can finally move into a place of my own by next year. But as the eldest of three with parental responsibilities, I want to leave this house with tenderness and balance. 

I became a (pseudo) homemaker by circumstance. My mornings stretch to mid-afternoons on most days doing what mothers have done for us when we were little: cleaning the living room spotless, refilling the pitchers, putting the dishes back in their respective drawers, taking out the trash, and feeding the dog before rewarding myself with coffee (or tea). 

It’s not exactly what I pictured 2020 to be; the original plan was to go on three week-long overseas trips solo:

☑ Taipei, Taiwan (January)

☐ Beijing, China (June or July)

☐ Seoul, South Korea (October)

I really miss traveling. I’m sharing photos from my first and last trip of the year. Yehliu Park was a dream, that only solidifies my desire to live in a home surrounded by nature.

My life is good–even better now–but I still can’t shake this sleeplessness off of my system. I become far more restless at the thought that I have to go to bed every night for a peaceful sleep that I no longer remember what it feels like. The pointless quest of the rat race truly turned me into something I didn’t want to be, a chaser of the urban working life, settler of stability, a sellout, what have you, all of this boils down to me becoming an automated feature. Reaching a tipping point, I needed to step back after a good five years of running on empty.

Last April, at the dawn of a sobering generation and opening doors embracing the ordinariness of living inside, I never imagined that I would be included in a company’s retrenchment program that effectively let go a sea of hardworking people in batches for the next few months. Loose ends were written all over this sudden move as I keep my eyes peeled for my well-performing colleagues local and overseas face the same fate: their farewell, gratitude-laden messages in hopes of immediately landing a new, shiny opportunity occupy my feed.

While knowing that I’m not alone in this uncertainty surely soothes the pain of my unrealized ambitions, I can’t help but feel I’m back to square one again, only with a stronger backbone and a more controlled direction that I wish I knew many years ago. I also wish I didn’t put all my efforts and prospects in one place to compensate for my lack of structure in life.

But we live and let live. In my case, I learned the hard way that we should not glorify the pain behind long hours striving for excellence and actually begin doing things differently. 

[prettyjammy]

Hong Kong, August 2019

Three weeks from now on this month last year, I would find myself on a spontaneous five-day trip to Hong Kong. I remember telling nobody that I’d be away for a few days except for one or two people. Not even my sisters who I live with would know about it until the weekend before I leave for my flight. I also told my colleagues, including my managers, that I would be resting and regrouping at home upon signing my leave.

This is not the first time I sought refuge far away when things are becoming too much. It’s a pattern, I find, that after I’m faced with a difficult task whether it be at work or in my personal life, I let myself blend in obscurity instead of opening up to a friend or a close family member. It’s escapist behavior, I guess–there’s no other way but to slip down a rabbit hole until I feel okay to crawl back out again. Although, over the course of a year or two, I’d like to think that I’ve shown some vulnerability to a trusted few despite my nagging guilt and shame of having done so. I’m still finding the balance between what’s mine to cherish alone and what’s mine to nurture with others.

Remembering this trip makes me feel good about where I am now. It was around this time I was feeling disconnected at work, including the friendships I formed and even the small victories we earned as a team like getting praised by our supervisors and being given challenging projects. My personal productivity and pursuits suffered greatly because I would be catching up on sleep as soon as the weekend hits. I didn’t know what to do with myself; I was reluctant to change anything because I was earning an ideal amount just enough to cover everything I needed.

On top of this, I was also dating a guy with an emotional depth of a teaspoon when he was supposed to be my silver lining–he was really sweet and affectionate to me but I couldn’t get through to him… for some reason. Later on, I would start talking to a former flame in hopes of fulfilling this gap and stumbling somewhere meaningful.

All of this–this kind of downward spiral really slaps you in the face and here I am still mourning about what could have been. It’s humbling but it’s a painful experience to come back from. What is it that we’re so afraid of that we gravitate towards the things we end up hating ourselves for?

I’m rambling now but if there’s one thing I learned from this trip, it’s that it’s important to work on something you truly care about. I strongly identify–or rather try my hardest to embody–with and what my job title asks of me that I lose myself in the process. For many years, I’ve found myself unable to separate my life and work. I don’t do well with authority despite succumbing to (constructive) criticism from the ground up. At best, I take their advice, build a habit around it, but still, I fall short of expectations. What am I doing wrong? I’m tired of being in limbo but at the same time, I’m still intensely at odds with where I should be.

[prettyjammy]

The stories we tell ourselves

27 February 2021. It seems like the lockdown sort of made me miss a certain person that became an important presence in my life for a while. 

Four, five years after the fact, before every dreamless slumber, my thoughts never fail to drift to Blue. At one point I believed that my wishes might have the power to bring him back and continue where we left off, no matter how long that takes as if this grieving period has an immeasurable expiration date that will magically kick off with a happy ending. Looking back on a rather strange time of my life, I always try to remember who I was, what I looked like, how I took care of myself and my feelings, and the very desires that were left unsaid but immensely obvious in our actions. The majority of his presence – his shaky arrogance, false projections, frustrations, and debilitating self-doubt – was nearly impossible to soothe so we turned almost everything in jest until we couldn’t distinguish hurt from laughter. 

But in rare moments of tenderness, Blue was thoughtful, encouraging, and endearingly (sometimes painfully) opinionated about every little thing. When we had our first serious conversation over chat, it went on for hours and hours than I can count. Little did I know that it would be our thing for months to come: he talked about all the bands that saved his life, the places in Japan he was dying to visit, our shared love for musicians named Paul, as well as a mutual admiration for John Cusack. I told him that Say Anything is one of my all-time favorites and, to this day, I’m still wishing for a love like what Lloyd and Diane had.

“Have you seen High Fidelity? Akong-ako si John Cusack don,” he said. “Although, Jack Black also had some moments.”

I told him I was planning to because I was finishing reading the book at the time. “Keep this book away from your girlfriend – it contains too many of your secrets to let it fall into the wrong hands,” one of the most prominent praises for the book says. It read to me like a red flag as Blue and I entered into a month of seeing each other. 

I knew what kind of person Rob Gordon was. He was ruminating, insecure, selfish, and lonely. He was terrible with women. Cusack translated this on-screen very, very well. His charming man as Lloyd was nowhere to be found even with Cusack’s regular joe good looks. But then again, I’ve always felt compelled to love complex (read: difficult) people.

Blue glorified this character, as well as the movie, to death. He’d come over to my place a week later to watch it with him.

“Sabi ko sayo e, guys like us still stand a chance,” he said as the credits rolled, looping his arm around my middle, stopping me so we could lay some more. It was a sunny afternoon on a weekday and I remember taking him to my bedroom to smoke because I didn’t want the smell to give away the fact that I wasn’t alone. Boyfriends, or any form of male company really, were an unspoken restriction in our make-shift compound. 

I watched while I waited for him to finish the last drag off of his cigarette before walking up towards him by the window. I just wanted to be close to him – to see if he could let me in. It was still unfathomable to me that I invited a boy in my room, let alone one that I actually have real attraction for and seems to feel the same way. He sealed our closeness as his tall frame leaned on mine until our lips met in an innocent but lingering kiss.

Soon these secret meetings became uncomfortable. From going to each other’s houses, we would opt to stay at motels with no lunch nor dinner dates prior. I was starting to worry. But more than anything I was sad because I had already altered my brain to allow myself to be seen, warts and all. I opened up my heart and I was ready to jump from infatuation to real love. Maybe I was already there.

Our memories are imperfect and often glossed over, and when I trace them back to those five, six months of… whatever, I often catch myself wondering if they were ever real. Though, one thing is for sure: I was aware of how I felt. 

To quote Tavi Gevinson, “I try to remember that what I really want is not to go back, but what I have now: the image, the memory.” 

We were anchored in troubled waters and the angle was off right from the beginning. I already felt small compared to him. Five years ago I would’ve claimed that no other guy could ever make me feel how he made me feel. That, my affections were a gift he so deserved that I would be the luckiest person on earth had he acknowledged them, if not returned. I always felt reciprocation was already too much to ask – that I would be more than fine with settling for the bare minimum. As I said, I felt small next to him.

Today, like many days passed, I wish I reacted differently and cherished those moments of openness because I knew he was maybe reaching out for someone to listen. I always felt he just didn’t like being pitied because of his stubborn pride. Even so, I won’t ever trade those bits of perpetual bliss talking from our beds for anything. I want to believe that I truly connected with someone in those brief months just when I thought my life was getting stranger and turning into something I could no longer control.

Those of us who were born with a growing solitude and absolute independence have a complicated relationship with intimacy. I don’t dislike vulnerability even if it’s with the wrong friends and romantic potential because I’m not an inverted snob. But then again, intimacy is a fickle thing to betray and plays a key part in abandonment. I’m still going through establishing the right set of boundaries with everyone I meet and I already know; I just have to remind myself time and time again that they don’t have to be infinite.

[prettyjammy]

My friends and I use the term “culture shock” ever so lightly without realizing that it actually describes a phenomenon—a specific kind of alienation after moving to a new place. I’m going through it right now… and will probably do so again when I get to my next destination.

I can finally breathe. It’s been a ride these past two years: I now have two beautiful dogs. I never thought I’d be a homeowner at 29. It never even crossed my mind that I would get to live abroad in the short term and maybe settle here for a year or two. as far as jobs go, I’m happy that I get to work at a company with like-minded folks whose mission I deeply resonate with. And most importantly, I’m not afraid to set boundaries anymore.

I have so much idle time nowadays that I have this pressing urge to create. which is a feeling I haven’t had in a long time. I’m so grateful for what I have lately that I’m so excited about what I can do in return—for myself. Sign up for short courses? Take those diving lessons that I’ve always wanted? Go to therapy?

I don’t know. But for now, I’ll rest for a bit and embrace a new dream.

[prettyjammy]

My 2021 in a nutshell for the most part. I have firmly re-uprooted myself in my hometown and I guess it isn’t all that bad. But I’d like it here better if I could leave. How‘s everyone else holding up?

[prettyjammy]

“I would just like to be where you are; I would just like to trust you and love you and be with you. Only with you. Inside of you, around you, in all conceivable and inconceivable places. I would like to be where you are.���

�� Frida Kahlo

[prettyjammy]

Another pleasant day with my dog and plant children. Beautiful things are worth sharing. Hope everyone is safe and well!

[prettyjammy]

I’ve been spending the last few weeks doing house work like it’s a 9-5 job. There’s still so much to be done and I am nowhere near what I have envisioned for this house to feel warm and cozy. I don’t have big plans for 2021 except to earn so I can finally move into a place of my own by next year. But as the eldest of three with parental responsibilities, I want to leave this house with tenderness and balance. I guess I’m officially a homemaker now.

[prettyjammy]

“Sometimes we get sad about things and we don’t like to tell other people that we are sad about them. We like to keep it a secret. Or sometimes, we are sad but we really don’t know why we are sad, so we say we aren’t sad but we really are.”

— The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, Mark Haddon (b. 26 September 1962)

[prettyjammy]

I’ve started job hunting and received some emails inviting me for an interview. I’ve applied to some reputable companies that I would love to work at but most especially I’m pursuing a career that is a good fit for me that will stick around for a long time. Wish me luck!

Chin up, trust !

[prettyjammy]

I caught my dog in the living room sleeping for the second time this morning. He was curled up into a ball next to a piece of dirty laundry, his jet-black fur blending effortlessly with the dark slipcovers of the couch. Most dogs are light sleepers, especially when they’re ripe in their puppy age (he turned 8 months a week ago), mild footsteps descending down the stairs to the cold tiles can wake them up at the slightest. It’s a rewarding and loving sight to behold when your pooch slowly gets from a waking position to a greeting stretch when you bid him a good morning pet.

2 August 2020, Kazoo wearing the cone of shame. He immediately started playfully attacking his “ugly” hat when we took it off of him. We have to remind ourselves not to underestimate his Jack Russell Terrier tendencies.

Sometimes I forget that taking him home is equivalent to having a new family member--that he will be sticking around for many years--he’s yet to meet people we hold dear to us and dozens of other dogs he’ll get to play with in his lifetime. That thought alone excites me; my responsibility has found a place.

We plan on giving him a brother in a little over a year from now. It’s a long shot but I wish to raise a family with a pack of dogs in the picture.

[prettyjammy]

“Space is space, life is life, everywhere is the same. But as for me, sustained by the toil of others, lacking civilized vices with which to fill my leisure, I pamper my melancholy and try to find in the vacuousness of the desert a special historical poignancy. Vain, idle, misguided! How fortunate that no one sees me!”

— J. M. Coetzee, Waiting for the Barbarians

[prettyjammy]

from the zine No Mist by Lora Mathis (2017) Available here.

[prettyjammy]

He will love this music to death. In a few more years, he’ll snort at its sentiment and mock its stirring progressions. Once you’ve loved like that, the only safe haven is resentment.

Richard Powers, Orfeo (via quotespile)

[prettyjammy]

I’m not a hundred percent sure if I should be holding onto this part-time work that requires me to be present from Monday through Sunday. It hasn’t been a month since I agreed to help out as a favor for an acquaintance with the promise that the pay will be steady as long as I put out quality writeups. You see, the type of work they are requiring of me is no different from my old job except that this is a one-man-team gathering and accomplishing everything from writing a 60-page travel guide Lonely Planet-style with a dash of Conde Nast Traveler down to the pictures that the design department will be using for the content layout, which you can acquire through sifting pages and pages of photos from free stock websites. Writing about a country from head to toe in the travel perspective is not a two to three-day project max, especially if you want to have a 100 Things to Do section written and uploaded with high-definition images like it’s a piece of cake. If you want things *simplified* for a quicker turnaround time then stop acting like we’re Atlas Obscura. 

[prettyjammy]

I’m completely obsessed with this song. I’ve always liked DEAN as a solo artist than when he is a collaborator, although his work with HEIZE was nothing short of amazing. I’ve always liked how he incorporates obvious 90s RnB and neo soul influences to his beats that come out more fleshed out, stylish, and sexier. DEAN is some of the most ambitious Korean soloists working in the genre right now and I really think he’s in a league of his own. This song is almost three years old and its agenda on sad social media scrolling still rings true today.

DEAN - Instagram

[prettyjammy]

My day is just starting and I have two deadlines waiting for me this week. While I'm still getting used to this work from home setup, although indefinitely, I’m taking this moment to improve my time management and organization skills. I came from a 9-5 that extended to countless midnights spent at the office and I’ve vowed that I will never go through something like that again.

Lockdown living is quite a blessing in disguise. I live and work with a dog now and to say that things at home are looking well and great would be an understatement. My best friend got him for me two days after Christmas and I brought him home last March. He goes by Kazoo and he’s the sweetest.

It was not planned nor did I see I would ever own a pet, let alone a three month old puppy, in my otherwise busy schedule (I’m freeing up my life for more time spent at home). I’ve tried my hand in adopting one of the many stray cats roaming in our block a couple of years ago. She was a free-spirit (as most cats are) and had different names given to her by neighborhood folks but in our household she will always be Malkmus. She left us forever with her litter of kittens, just when they turned two months old. I’m still grieving over that scam to this day.

Kazoo has a serious bout of separation anxiety. He spent his first day in our home by himself unleashed so he can get used to his new surroundings, only left with a meal and water to drink good enough for 12 hours or more. Probably not the best dog parenting tip but I only had a few people to call for advice and this was the most feasible thing we could do. Little did we know we were doing more harm than good because for the next nine days or so, we would find Kazoo in the care of our landlord upon arriving home from the office. Kuya Manny is a stay-at-home dad of two boys around the same age as me (I’m 27 now) and has lived with dogs for most of our lease period here. He would always say that Kazoo cries every day as soon as we leave for work and he couldn’t help but bring him to their house to play with his pups just so he wouldn’t feel lonely. No wonder Kazoo turned out to be such a friendly and approachable dog to other puppies on our daily walk. Since then late nights at home are welcomed with over-the-top greetings, chin-licking, and intense sniffing from our pooch, as if trying to figure out where we’ve been during the day.

All of this happened two weeks before lockdown was announced in Metro Manila. I had my fair share of puppy blues as a pup’s first few months are often the hardest that I actually thought I would eventually return him after a couple of weeks because the responsibility was overwhelming. Maybe it was meant to be that I lost my job to reevaluate my decisions, how much attention, energy, and time I should give work, and the nearing dysfunctionality of the family situation at home. Nowadays I just feel so content and happy. It’s not perfect but I’m beyond thankful that I’m no longer in a dark place. Kazoo has no idea how much he has done for me than I did for him.