Seanny Bunny

There's nothing funny about suicide jokes.

I know I'm overreacting and some people are just trying to lighten up the situation but there are a lot of ways to do that. If you want to strike up a conversation about it, then do so, but be respectful. Don't text everyone saying SUICIDE IS IN TODAY! WHO WANTS TO BE IN? HAHAHA like it's something to laugh about. How would you feel if you killed yourself and everyone you wished to care laughed about your death instead?

These people drove themselves to the extreme for a reason. Because of people like you who don't give a care about their lives. Their families are grieving. How could anyone have bones to just toss these families' pains aside just to prove how cool they are just because they can laugh about matters like this?

Sigh.

People suck.

I've always wanted to do this.

Sit on the passenger side of the car, you behind the wheel, greens and blues whirring past as your foot hits the gas.

I look up at you and see something I've always wanted to see.

I didn't even know I was waiting for you - I was just sitting on the steps of my house, wondering why I was even there - until you came.

You took my hand and held the door for me, and then you said, "Where do you want to go?", and I said, "Nowhere in particular."

And so here we are, driving to nowhere in particular, letting the air be filled with comfortable silence, making conversation with the words we leave unsaid. Your hand reaches for mine, and I let you hold it for as long as you wish to, because there might not be another time.

After all, something as magical as this, if this surely is not a dream, then it is a fragile reality which we must thread on carefully, for the slightest shift can make it shatter.

Your face is calm. You are not smiling, but you are happy. I can tell by the twinkling of your eyes, there are words swirling in your mind, words you don't dare say because they might not make sense. Oh, but how they do.


I roll the window down, fill my lungs with the fresh, cool air. Closing my eyes, I squeeze your hand, and I know that you know what I yearn to say.

I've always wanted to do this.

There are things I wish I hadn't known or seen. I'm not afraid of pain; I'm afraid of it changing me into something I don't want to be.

I'm selfish. I am, cause after all these years, I don't want you to be happy with anyone else. I stay up at night wishing you'd miss me enough to seek me out again, like you always did before. I realize it's not happening, but I keep on waiting for things to take a turn for the better.

Right now, more than anything, I just wish I hadn't seen that picture. You stood beside her, smiling like you've never been happier, your arms wrapped around each other. It reminds me of those times I refused to take a picture with you, because I didn't want to have anything to hold on to in case I feel exactly the way I do right now. I'm regretting it more and more.

I don't suppose I want you back. I don't even like you anymore. Sometimes, we just hate seeing others pick up what we have thrown away. Sometimes, I hate that she has restored you back to the amazing person you once were, something I wasn't able to do. Sometimes, I wonder how much better my life would have been if I hadn't met you.

My chest still constricts when I think of you.

Even now, after all this time, when everyone thinks I'm ok, I'm not even fine at all. And I can't find the words to tell anyone exactly how I feel.

It's like there's a hole in me. Not in my chest, but in me. And I've tried everything that might work but nothing is fit to fill it in. Sometimes, it's as if I'm gong crazy. I pull at my hair as if somehow, you'd be here to stop me.

Maybe it's just the weather. It's been really cold these past few days, and the skies would turn gray, but it never rains, which should be a good thing because the rain reminds me of you. Instead, I curl up  and make myself as small as I feel, and wish it would just pour. Because I want to remember. Because lately, you're starting to get blurry. My memories can't get your smile right anymore. Your laughter sounds wrong in my head. And the sound of your voice is not as clear as it used to. And I'm trying my hardest to hold on to these fading pieces of you, because they're all I have left.

Maybe it's the way they've all moved on, and I'm still stuck in bubbles of you. We'll never be whole again, this much I know. When you went, you took a bit of each of us with you, and there's no getting them back. But they've moved on. They talk about you as if you're still there with us, your eyes crinkling as you laugh. And that hurts me, because I'm not there yet, and I feel alone.

I'm trying to hold myself together, but bits of me are starting to fall out, and it's all because of you.

Hi. I haven't been here in a while. It's because I'm sooo busy, like seriously, I feel like I don't even have the right to breathe anymore. So here are a couple of things we have to accomplish these coming weeks:

1. CWTS Tree Planting Activity (January 19)
2. CWTS Livelihood Seminar (January 26)
3. Thesis Defense (January 22)
4. CWTS Feeding Program (February 2)
5. CWTS Feeding Program 2 (February 9)
6. 8th Annual Chefs on Parade (February 12-13)
7. PE Field Demo (February 14-15)
8. CWTS Kasalang Bayan (Mass Wedding Ceremony) (February 16)

That's only some of our responsibilities. We also still have our other subjects which are equally demanding in terms of time, effort and money.

I don't know how to be a good leader, this is a fact. I'm moody and temperamental and I don't like repeating things. I hate it when people refuse to do as I say, especially when I've begged them once. And in these activities, I'm given the responsibility to lead my classmates and make them follow me. The problem is, I don't know how.

It's so tiring, preparing for these things and having to keep up with my studies at the same time, but thankfully, I manage it all, somehow. I just hope I can keep it up. I know it's only going to be harder as time comes.

Well, there goes the first few weeks of my 2013. It's not much, but at least it isn't boring.

There are times when I hide behind a happy face because that's the easiest thing for me to do. After all, how do I explain how after all this time, not a day passes by that I don't think of you? Who will understand how much I still long for you?

The world is cold. Everything just feels so wrong without you. Your memories are anchors, weighing me down, keeping me stuck on the shore. I spend all my time reading all these poems, listening to all these songs, hoping that somehow, by some miracle, I will find the words to describe how I feel.

I miss you.

I miss you.

I miss you.

It doesn't matter how many times I repeat that. I'm not even sure you can still hear me. I don't know if you can feel gravity pulling you to me. What are you supposed to be now? A lingering echo of thoughts, of precious words left unsaid? A cruel tick of the clock, the sole measure of how much time has passed?

I don't know where to find you, and I don't know how. Is it even possible?

All I know now is this feeling. Heavy sighs and empty laughter. This is me now. This is what I've been since the day you walked out.

You're mad at the world because you can't have what you want. What you fail to realize is that the world doesn't owe you a single thing; it was here first.

You think to yourself, out of the billions of people on the planet, hundreds of thousands of them serial killers, or rapists, or robbers, or mad cannibals, the universe conspires to give you the shittiest days known to man. You don't even see how millions of these people, most of them children, are dying of starvation, or victims of abuse by their own parents, or spending Christmases and their birthdays on the streets.

You feel like it's the end of the world because your internet connection is weak, and your phone is running out of charge, and your parents flat out refuse to buy you the latest iPad model, and your teachers give assignments and quizzes all at once. Somewhere in the world, someone's biggest wish is to finish his or her studies. Someone struggles to pay his way through college, to be able to afford a sick parent's medication, selling whatever gadgets they have left for a little something to eat, to get them through the day.

You look in the mirror and you hate what you see. You're too fat. You're not pretty enough. Your hair never falls in place and you'd do anything to change what you are, when what you really should be changing is the way you look at things. Beauty, popularity, money. These things matter to you now, but in 5 or 10 years' time, what you'd be thinking about are the things you wish you'd said, the moments that slipped from your hands, and the people you wish you'd asked to stay.

You shy away from people and keep your feelings to yourself because you're a little bit different. You're a boy, and you like boys, or you're a girl, and you like girls. You're ashamed because you think there's something wrong with you, but what you really should be ashamed of is the fact that you're letting society dictate who you should or should not love. You'd either grow old alone or stuck in a relationship that doesn't work just because you conform to what the world says is right. What you fail to realize is that it's your life on the line.

You're mad at the world because you can't have what you want, but the truth is that you're mad at yourself because you want it, but you don't want it bad enough to even be willing fight for it. You're mad, because you want it handed to you on a silver platter. You want things to go your way. You want people to like you when you can't even like yourself. You complain about everything, but you're doing nothing to change them.

You, my friend, are mad.

The universe is vast. I used to think it was limitless, infinite. So why, now, do I feel like I'm standing on its edge, going in circles because gravity keeps pulling me down?

I'm connected to you by a string. It is frayed. I need to know why we live like this. Why, after all we've been through, is it still so hard to just let every piece of truth fall from your lips? Lie on your back, take my hand. Tonight, we'll watch the stars fall from the sky.

I'm just a speck in your universe. It is forever changing, leaving little room for stability. I never thought I would be foolish enough to let your hand slip away from my hold. I should have kept my grip. "I'm sorry," I should have said, but I turned my back on you instead.

I'm never one to admit to my mistakes. I don't give up easily, either. But this space between us, it burns, and it expands, until an inch becomes a light year away. We're orbiting two different suns, and for a moment, we thought we could make them merge into one. But then, reality sneaks in, and we're rotating on the same axis, both too fast, neither willing to slow down to somehow soften the blow.

Next thing we know, we're crashing into each other, leaving chaos and a  path of endless destruction.

Come down with me,  lie on your back. We can walk away tomorrow. There'll be no looking back. But for tonight, we'll watch the ashes fall.

It's either desperation, or dedication, how after all this time, I'm still here, holding on. It's been quite a while, and I never planned on revisiting these sentiments I thought I'd boxed away forever.

Guess I was wrong. I guess I lied each time I told myself that I was over you, because right now, it doesn't feel like I ever will be.

But I will always be the other girl. The one waiting on the side lines to mend whatever is broken, even if the pieces wound me.

It's not your fault. You're just someone wonderful and extraordinarily amazing and I look at you and I would rather look at you than anything else in the world. It's unfair, cause you never even have to try. I keep falling all the time.

This cold morning breeze greets my face with a light kiss, its lips brushing softly against my cheek. I raise my head up to the sky, eyes closed, smiling, filling my lungs with delicious, fresh air.

I feel like I could burst out of my skin right now.

One by one, the raindrops fall. I open my eyes and watch as the clouds weep under pressure, and I dance. And I marvel at the realization that there's nothing wrong with not being okay sometimes. There's nothing wrong in speaking your mind. There's nothing wrong in dancing, not when you can, not when it's raining.

I am finally starting to believe, little by little, that I can truly be happy. That happiness is a state of mind, and that once you intend to be happy and follow the trail that leads to it, then you can, and you will be happy. I see now the things I used to refuse to see because I was overcome by guilt, so wrapped up in my pain that anything outside it, I considered unreachable.

I am starting to see, and I am starting to feel. I want to be happy.

I take a step forward, walking in tiptoes so as not to disturb the weeds as they whisper to each other their deepest, most intimate secrets, or maybe the gossip of the day. I am standing at the edge of a cliff, and I can see endless rolls of greens, hills after hills of memories, wildflowers blooming with delight. Below, the ocean awaits. The waves crash against the rocks, each sound an invitation for me to let go and be free.

I nod yes. They crash louder now into the boulders, cheering for me. Without fear, I take one step and feel no ground. Everything slows down as I jump into the unknown. There is an inexplicable feeling in my stomach, one I know so well from falling too many times before. Only this time, I am not falling. I am flying.

I feel like I could burst out of my skin right now.

It's 2:22, and I'm up, and I don't think I'm ever going to fall asleep again tonight. My mind is everywhere. I keep thinking about people who are probably in deep slumbers at this moment, hardly aware that somewhere in the world, someone cares.

I'm listening to a really good playlist, or maybe I'm just in a really good mood these days, and that makes everything I listen to a little bit better than they actually are. School started last Monday, and I'm glad to say my fears and worries have been put to rest the moment I stepped into my first class.

I have no idea why I'm blogging right now. I don't even know what to blog about, but I have this inkling in me, making the tips of my fingers itch to type away, so that's what I'm doing right now. Maybe I'll just say there's no point in hiding from your fears. They either find you, anyway, or you're going to have to keep running from them forever. I chose the first one because I wanted it to be over, once and for all, and running would not have helped me accomplish anything.

I feel so much more responsible now than I was a year ago. I'm starting to see how a few drops of rain can drown you if you don't at least try to beat it or learn to dance in it. I've got a long way to go, but this is a start, and a good one at that. Yes, I'm late, but I wouldn't say I'm too late. I'm starting to believe that the idea of being "too late" may be a little bit absurd now. I think as long as you put yourself out there and tell the world what you want from it, then seize it, then you're never too late. It's never too late to fight for something when you know it can change your life forever.

If only I realized this sooner, then I'd be so different now. But I guess that's how things work. This was not where I wanted to be, but I'm here now, and I can happily say that I'm alright with it. I'm right where I should be. Here, now.

It's summer, and my heart is a carnival.

There are fireworks going in my veins, sending sparks where my blood should be flowing. I feel like I'm on top of a ferris wheel, so high that I can see the city lights twinkling from a far distance. So high that I'm wishing you'd hold my hand, an assurance that if I ever fall, I will never fall alone.

The inch of space between us feels like a huge boulder, a rock hard mountain I have to climb to see you smile again. To feel the thrill of a roller coaster ride, where excitement and fear fight to dominate my emotions. I will not close my eyes; I don't want to miss a second of being with you.

I feel like someone is making spun sugar in my stomach. My breaths are shallow, calculated, as if I'm a kid again, walking on eggshells to catch a dragonfly. I keep my eyes away from yours because I'll blush if I don't, and then you'll know.

You make me smile, and you shook the ground beneath my feet when I saw you. Now, I feel the stones slowly fall into a cliff below, where I see nothing but uncertainty. I'm scared of falling, because this time, it might just actually hurt more than it did the first time.

At the end of the day, when the lights are out, and there are no more darts, pellet guns, and toy prizes, and we're back on the ground where everything is a lot bigger than they seem, I need to know that magic can still happen. I need to know that someone like you can fall for someone like me.

Today, I've learned about a baby named Avery, who was diagnosed with a fatal disease. That's not the sad part. The sad part is, I've learned about her after her disease took her away.

I can't, for the life of me, I can't read one post of that blog without crying my heart out. Here was a 5 month old baby who faced death before anyone could have ever said she was alive, and she faced it with a smile. Most of us, we go through the motions complaining about minor inconveniences, thoroughly taking for granted the fact that we're all perfectly healthy, while she woke up each morning knowing, feeling that it might be her last day on Earth, but she never let that tale away her smile. She was even thankful for bad hair days.

Avery's story breaks my heart. I don't have a child, and I'm not a parent, but it hurts me so much to think of all the surgeries her fragile little body had to go through just so she could live. Just so she could do those small things on her bucket list that I do everyday, and I never even notice. It breaks my heart that I've never had a chance to know her before she had to go. I've only seen her pictures, read her story, and still, I feel like I've known her all my life.



To you, little angel Avery, wherever you are right now, I just want you to know that you have touched my life, and that I think I will always be thinking of you, of the way you made me smile. You're one of the strongest people I've ever seen. I wish I had the pleasure of meeting you personally, but it doesn't matter so much now. Your life, although cut short, has altered mine in a way I can't begin to explain. You're beautiful, Avery, and I'm going to name my daughter after you as soon as I have one.

Rest in peace, sunshine.

I love mornings like this when I wake up and realize that the air still smells like last night's rain. It's one of the things that calm me; one of the few things that say sit back, things are under control.

I'd like to think that I know what I'm doing, but really, I don't. One moment, I hate a certain person, and the next, I feel like I'm crazy for even thinking I could hate them. My aunt is in the kitchen, telling us to cook our food, which is not a bad thing, never, except she doesn't seem to know the difference between speaking and yelling. She always does that, and I hate it. She washes the dishes and puts them on the rack, and every single time, it's a noisy affair. It's not a big deal, but when it's something you hear everyday, you either stop caring or you start caring too much. Sometimes, I just don't care. I let her be however noisy she wants to be. Most times, I take a deep breath and ask myself, what the eff is her problem now? Cause it never seems to stop. It's like she hates the world, and I don't know why. It makes me hate the world, too.

I like staying in my head. It's easier to deal with myself than face the truth, but it's scary. Sometimes, I build up so many fantasies in my mind that they start being my reality, and the real reality starts being too hard for me to take. I don't even know what I'm talking about. Maybe I'm just a dreamer, trying to create a new world because I can't fix the one I'm in.

I'm falling too deep into this pit of unexplainable sadness, and I'm falling fast. I'm scared that one day, I'd lose myself and I wouldn't care at all.

...And you finally feel your feet getting lifted off the ground.

People always say don't mind the haters and that you can't please everybody, but I know for a fact how difficult that can be. To just decide to be the bigger person and turn the other cheek and go, especially when you've been expecting so much more from the other person involved.

I've had my fair share of small, and some bigger ridicules. We can't avoid this because 1.- As cliche as it may sound, nobody's perfect, and 2.- Even if a perfect person exists, there's always that one jealous human being that will try and step on her just because. So basically, the moment you are conceived, you have signed up on a contract that says the world would surely try to fuck you up and bury you alive - it's up to you to stand your ground or claw your way out.

You wouldn't believe how low I've been feeling today. Sometimes, some people I love just don't get it. They don't understand that words can hurt more than physical blows do. They'll call me names and make fun of me and laugh, and I laugh with them as if I find the joke funny, but deep inside, I'm bleeding raw, especially when it's the same "joke" over and over again. It gets old and tiring. So I'm pretty much in a position to say I know how it feels to be bullied. I face it everyday with the people I think so highly of.

There's this little girl, she's my neighbor's daughter but grew up in my family's care. Yesterday, I brought her swimming with us. She's on the heavy side cause she likes to eat, so they started calling her fat, a pig, and God forbid, a whale. I kept telling them to stop, because it hurts me more than anyone could ever see. I love that girl and I wasn't just going to sit there and watch them tear her apart. But they didn't listen cause they thought they were being funny. People just don't realize the effects of bullying especially on kids. This girl, she refused to eat the whole day yesterday. And until now, writing about it, I can't help but feel the now familiar streak of hate that I feel for them. It took all of me not to lose myself and blurt out all their imperfections one by one.

I guess it's human nature. We don't ever realize how badly our actions affect someone until we see any physical evidence. Sometimes, I feel like they'd be happier with me dead, but I refuse to give them that satisfaction. The scary part, though, is that sometimes, I do feel like maybe I'll be better off dead. Imagine a place where you could just be yourself and not be judged for it. Imagine being able to make mistakes and not having people holding a grudge against you because of them. Sometimes, I plan my own funeral in my head just so I could picture all their guilty faces and read all their curious thoughts, wondering if they were one of the reasons why.

But I know that life doesn't work that way. It happens to me a lot of times, but it isn't always dark and gloomy. There are good times, too, and although they may be outnumbered by the bad, I just try to visualize myself being successful in the future, and just thinking about them finally looking at me as a person instead of a laughing matter is enough to get me by. It still hurts me, of course, but I've come to accept the fact that no matter what I do, I can't hold in my palm other people's words and actions and I can't bend them to my will, but I can turn the negative thoughts into something brighter, just enough to get me through one day.

A teacher once told me that I had excellent goals in life, but I didn't have to feel like I need to reach those goals to prove something to anyone, and now I realize how right she was. This is my life, and I'll live it the way I want to. I'll comb my hair when I feel like it, and I'd rather be fat than starve myself thin. Those who matter don't mind, and those who mind, they don't matter. It's as simple as that.

Once again, today, the universe has found a way to show me how important every second is. I'm so thankful to be alive, to have a roof above my head and clean air to breathe. I'm so thankful.

To all my friends, I just want each and every one of you to know that your presence is valued and your absence never goes unnoticed. Each one of you has contributed something that became a part of me, so whether we've said goodbye or not, whether we're still friends or almost strangers, never forget that a part of me is carrying some other part of you. We are atoms that make up a matter, something indestructible. Something even death can't touch.

Because of this, I'm telling you now, yes, you, the one who reads this, that you have no right to ever feel alone for as long as I'm here. Maybe I don't know you yet, but a lot of good things can begin with a simple hello. I would like to be your friend. I would like to listen to you, to talk to you if you want me to. I would like to help you, please, whatever you're going through. Let me help you. Give me a chance to get to know you.

I feel like my heart is going to burst with so much love today. Usually, we let things pass and go unnoticed, but I'm not letting that happen today. I'm telling you, yes, you, the one who's reading this right now, that I love you. I love you, and I always will. It matters not if I know you or not. It matters not your religion, your skin color, your sexual orientation, your financial and social status. Those are just numbers, and I never really liked Math very much. I love you. Tell me your name and I'll love you more.

Please, people. If you need anything that I am capable of giving, please don't hesitate to ask. Nothing makes me feel better than helping a friend in need. I want to know all about you and I won't judge you for the choices you make, cause I make mistakes too. I just want you not to feel alone, to stay with us here.

Because the world is such a beautiful place with you in it.

I guess I'm just another sentimental fool, you know, letting small things bring me down, when they don't even weigh anything.

I keep saying I don't like feeling like this but in fact, I keep coming back for more. I don't know what's wrong with me. I think I like being sad and lonely and I don't think that's a bad thing. 

I don't really know what to say anymore. There are just no words to describe how I feel. It would sound crazy if I said I'm happy that I'm lonely, wouldn't it?

Sometimes I wish I could just sit on my window and sing Moon River.

I don't even have a window.

I have just finished listening to Ingrid Michaelson's latest album, Human Again. The title of this post was inspired by my favorite track off of it.

I have been itching to blog for days, but it never really occurred to me what to blog about, so I left it alone. I told myself that I should not force my mind to produce something to write about. When the time came, I'd know.

I have just been surfing Facebook, when this link a friend of mine liked appeared on my news feed. It was one of those phenomenal stuff now that dominates the site, a picture, on this instance, of a couple, and a touching story for a caption. The story was a long one so I really would not bother putting it here, also because I am fairly sure I will not be able to cite the source, but it was about the concept of being too late.

I guess, as human beings, we're all guilty of taking things for granted every once in a while. Reading that story, however fictitious it was, made me realize how wrong my assumption of myself was. You see, I may have low self esteem, but more often than not, I satisfy myself by thinking that I am good enough, that I have been good enough and that in case I die today, I have nothing to be ashamed of.

How deeply wrong I was.

One example of this is how I treat my aunt. I respect her, of course, she was the one who raised me like her own child, but sometimes, there are things that even the utmost respect cannot mask. There are things that even respect cannot make an excuse for, like the way I always complain about her cooking, or how I get annoyed when she washes my clothes and I find them ruined with bleach and other stuff.

What I didn't see all these years, that I'm only starting to see now is that my aunt is not getting any younger. Of course, she's making more mistakes than ever because her hands are feeling cramped, or she is overly tired, or her eyes are getting bleary. Still, I never seemed to see any of this. I am spoiled, and I grew up having these things handed over to me, no questions asked. I never had to wash any item of clothing nor did I have to cook a grain of rice if it could be helped.

Anyway, in that story, the husband narrated how he fell out of love with his wife and started spending more time with another woman. His wife, clearly hurt but still noble, asked for a month together before she could give him the divorce he so blatantly asked for. She set some conditions that brought them closer together until one day, her husband realized that he did not want a divorce anymore. He went to the other woman's house, told her that he was staying with his wife, then bought a bunch of flowers and came home, only to find his wife on the bed, dead.

It made me realize that life really is too short to waste any time not being nice to anyone. I know it was just a story, but it has affected me more than it should because I know, too, that it happens in real life. People die all the time, and most of those people die without hearing their loved ones say how much they are loved because we are all too caught up with the idea of "next time". Sometimes, we never even worry about going out and forgetting to tell our moms, or our sisters or brothers, that we love them or care about them, because in our minds, we think it's silly cause we're seeing them again in a few hours or so.

I guess this is the part where the line better safe than sorry comes. Tell them. Tell them now. Or this moment just passes by. Another wasted time.

Today is my sister's birthday. I can't believe January's halfway over, but really, when did time ever slow down?

So, in February, I have to get an original copy of my birth certificate from NSO. I have to get it before March or April (graduation season) to avoid inconvenience. Then, by March, I'd have to pull out my records from my old university, which apparently costs Php 9,000.00, more or less, so I can register as early as April, again, to avoid inconvenience. I'm really nervous about the registering part cause I'm not sure if this new school will accept me. It's hard enough to be a transferee, what more to be a transferee with bad records?

But I'm not giving up on this. I'm coaching myself to keep looking at the bright side of things. This is my future. The next few years are going to define how the rest of my life will turn out, and honestly, I'm not going down without a fight. I'm not going down, period.

Financially, we're struggling right now. I can only imagine how much harder it's going to be in June, when both my sister and I are in college. I'm hoping I could get a job to at least pay for some of my own basic needs and maybe save up for a few trips to see my friends on sem break, but right now, my priority is to be able to get through these intricate ways out of my old college and into a new one.

Honestly, I'm scared. I' turning 21. It's not that easy to throw a fish into a new body of water and expect it to blend in immediately, but i just remind myself that a fish does not drown, so long as it keeps swimming. And that's what I' going to do. I'm going to swim my ass off until I conquer the sea, and I know that one day, I'll look back at this moment and know that I've done the right thing.