Wednesday, May 23, 2012

WHAT-er?! (a disaster)


Do I have to say it twice?
"Water!" yes, water. What about it?

So I had this crazy-idea(believe me it was crazy), flashing before my eyelids a thousand times, when my mom just finished constructing our mini turtle pond. It has always been an unreachable dream for me to have a project involving water. I always wanted to create my own water photoshoot. The idea sounded bells in my ears. 

My plan was to  put on a net-like make up and just dive and shoot. And so, I thought it was as easy as dive and shoot but I didn't know the troubles I had to face. Water was not my element and it wasn't that cooperative too.The best idea turned into worst.

I should have taken precautions and think less as a fish. In the first place I was born as a human being, no scales, gills and fins. I had a false confidence on being a fish in my past life. And yes! I have to say and type it twice, "WHAT-er! WATER!"

After the shoot I had my earinfection. I hear things as if I was in a cave. The worst part, I think the bacterias/dirt in the water reached my brain. It's giving me headaches and paranoia. I can't even breathe through my nostrils. It's all clogged up and I feel a  pinch  everytime I try.

NO MORE WATER FOR ME! this was not a good idea at all(I didn't even have good outputs with the photos. But it's better to have outputs where you can learn and improve. right? (or I'm just saying this to make myself feel better?).



Outputs of the said shoot, below:



"Look! A pufferfish"



Do fishes have white underfins?

I look gay here

I don't think fishes need volumized eyelashes.





Painting a Round face



Here I am again wasting my time in front of my laptop screen, trying to call out to no one. Yet, here I find comfort. I try to write the things which I cannot say in reality. I have found this new world of technology as a releasing ground. It is the perfect place for me to express things that are left unsaid.

We all know that humans are made relative. We are made and designed to communicate. Indeed, through this sharing of thoughts, feelings and knowledge we made things fair for all. We learn to compromise and defend for ourselves.

But for me, this goes in a downward spiral-staircase. I cannot communicate effectively which sorts me into the "factory defect" category. I do feel at times when I cannot stand my grounds and speak up for myself that I am unworthy to be called a human being. This is when life for me is hard and unfair.

Having a place like this, where I can speak and share without hesitations or fears, I feel like a dignified being. As part of sharing, I have learn to express myself at the tip of my brush.

(Photos used here are some recent arts on my thoughts and feelings on Bipolar Disorder.)
"My life is framed on two extremes, mania and depression."
Happiness is like a burst of color. While depression is nothing but a sunken corpse.







Saturday, May 19, 2012

Baby Tomas


 I haven't yet formally introduced the new member of our family and it is my pleasure to take advantage of it today. I'd like you to meet my baby Tomas(what a proud mama he made me). He's just a puppy and still needs mother attention.


He likes to roll over(a lot),jump sideways and all ways, he likes nibbling his two snoopy toys, and most of all sleeping in a grotesque manner. I just love this cute brown fur ball. His name is in memory of my greatgrandmother's death anniversary(the day this bundle of joy arrived in our loving arms), Tomasa.






Baby Tomas has always been mistaken for a mix breed of highbreed dogs. But he's just simply Tomas, an "askal"(asong-kalye; local streetdog in the Philippines). He is simply Tomas like no other, our baby Tomas.



A quote for us from Baby Tomas:
Hold on and never let go of the rope. We will make it through! WE CAN.

Friday, May 18, 2012

The Bad Magic Dust


Last night, as I was lying down on my best sleeping position, I stared upon our bedroom window. The light outside passed through it's glass which made the room half-lit. It was the only light that made that dark room glow before my eyes. The sight struck me that I was alone again regardless of the presence of my family beside me. I was alone in the sense of fighting my own battle. It has been a week that I have been submerged in my own prison, another irrational depression.

Deep in my darkness there is also this light from a window, the light which gives spark to my little hopes. "How long will this last? How long should I hope?" these made me ask myself if it was worth it. When will I know that I have to stop hoping? This battle would last a lifetime, would last forever. There was nothing we could do but hope until I get cured.

All we could do was hope and pray.


My pillow was soaked in my tears of sadness. I hold tight to it as if it was my child. If I was God, if I was its mother, I could not bear to see my child suffering. I would hug it close to my heart to let it feel that this battle was not to be faced alone. I would protect my child with my life, that is what I would do. But where is my God?Where is my mother?Where is my protector? Should she be here tonight tucking me into bed, caressing my hair and assuring me that everything would be alright.

Waking up today wasn't better as it was yesterday. My head is throbbing and my eyes are sore. Busy people keeps on coming in and out of our house. I suppose I was the only one not busy with normal things. I was caught up in a higher form of analyzing. I was busy trying to keep myself from going all "cuckoo" and end up at some local mental hospital. My brother and cousins are as annoying as the lead role of the film I'm watching. Whoever made the film I was watching, I wish he'd kill everyone at the end of the movie. It was all too stupid and too scripted. They always get the happy ending when in reality they all die.

Looking at my silly relatives and hearing them laugh at stupid jokes made me even furious. How could they manage a laugh at a very low form of idiocracy. How could they enjoy and have fun when someone was already dying from the other side of the world. How could they take everything less serious. It grew me even mad, worst than madness could tell. I want to tie them down and tape their mouths to silence.

My little baby dog starts barking outside and it just adds up to my uncontrollable temper. I rushed to him and seized its snout. I pulled its collar up choking him to death. He stared at me and I realized I was killing it. I was a murderer. I let him loose and went inside the house crying. I didn't dare to look back. What have I done?Am I mad already?.

I took a shower assuming that this madness was somewhat like a bad magic dust sprinkled all over me. I was hoping that I could wash all of it away. I stood there wet and crying. I keep on telling myself "I am not sick. I am not sick". But who am I fooling? I know I was. This Bipolar disorder is getting everything I have away from me.

it's getting everything I have away from me


People would say its nothing compared to cancer or AIDS. But NO! It is worst than that. Those other conditions are diseases which weakens the immune system. This one doesn't just attack and weakens you. It takes command entirely over your body to go against itself. It is a threat not only to self but to other people as well. It takes away your God-given gift of free will. It takes away your virtues and your beliefs. Bipolar disorder has less been taken seriously. You would say it is all in the mind and it's a hormone-related stuff, a trauma bullshit. But those who suffer from it, like me, dies and suffer like cancer patients too. It is a killer and a thief.

Besides being self-destructive, what I'm totally scared of is when the time comes that I would loose this battle; let my love ones die in my own hands against my free will. This killer in me is what I am trying to keep locked up. My meds are piling in a heap. Every pill is important to keep me sane.  But sometimes those pills fail too. And every time they do, I always hope that I and my God won't fail the same way.







Tadz

Sunday, May 6, 2012

No more love songs but bitter memories

 My heart blooms into a thousand blossoms. I sleep and I dream of you, wishing you had stayed. Now all I do is believe in love songs wondering if we could still have that I love you.

If second chances were true then could there be  possibly you and me...

We planted this seed together and watch it grow and blossom. But now as the petals unfold I wished again that I set aside my pride.  

Thinking "what if" I had trapped you inside. It is to selfish for me to think of. But be it so if otherwise I had to spend my lifetime dreaming of you from afar.


Wish you could still hear me now, wish you still have the seed. If I could lure you with my scent, if I could just make you want me again. I wish I have never let go of you. It was those sweet memories that brings tears to my eyes. Regret comes knocking on my door telling me that "alone" was not my comfort.


 Painting my face with a broken smile, I wish you could come back and fix things that we left broken.


Now I'm just a lonesome flower hanging on walls, waiting to wither. Until I fade into my grey colors, I would still believe that you'd come back and bring colour once again into my life.

I could have loved you more, I could have loved you better, but time didn't favor us. The God's disagreed and space parted us. Words didn't mean as they used to. Love didn't sound the way it caresses our hearts.



We've been used as puppets to play a part which has been set before us. To love, to fall in love, to fall out of it. If puppets could only talk by themselves I'd request for the scriptwriter to change our faiths. 

If I could row the boat alone, I would for the two us. But there is nothing I can do if you wouldn't get in the ride, there is nothing I can do on a one-sided love.

 I know "together" is an impossible dream for the two of us. Only the memory of "us" remains. No more love songs for us, but only bitter memories to ache my heart.












(Spontaneous writing. It's off the hook. Never thought words would come out as I type them down. No drafts at all. NO specific subject described.)

NOTE: Does anyone know the name of the pink flower I used on the photos? It's been growing on our garden and it resembles cadena de amor(coral vine). please do tell me or comment it below. THANKS IN ADVANCE. :)
❤Tadz