regurgitation

Half crouching, she trudges towards the blinding radiance, visible through the slightly open door. She gravitates towards it, slightly nudging the entrance open with her shoulders. She finds herself transported into another dimension, a space so faultless, its walls and floor as white as death.

"When you start to unwind, you aren’t really unwinding. A couple of hours later, it’s the world that’s winding," a great prophet used to say. The world is indeed winding right now.

She positions her head a couple of inches away from the white marble orifice on the left corner of the room. It is spotless, disinfected and sanitary. She does not mind if her lips almost touch it. Nor does she take notice of it her drunken haze. It’s not really a problem.

Your cellular phone is a hundred times dirtier than this, an ad goes. The toilet is not dirty. It is the most perfect place to let everything go.

Gasping for air, she feels her stomach churn wildly, joshing together the remnants of last night. Seven Vodka-Red bull shots, six bottles of beer, eight more tequila body shots and a bowl of chicken noodle soup - the perfect menu for an unrestrained and abandoned evening with several friends.

She begins to retch, that abhorrent reflex usually coming right before spewing. It is an ugly feeling – to feel the vomitus up the esophagus, ready to be disgorged, but blocked by the esophageal sphincter. She can almost smell, taste, hear and feel that hideous rush of acidic blob. Straining, she holds her long hair back, lest it fall into the toilet. She struggle hard, but nothing comes out.

The toilet bowl is barren. Empty and waiting to be used.

Her right hand shoots up to the sink beside the toilet. She grabs a toothbrush and thrusts it into her mouth, poking her throat, reaching as far as she can. Nauseated and out of breath, she forces herself to regurgitate, straining her throat muscles and flexing her diaphragm to help. It is a painful process.

Vomit starts to flow freely from her stomach; it rushes through her esophagus, exits her mouth and splashes into the toilet. The sound of sick resonating throughout the enclosed space.

Some call it doing the Technicolor yawn.

To her it is just another event to cap another exhausting night out. Her vomit is a mess of all sorts, slightly orange from the alcohol with poorly digested noodle strands. It reeks of desolation. It marks the end of a horrible and depressing struggle. It begins yet a more melancholic one.

She stands up, gargles with running water, and slowly trudges out of the immaculate bathroom. Plopping on the bed, she does not bother to change or take off the trappings of her desperate reality.

Ah, the subsequent effects of a hard night out. It is four in the morning, and she slowly drifts into liquored sleep, sad, filthy and sober. What was forgotten is now remembered.

—

Is bodily penance the price to pay for temporary happiness? When problems are lost momentarily under the dark moon lit skies, when the body is numb, when happiness is unadulterated and existence is forgotten..

back to basics

Again, I wander alone at school - without friends, really. Not that I don't have friends. I'm very friendly, but the thing is, most of my friends and acqauitances in school have gone ahead and graduated already. And I am left, a lone wandering soul. I search for quiet corners in school where I can sit, enjoy my drink and happily tap away on my keyboard.

But still - I miss the days of walking around the campus and stumbling into friends at every corner. I have no idea when that will happen again.

I look up from my laptop every now and then, hoping to find a familiar face, but there are no familiar places. And this whole thing sucks but what else can I do?

Hay, I just wish for this whole college thing to be over. WOo

Grade Whore

Classmate: "Wow. This is your third report in class! You really try hard eh."

Me: "Yeah. I'm a grade - whore."

Classmate: "I didn't know there was such a thing."

Me: "I just coined that term this morning."


XD Grade whore na kung grade whore.

The Last Night

An amateur attempt at poetry. Can you feel the emotion? XD

I find myself in this dark abyss again.

A clearing in the midnight woods
Where I stand in front of you

Eyes looking at eyes.
Cold air touching my skin
where your hands should have been.

And I wake.

My heart like drums, my soul like
newly wrung clothes in the bright morning sun.

We loved in the most secret way,
With our eyes,
and the dancing voices at the backs of our minds

We loved in the most secret place
One that the world never knew.

Learning

How do you deal when you want something you can never, ever have? Do you continue to want, day and night, with a heavy heart and a torn soul - Or do you get up, grin and bear it, and move on?

I wish it was so easy to leave away the pain of wanting something that you can never, ever have, something that can never, ever be - something that, even if you move the heavens and the earth around, can never be true at all.

I don't even know what to say. But if you've been there, you'd know the feeling. I don't even have to tell you.

Hours of Hell

My friends call the alternating five hour power outages as five hours of hell. And who wouldn't? Imagine staying at home all afternoon without electricity - no electric fan, no air-conditioning, no television, no computer and internet access and no way to charge cellphone batteries in case they die out. Last week, I've experienced three alternating days of power outages, and they were also indeed five hours of hell. I've been worrying about the rotational blackouts incessantly - What about my work? Can I sleep without the electric fan/aircon on? I started worrying if I could even survive five hours without electricity - let alone three more months without electricity for five hours, every other day.

At times it feels like it's a bad thing, especially when I pass by areas affected by the power outages at night and see upturned cars and crashed motorcycles (true, these things have become very common these days.) Sometimes it feels like an omen, like a warning that 2012 is just around the corner.

But then again, I also like to look at it at another perspective. I was riding the jeepney from school earlier tonight, and I couldn't help but be amazed at the semi -darkness (or quasi darkness? thank you, dear generators) that engulfed the city. The pace was slower, plenty of people actually walked in groups and stood closer to each other on the streets, people were hanging out in the kantos with their candles and fires.

Tonight was the first night we experienced the 6 - 11 PM blackout schedule at home. Off all the blackout schedules (8 - 1 PM, 1PM to 6PM), a lot of people agree that among all the blackout schedules this one is the worst. But I actually enjoyed tonight, in a way. This is because I've been glued to the computer lately. Before I even went back to school I have always been on the computer, working. Now that I went back to school - it's always school, studies and then the computer for work. Add the fact that I'm running the household (parents both work out of town) and raising a 17 month old baby girl - and things can get MORE than hectic and stressful.

The power outage was a fresh experience for me - everything was silent, everything was still. Oh, well, because of the silence I could hear heavy equipment working faintly somewhere near - but who cares? Because of the power outage, I was able to stay in bed for five full hours, talking and cuddling with boyfriend (who shall be henceforth referred to as BF in the following posts) in the glow of the warm candle light. I was also able to enjoy playing and putting Daughter (who shall be henceforth referred to as D in the following posts)to sleep. The power interruption enabled me to just lie down and do nothing and even catch an hour's sleep - without actually feeling guilty about wasting precious time doing nothing. The only catch was that I had to slather on D's smelly citronella insect repellent and fan myself with a plastic folder to keep the mosquitos away.

But still, the experience was a lovely one. I'd love to do that even more. The whole staying in bed thing. But I'd love to do it even more with the aircon on.

Post Uno

I just realized that there are plenty more things I want to write about aside from pregnancy, motherhood, baby wipes and more - and I think that some of these stuff wouldn't really fit into my other blog - www.preggointhecity.blogspot.com..

Sooo..

I made this new one. I'm still keeping the old one for my baby product reviews, musings and all, but this will be my personal blog.

My God, I write every single day of my life because it's what I do to earn a living..but I miss writing for me! I need to write for me, and this is just the beginning.

Cheers to me.