I don’t like strangers. I like strangers. It depends on a lot of things. This time, I’m going to write about how you’re not always in danger around a stranger.
Strangers are humans, too. So they can be our friend. Even our friends were once strangers to us, too, anyway. Yesterday, I had another weird meeting with a stranger. Maybe for the stranger it wasn’t weird but for me it is.
Crying while walking on the street is normal for me. Unfortunately, this person did not notice I was about to cry before he approached me. He was, I suppose, in desperate need. He needs to go home but he’s short on money. He had a little problem with his ATM and he’s only got two pesos left. He needs 28 more pesos to get home. As he was trying to explain to me his problem, he looked like he was about to cry. He wasn’t able to cry, though. My eyes gave in before he can cry. I was trying my best not to cry. It’s just that there’s already enough water in both my eyes to let down one tear each. When the first one came rolling down, he noticed because I wiped it. He asked if I was okay. I said yes, I’m okay. Then he tried to explain again. The second tear just had to go. He noticed it again and asked is I was crying. I shook my head “no” and told him to just proceed with what he’s saying. He asked again if I’m okay. He asked me with quite a concern so I kind of gave in like how people on TV and movies cry when they’re not okay and someone finally notices they are not and asks them then they cry. I was like that. Only, instead of saying yes, I was just looking at him, trying to hold back my tears though you can actually start filming me already because of the reaction on my face. He wanted me to tell him what it is that’s making me cry. He insisted and of course I was uncomfortable. Why would I tell a stranger how I feel? Why would I trouble him? My friends might already be on their way to the mall where we’ll meet. I’m usually the most and only punctual friend. I don’t want to come late with puffy eyes. So I talked to the stranger to get it over with. I gave him an idea of what I’m going through and even though I really didn’t want to talk, I appreciate that he’s really trying to help. I haven’t even given him the 28 pesos and this person wants me to smile again and tells me I’ll be okay and that what I’m going through is normal and will be over soon. He didn’t get what I mean exactly but just the fact that he wastes time on a pathetic girl like me is, well, overwhelming. There was a point in our conversation where one of my friends was already calling me and I was in a dilemma. Shall I answer? Even with the tears in my eyes and his heartfelt words? I just let him talk. He made me smile and laugh a few times. I found out he’s in the marketing industry while I’m in advertising. He asked me my name and I told him my nickname (my real name will just cause more talk) and he told me his, well, I don’t know if it’s also just his nickname or if it’s his first name. He gave me a hug and shook my hand. I gave him his 28 pesos. I kind of felt like I bought kindness for 28 pesos. He thanked me. I said thank you, you helped me more than I helped you. We said goodbye again and we went our ways.
Crying while walking on the street is normal for me. What was different yesterday was there was somebody who will not let me just keep crying on the street and it was a stranger. I’m the type of person who finds it hard to make friends and I’m never the one to approach a person first. I don’t get comfortable with people after a meeting or two. I take more than enough time. Talking to a stranger is uncomfortable and weird for me. What’s worse is I’m telling him one of my problems. But sometimes, there’s just no one available at the actual moment. Maybe this person is sent. Or maybe life just knows how to have fun. Whatever happened, I’m okay that it happened. I can’t say I’m glad because I still think and feel weird about it. Maybe because it was really surprising. I let a stranger hug me. It wasn’t so bad. We can all use a hug sometimes. And I learned one thing from him. He said if I really don’t want to tell my problems to anybody, I can go spill it at the wind. Why not? The wind can’t complain or at least I won’t be hearing its judgement. I could use that advice.
I don’t think I can do the same for other people. I mean, I can’t do what that stranger did to me for other strangers. I just hope if you’re reading this and you’re not socially awkward like me, you’d try to do what that stranger did for me. You can do it in your own way. It’ll probably feel good. By the way, don’t we all need each other?
What bright yellow dress
You are wearing this morning.
It shows no sign of stress
Though it’s the other way you are facing.
You look so classy,
Your watch told me so.
And your bag doesn’t look heavy
Just ready to go.
It was your shoes that caught my eye,
That I had to look twice.
Weren’t those shoes worn by
The girl I bid goodbye?
Paminsan-minsan ayoko ng magsulat. Ayoko ng lumabas. Ayoko ng makipag-usap kahit kanino. Ayoko ng kumain. Gusto ko na lang matulog kahit hindi ako makatulog. Ayoko na.
May mga pagkakataon na gusto ko ng humingi ng tulong. Paano ba? Bakit pati paghingi ng tulong hindi ko alam? Kanino ba? Kanino ba ko hihingi ng tulong? Matutulungan ba niya kong talaga? Kailangan ko ba talaga ng tulong? Wag na nga. Lilipas rin naman to. Masyado ko lang binibigyan ng pansin ‘yong mga di magagandang na naiisip ko at nasa paligid ko. Mali kasi ang pinagtutuunan ko ng pansin.
Lilipas ang ilang araw o linggo, ayos na ko. Tapos ayan na naman. Para bang ‘yong kalungkutan na ‘yon eh nasa paligid lang. Naghihintay ng pagkakataon para kalabitin ulit ako. Pagharap ko yayakapin na niya ko. Maya-maya umiiyak na naman ako. Mapa sa kalsada man yan, sa jeep, sa bus, sa opisina, sa CR, sa mall, sa tren, walang pinipili. Pag niyakap na niya ko kusa na kong namamaluktot. Tapos may mangyayari na kahit papano makakapagpaalis sa kalungkutan na depresyon na yata. Pero kahit di na niya ko yakap, nakaakbay naman siya. Sa pinalamaliliit na bagay ayan at nakayakap agad siya. Nakakapagod na. Hindi ko na alam. Kalungkutan ba talaga to o gawa-gawa ko lang siya? Siya ba talaga ang yumayakap sa kin o ako ang nakakapit sa kaniya? Halos siya na lang ang nakikita ko at nawawalan na mg saysay ang lahat.
Ayoko ng magsulat. Ayoko ng bumangon. Ayoko ng makisalamuha sa kahit kanino. Madadamay lang sila sa kalungkutan ko. Ayoko ng lumabas. Ayoko na sa sarili ko. Kung makakatulog man ako, sana sobrang himbing na, ‘yong wala ng gisingan.
I noticed I don’t make new friends anymore. I think I know why. I’m tired of people who want me to tell them everything about me to get to know me. I’m not good at speaking. I like people who get to know me by what they see in me now and what they notice when I talk, how I react, how I respond to things, how I do things. I get anxious every time I hear someone say, “Tell me about yourself” or “Sooooo what are the things you like?” I always take my time getting to know people and I like people who do the same. You can’t really know a person in one sitting. You can’t even say you know one so well even if you’ve known each other for years. I like people who constantly pay attention because people do change over time.
Hm. Why am I posting this? I myself am not very good at getting to know people. I’m not even good at reading facial expressions (made me think once that I’m a sociopath. Hahaha. But I’m not. No worries) and body language. I’m just saying this because I think human beings need to pay more attention to human beings. We’re all the same yet we’re all different and vice versa. I think it’s only when you constantly observe people that you can see the sadness hidden in the eyes of a clown.
An empty space it seems,
But an empty space it is not
If only we were there.
If we were there we can
Talk about anything whether
They make sense or not.
We’d laugh and cry,
And not want to say
Yes, I can be pretty narcissistic. Not sometimes but most of the time.
I know I don’t write that good but I still write. I even find myself appreciating my own writing sometimes. I’m not very good at drawing and painting yet I keep on doing it and I also find myself liking my own creations. I’m not a very good ainger and I don’t play the guitar well yet I enjoy listening to myself play and sing.
I always talk about myself on social media. I talk about how funny, corny, ridiculous and stupid I am and sometimes, how I think I’m getting better at stuff.
It looks like I only see myself, my own pain and suffering. And when I’m having trouble about life and other stuff, it’s also myself that I see. Why is it so hard to find a friend whom I can tell whatever to? Is it me or is it just me or me or me or me or me? I don’t mind being on my own. I love my own company. I prefer being alone. But because I’m human, I need other human beings too. I like listening but I don’t feel like anybody can listen to me and actually hear what I’m trying to say. Is it just me or me or me or me or it’s just really me?
Yes, I only see myself and I don’t like it.
Sketch me back to life,
Give me form like a knife
Cuts to make a change
And can make a family strange.
Every stroke is a breath,
Every shade gives depth,
Erasures are second chances
Because we are not flawless.
The length of time doesn’t matter,
As long as every line gets you closer
To a creation from a new dimension,
Like a believable illusion.
Still, I’d like to remind you,
The outcome depends on your point of view.
So, be careful of what I’ve entrusted–
A pen that’s old and crooked.
Sketch me back to life,
So I won’t end things with a knife.
Make the act that will make the cut,
To make a stop to all my buts.