tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-92177521475442313972024-03-23T03:17:38.456-07:00tremors of an accidental touristtomorrow, there will be a new hurt to healAhmad xiv Tanjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173036074548909713noreply@blogger.comBlogger99125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217752147544231397.post-56676275809596388142024-02-01T09:04:00.000-08:002024-02-01T09:04:49.464-08:00Redemption?<p> Thinking of killing myself again. </p><p>Think about it: a narcissistic man killing himself out of spite for himself.</p><p>I am crying at my own imaginary funeral.</p><p>Who will miss me? </p><p>Who will take care of my cats?</p><p>What will Dylan and Art say?</p><p>Who will talk shit?</p><p>Who will recognize all my efforts, my art?</p><p>What will the ex-wife think?</p><p>Where should I be buried? </p><p>Does it even matter?</p><p><br /></p><p>I have been forcing myself to lock up these earducts ever since that fight with Gracel, seeing Guillermo struggling for his life, and feeling guilty for counting the money I am paying for my pet's vet bills.</p><p><br /></p><p>I thought I found a wAy out but I am nowhere near redemption. </p><p><br /></p><p>I have been thinking again of killing myself. </p>Ahmad xiv Tanjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173036074548909713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217752147544231397.post-74351053838539519082023-12-25T07:49:00.000-08:002023-12-25T07:49:11.204-08:00Losing my kids. Losing myself.<p> I fear of losing my part of being a father.</p><p>I fear the memory of me in their minds slipping away.</p><p>I am just a holiday fixture. Another endorphin rush.</p><p>And to think that I am convinced that this is the only job I am doing right.</p><p>I really hope I am just imagining things, but I hope they still can see the value of us staying together once in a while.</p><p><br /></p><p>I appreciate tbe mundane things. </p><p>A story post. A surprise photo. A proud note.</p><p>Never felt that coming from my kids lately. I know I should let them be, but I have noone else to remind them how these things are important.</p><p><br /></p><p>They don't know how I am breaking down in a transient home somewhere in alternate road alone, thinking that they would consider guy more special to them than me. I worry. I worry. My God, I am crying and worrying. I don't want to lose my only role in their lives.</p><p><br /></p><p>I hope this changes when we come home to Iriga. </p>Ahmad xiv Tanjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173036074548909713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217752147544231397.post-58298226440510879982023-08-07T12:51:00.004-07:002023-12-25T07:51:13.606-08:00IN THE END<p> I hope when I die and all the stupid bad stuff comes out of me being narcissistic or selfish or aggressive or depressive or simply a bad person, I pray that my daughters will be wise enough to accept my imperfections and not let that define my legacy and the memories I have with them as a father.</p><p>May Art and Dylan not lean on any gray area because they know, in their hearts, that though their father is far from the ideal son or citizen or lover or even friend, he has done everything to be a good father — and that is enough.</p><p>I hope that they will understand that I was brought up in a trauma-bearing multicultural home with an absentee immature mom and a a patriarchal-thinking dad. Not that I am blaming my parents — it is what it is. They did their best. But I always wonder about the what-ifs.</p><p>I became so sensitive and angry and envious that I am what I am. I always needed validation. I remember telling Dylan one time about my "pagtatampo" of her being not proud of me. Cringey. But I dont believe that parents shouldn't show weaknesses.</p><p> Sometimes I wonder if being open was the right thing. But I know no other way.</p><p>I did my best when it comes to being a father. Yes, not economically. Yes, not distance-wise. I hope they still see all my efforts; how I am affected easily when it comes to my kids.</p><p>I hope they will defend my memory. Because nobody ever does. And nobody will. </p><p>I love them both so much — art and dylan.</p><p>Both so different, both so unique.</p><p>Both came out from my flesh. I can see big pieces of myself in both of them. </p><p>Dylan may be anxious (as I am) than the typical kid but she is naturally a kindhearted girl. She is born to lead. She adds magic to anything she touches. She knows what she wants. May she trust her instincts always and stand up for what she believes in, and avoid the pitfalls of pleasing anyone but herself - and her loved ones.</p><p>Art may be rowdy and hardheaded (as I am) but her search for uniqueness, her voice this early is astounding. She may crave attention, but I hope she realizes that she doesn't need it because her presence commands it without effort. Her lightheartedness can turn a dark room bright. May she learn to slow down and focus on her gifts and not take it for granted. May she have the fire to learn and learn more and not let ego get in the way.</p><p>I am sorry I wasn't that around and telephone calls can't ever replace the real thing. I try. Not enough, but I tried.</p><p>I love you.</p><p>***These letters are not addressed to anyone. But I hope it finds its ways to my kids when time is right.***</p><p><br /></p>Ahmad xiv Tanjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173036074548909713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217752147544231397.post-73043015737447396302023-08-07T12:37:00.002-07:002023-08-07T12:37:37.260-07:00more than words<p> Had an epiphany one weekend ago.</p><p>What makes me different as a lyricist is my love for words. Sure, songwriters will claim the same thing, but not as much as I do. </p><p>I enjoy phrases and words used in movies. I pee over properly placed figures of speech. I don't care if it is too british or not used in the vernacular; if it sounded great, it will find its way to one of my songs.</p><p>This is also a curse. That is why people can't sing along easily. It is not as if these are deep jargons noone would understand. Listeners who claims to be music lovers do not like dissecting. They want words to be eaasily digestible. Think Lang Leav. Why is she more quoted than the witty lines of Frank O Hara? EXACTLY.</p><p>I helped Art rewrite her song last night. I find it cute that she is trying to find her voice. And somehow, now, she is listening to his geeky old man babble about the importante of a rhyme or why repetitive words is a no-no. I treasure times like these. These are a few of the instances I know I am doing well as a father — that I am needed.</p>Ahmad xiv Tanjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173036074548909713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217752147544231397.post-61950690288116465592023-07-25T15:28:00.004-07:002023-07-25T15:28:53.238-07:00Half-Year Report<p> I wrote a song yesterday.</p><p>But it was an old song that I forgot that lyrics. It got a better chorus though. Can imagine it having a Jens Lekman vibe. I wonder if anyone would dig that. I am being genuine with my love for words, but not everyone reads.</p><p><br /></p><p>Sent it to a lot of people. Needing validation. When will I realize I am good?</p><p><br /></p><p>Am I though?</p><p><br /></p><p>I miss dylan and art.</p><p>Two very different personalities. </p><p>I love how I am so much like Dylan in the anxious-sentimental type who is into good movies and pop culture. </p><p>Art craves attention and doesnt care if what ever she does is perfect — she just wants to perform and express her uniqueness. </p><p>Both like me.</p><p>How fascinated I am how these angels came out from my own DNA.</p><p><br /></p><p>I miss watching movies with my kids. I mean we still do but sometimes I feel that I am forcing them to watch me. I know they like my selection, but they wont be 100% focus.</p><p>Maybe I just miss having a real girlfriend who I can totally geek with.</p><p><br /></p><p>Speaking, where is she?</p><p>I am feeling lonely back here.</p><p><br /></p><p>Been having breakdowns again. Crashing. Remedying it by reading the bible. It helps a little.</p><p><br /></p><p>That London girl is hurting me a lot. I know there is no good end in sight but why do I stay? That's how thrash my self worth it. It is toxic.</p><p><br /></p><p>Not that I am saying I am perfect. I am narcississtic too. But I feel that I am being fooled shamelessly. And being the hopeless romantic that I am, I keep waiting. I keep staying...</p>Ahmad xiv Tanjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173036074548909713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217752147544231397.post-40868925896905400652023-05-08T11:48:00.002-07:002023-05-08T11:48:21.283-07:00another boohoo postI notice I need a couple of Seinfeld episodes to calm my nerves down and rock my brain to sleep.<div><br /></div><div>I notice I am still not comfortable sleeping over. I get suffocated even just thinking about it. Even when I visit friends and there is chance to just stay, I would find myself panicking inside. </div><div><br /></div><div>I realized I am not over the trauma caused by Mawhi. No I dont want to get back with her — as if that's possible. But I get this big wave of jealousy that she got over me quick and found a safe space with another guy. I refuse to acknowledge that that guy is better pffft. It just another mistake waiting to happen.</div><div><br /></div><div>But I guess that feeling of being contented with the imperfections of it all. </div><div><br /></div><div>I miss just having plans of staying over and doing nothing but a movie. Then wild sex. Then sleep. Then looking forward to another breakfast with good coffee. Then another movie. Or playing guitar with her doing hee stuff. It is just plain boredom in wes anderson hue. I miss having someone to go home to.</div><div><br /></div><div>And though I have been trying to connect with someone, the uncertainty of that future just kills the vibe. </div><div><br /></div><div>It is just sad to be alone. </div>Ahmad xiv Tanjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173036074548909713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217752147544231397.post-83524837425837177262023-04-02T15:23:00.003-07:002023-05-08T11:50:12.319-07:00Unload<p> I am freeing my mind from the clutter by going directly to this blank page without a draft.</p><p>Am I really still happy with her?</p><p>I am affected but I also know I stand by what is right. And what makes it difficult is the existing hurt she inflicted to me that can't be erased. I miss her face. I miss our talks. I miss when we play. But is it all worth the drama and hurt?</p><p>I hope I am getting through Art and Dylan. Been trying hard to leave nuggets of wisdom so when I die, there'll be enough quotable quotes that I hope they'll use. Thinking bout it, I don't have any from my parents. God, please make me more affecting to my kids. Please.</p><p>Benadryl did not work last night.</p><p>I feel my bandmates are laughing at me for being so serious at my craft and it depresses me. WE ARE IMAGINARY can't move without me. Everyone knows that, but they can't seem to appreciate the sacrifices I do with this band. I really need to focus at myself. </p><p>I pray for new bandmates who can match my drive. Who believe in my vision. Who just love to play. Please.</p><p>Loneliness. Poverty. </p><p>I hope someone will go to great lengths raising money for my treatment when I am ill, just like what people are doing back home for Peewee and here for Gab. I am scared that noone will care.</p><p>Realized if I have a stroke right now or even a heart attack, nobody will check on me for days.</p><p>And here I am trying to be there for everybody.</p>Ahmad xiv Tanjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173036074548909713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217752147544231397.post-15035277447282010912023-03-15T10:15:00.002-07:002023-03-15T10:15:42.626-07:0041<p> 2nd cup of black coffee with condensed milk.</p><p><br /></p><p>Suddenly placed on the night shift on the eve of my birthday.</p><p><br /></p><p>I am 41.</p><p><br /></p><p>I am not afraid of age. I may feel unloveable now, but I have this innate confidence that I look way better than most guys my age. But if I can lose this hump of a belly, I’ll be way better than those in their 30s.</p><p><br /></p><p>Cringeworthy? I am sorry, but it is true.</p><p><br /></p><p>Having a good job with cars and extra money is another story; that’s where I always lose.</p><p><br /></p><p>I never understood why I felt so unspecial, especially on my birthday.</p><p><br /></p><p>I know it has something to do with my parents, but I am already 41, and I still feel that no one really cares about my existence.</p><p><br /></p><p>Being a type 4 with a double Pisces sign is a bad combo- you crave attention and uniqueness.</p><p><br /></p><p>I thought I had both. Guess it is all in my head.</p><p><br /></p><p>My daughter was here this weekend. Helped me get through the days. I always wonder if she loves me just because it is required. How about my youngest – does she think about me or want to brag that her parents are artists? I know I am demanding and reading too much of their actions. They’re teenagers, for God’s sake.</p><p><br /></p><p>But I don’t want them to feel what I feel about my parents.</p><p><br /></p><p>Even though I am separated from the wife, I know I have been more open and communicative with them than with my parents. </p><p><br /></p><p>At least I’m trying. </p><p>Cause I love them. They dont know that I still crash and cry after I scold them. I hope they can feel me trying.</p><p>Where the fuck is contentment and peace?</p><p><br /></p><p> </p>Ahmad xiv Tanjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173036074548909713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217752147544231397.post-62929885939115866392023-02-28T04:56:00.006-08:002023-05-09T10:39:18.683-07:00Hello March 2023<p> You know you are traumatized when you are worried to express yourself fully here. This has been a journal where I can ramble and let my negativity go wild without anyone calling me a sad boi.</p><p>I am sad.</p><p>Saw my kid cry over someone who was diagnosed with cancer. I felt bad that all I can think about is she didn't cry when I was confined for a mild stroke. Is it reality or impostor syndrome that I am not really as important to my children as I think I am? Shouldn't go down this rabbit hole. Shouldn't. I can't afford to. Scary.</p><p>I am broke. </p><p>Kid needs impacted tooth surgery money. Need to send the monthly allowance. I owe a couple of friends money. Record collection is getting thinner as I am selling them one by one- in pain. I have a number of debts I need to settle with the ex-wife. Bills that kept piling up.</p><p>It is not that I am not trying. I am actually. Hard. Life is just hard. And even if I earn 30k a month, turns out it is not enough to pay for my bills and settle my responsibilities. </p><p>One will argue I chose this life. Well I didn't. But it happened and I accepted it. You may say that is the bare minimum but nope. It is a heavy load. </p><p>An acquaintance just bought a new guitar just because she likes the color and I am bummed out. Where does she get the money? Not even working, for God's sake. These privileged kids can afford to focus on music 100% even without talent and that makes me sad and frustrated.</p><p>I know I'm just spewing projectiles here but let me. I am negative and I am going insane.</p><p>I just hope people will quote my songs and cry in my funeral. I know I wouldn't know but I believe in the idea of "soul." So probably I'll know. </p><p>It is my birthday month. </p><p>Just want to get away, treat myself to good food, watch a lot of gigs, get crazy and fuck around, go record shopping and maybe change my wardrobe. But NO. </p><p>I CAN'T AFFORD TO. </p>Ahmad xiv Tanjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173036074548909713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217752147544231397.post-43283341354520839312022-12-29T13:08:00.002-08:002022-12-29T13:08:04.960-08:00Iriga 2022<p> 5 a.m.</p><p>Woke up after less than 2 hours of sleep because of a suicide dream.</p><p><br /></p><p>Kids are on the top bed in my old room in iriga. I lie in my thin solo bed on the floor.</p><p><br /></p><p>Had a milo and ful medammes with bread.</p><p><br /></p><p>Cried over a prayer through a Bible app.</p><p><br /></p><p>I am trying to be conscious and be more present with my kids. I haven't been messaging anyone, even ignoring long convos with friends.</p><p><br /></p><p> I notice that I am now a little off...not used to touchiness, which I need to initiate. The kids need hugs. I need hugs. </p><p>I also need to talk to Art more than just laugh over silly jokes (but I hope those laughters will create fond memories).</p><p>I hope Dylan also feel that I care a lot about her thoughts even if I playfully debate her over scenarios.</p><p><br /></p><p>I want to be happy. </p><p>Hope I am doing the right thing.</p><p><br /></p><p>I want to be remembered </p><p>not only for songs, </p><p>but for little moments of joy. </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Ahmad xiv Tanjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173036074548909713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217752147544231397.post-67801084428026151622022-12-07T12:02:00.001-08:002022-12-07T12:02:35.591-08:00Falling Out of Grace<p> This is what having a relationship with a narcissist feels like:</p><p>You are left wanting. You adjust to her own time. You can't really move because without her even saying it, all action is upon her approval.</p><p>She makes you believe that the "secret world" you created with her is better than reality— making you feel like the toxicity is part of the deal. She makes sure noone will hear your cries for help—as nobody knows.</p><p>You convince yourself that despite all clues pointing to her lies and infidelity, and she can't even give you a proper excuse, you'll hold on. You defy reason. </p><p>She'll bombard you with sweet gestures. She'll clutch her nails on you. She'll disguised obsession with love. Your addiction is her drug. </p><p>She'll keep you guessing, as you swing with her moods. Everything is a push-pull catastrophe.</p><p>She is the criteria you need to please. She is the only standard that is all-knowing and right. </p><p>She'll push you to your worst, so there'll be evidence that she might be innocent. But oh, innocence is the farthest thing from her. She knows what she is capable of.</p><p>And lastly, she'll justify with pride that she can't be hurt and that you put yourself in that position. She will deny gaslighting you. She will deny your existence. She will make you the villain.</p>Ahmad xiv Tanjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173036074548909713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217752147544231397.post-76562232829085276062022-12-07T11:37:00.003-08:002022-12-07T11:43:22.935-08:00Good Place<p>Had my first therapy session today. It didn't help the way I was hoping to. The therapist talked a lot, trying to relate to what an artist is going through and missing the big picture. I guess I should deal with this on my own.</p><p> Took a lot for me to book a session. The first one canceled because of a technical difficulty, without even considering the courage I have to muster just to be there.</p><p>I feel ugly and inadequate. 94 kgs and can't find the determination to lose more. I need to go down to 70kgs to be healthy. Not to mention, I am losing a lot of hair. Scares me.</p><p>I found that coffee is the only thing I look forward to every day. I don't know if that is a sad thing.</p><p>I have gigs lined up, but that is me trying to push myself. I haven't done 2 sets for years and doing it alone in front of a mainstream night market crowd is scary. Let's see.</p><p>I'm going to Baler this weekend to play without my friends tagging along. Hoping to meet strangers that can inspire me. </p>Ahmad xiv Tanjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173036074548909713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217752147544231397.post-74874989981831877382022-11-29T13:18:00.001-08:002022-11-29T13:18:17.367-08:00Captive Audience<p> My mommy cat Rangu has been extra clingy. She's always hanging out beside me or leaning on my right shoulder. I wonder what it feels like to have someone warm to be in her place. I can sleep around, but I know the difference of real human company.</p><p>Cried twice today. Did not wail. Just teary-eyed over a sermon from Elevation Church, and now, the decision to take another benadryl pill just to sleep. </p><p>I crave for peace of mind, but I am quite convinced that it will take this lifetime to even feel that. My mind gets scrambled just thinking of the possibility — and this is not even an exaggeration.</p><p>I have been jealous of the success of others.</p><p>I have been envious of the warmth of friends who are always available.</p><p>I have been angry over people who easily earns money and are born to privileged homes.</p><p>I have been depressed over the fact that I have nothing --- all just fleeting hints of possible joy.</p><p>I was never depressed about turning 40. I am quite confident actually that I look good in this age. I have been receiving genuine awe that I don't look my age and I cling to those compliments because those are all I have.</p><p>And my cats.</p>Ahmad xiv Tanjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173036074548909713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217752147544231397.post-10841488600806790772022-11-27T12:53:00.001-08:002022-11-27T12:53:38.494-08:00Sugar for a Pill<p> I found that hanging out with musicians somehow takes away the loneliness. Though I still doubt their intentions of even keeping me company, it is better than nothing.</p><p>2nd day of the Shoegaze Festival.</p><p>Someone mentioned Washington Drama Club. Got jealous of performers tonight. I do want their applause. I do deserve a captive audience — at least a chance to let them listen.</p><p>The problem is like fireflies, I can't capture the burst of creative ideas and put them in a jar. Just one angkas ride away and puff, it is all dead and gone.</p><p>I should read more, but I have trouble even finishing netflix series that I resort to rewatching Seinfeld to calm my anxious mind. Boy, that guy is getting richer by my streams.</p><p>4:51 am and two malings later, I am writing this in hope that I can sleep without any lonely thought floating across my tired brain.</p><p>Soon enough, that benadryl pill will work its magic. </p><p>I need money. I can't seem to have enough to buy happiness.</p>Ahmad xiv Tanjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173036074548909713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217752147544231397.post-75946062429023127992022-11-24T15:48:00.002-08:002022-11-24T15:48:15.139-08:00Hopeless Case<div>Nov. 25, 2022</div><div>7:44 a.m.</div><div><br /></div>How much more can I take?<div><br /></div><div>I just learned about imposter syndrome and maybe that's what I am going through. </div><div>Yes I am not sure because even classifying under a recognizable disorder, I feel I am not worthy.</div><div><br /></div><div>Validation shouldn't be expected from others but we are built that way so I learned to accept that as social beings, everything is left to judgement of the world.</div><div><br /></div><div>I just want to feel I belong.</div><div><br /></div><div>I just want to feel loved.</div><div><br /></div><div>I just want to feel that I affect and inspire people more than I assume in my head.</div><div><br /></div><div>Fuck nobody even cares about what my music is about, and we have a lot of thrash getting the attention they don't deserve.</div><div><br /></div><div>I kept finding myself in this cycle and not by lack of trying to get out — there is a sense of acceptance that to finally be happy and be out of financial constraints and be accepted, I need luck. Divine intervention. A sudden magical plottwist.</div><div><br /></div><div>And that's one hell of a prayer.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Ahmad xiv Tanjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173036074548909713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217752147544231397.post-5150559962778854792022-10-02T12:18:00.002-07:002022-10-02T12:18:56.243-07:00Evidence-based<p> It gets complicated when all they see are photos to convince the "friends" list of your imaginary happy life. And I also have an imaginary girlfriend who disappears whenever she wants to without a care of my feelings. So much for evidence-based love.</p><p><br /></p><p>And sometimes it is hard to lie. My body has been telling me that by giving me all the shit to bother me like obesity and insomnia.</p><p>***</p><p>I have been taking benadryl almost every week to sleep. </p><p>***</p><p>Worried about being a good father. Trying my best. Feeling bitter that I am not always available because I don't have a home in legazpi and I can't afford to always go home. I hope Dylan and Art feel my struggle and see my sacrifices. I constantly think about this. </p><p>***</p><p>I always worry that I'll die before I can even record all the best songs I have. </p><p><<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: x-small;">But what best songs? People don't even read your lyrics. They still think you are an old grumpy fraud.></span></p><p><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: x-small;">***</span></p><p>I am glad that the songwriting session with the band turned out well. We didn't discuss goals but still, a good start. That has been bothering for weeks. Felt like I've gone through a breakup. But I've learned way enough to not rely on the good times.</p><p>So yes, I need to form another band so I won't be held back. Lots of materials. My death clock is ticking.</p><p><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: x-small;">Mad Tangerine?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: x-small;">Tanjirine?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: x-small;">Between Tangerine?</span></p><p>***</p><p>The benadryl is kicking in. Hope it will promise me good dreams.</p><p><br /></p>Ahmad xiv Tanjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173036074548909713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217752147544231397.post-68092683593586309292022-10-02T12:06:00.009-07:002022-10-02T12:06:59.025-07:00FEB 25 2021<p> Saw this post today and wondered how I didn't get to post this. </p><p>---------------‐-------------------------‐---‐----------------‐---</p><p>I've been practicing forgiviness</p><p>for things worth forgetting,</p><p>And I am failing most of the time.</p><p><br /></p><p>These triggers, when it is pushed into you like a noose on your neck, they paralyze your soul. And the funny thing is I am highly functional for anyone to suspect that there is a deep dark void that consumes me every other day. </p><p>See what I did there? </p><p>I am even ashamed to admit the routinary hell I have been in.</p><p>I am getting better. I like to think so.</p><p>I have been trying to live on my own and accept my self worth more. The trick is not taking everything seriously.</p><p>Yes it is a trick. I am tricking myself. I am reminding myself now it is a trick.</p><p><br /></p><p>Be functional, Ahmad.</p><p>You are doing fine.</p><p>You are worth loving.</p><p>You will be ok. </p>Ahmad xiv Tanjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173036074548909713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217752147544231397.post-4426038530194622032020-11-11T03:35:00.001-08:002020-11-11T03:35:08.135-08:00Lost / Loss / Lose<p> When you think you found an ounce of happiness enough to carry you for the rest of 2020 but it became another departure story.</p><p><br /></p><p>I can't imagine being inflicted with two heartbreaks in one year and yet here I am.</p><p><br /></p><p>Sometimes I ask if I am married to the blues.</p><p>If I am doomed to be alone.</p><p>Still I need to be thankful of this plot twist. I could have gone mad. Worth it. Still is. </p><p>I was about to lose it.</p><p>I was seriously numb and hopeless.</p><p>Twist. </p><p>But I am lost. Again. At loss.</p><p>I have been losing all my life. </p><p><br /></p><p>Hold on, Ahmad. </p><p>Hold on to your dear sanity. </p>Ahmad xiv Tanjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173036074548909713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217752147544231397.post-20030047603394539932020-10-07T12:36:00.000-07:002020-10-07T12:36:01.256-07:00T I R E D<p>Relapsing with cries of help</p><p>4 days in a row</p><p>And I thought I was getting better </p><p>The knife just became an attractive option</p><p>And does anybody hear me?</p><p>I kept reading the online Bible</p><p>seeking any kind of clarity</p><p>And it seems I am also condemned </p><p>As I still feel alone</p><p>When will this burden ends?</p><p>I am tired.</p><p>A pat at the back</p><p>For fooling everyone that I have been</p><p>doing well </p><p>Guess I am getting worse </p><p>Then again who cares?</p><p>The point I am here again</p><p>Just answered my question. </p><p><br /></p><p>I am tired.</p>Ahmad xiv Tanjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173036074548909713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217752147544231397.post-17402736272879874842020-09-03T02:19:00.002-07:002020-09-03T02:19:33.431-07:00On my way to Manila<p> Thousand feet up in the air, sobbing like a kid over a quote from a movie I never saw.</p><p><br /></p><p>"...Just one moment with me."</p><p><br /></p><p>I'll die for a moment of clarity.</p><p>I'll die for a moment of peace.</p><p>Thousand feet up in the air and I am vulnerable. Closer to heaven. Far from a home I even don't know where.</p><p><br /></p>Ahmad xiv Tanjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173036074548909713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217752147544231397.post-31214033426584498442020-06-27T11:11:00.003-07:002020-06-27T11:11:24.037-07:00.....!Saturday is<br />
was<br />
ok<br />
at first.<br />
<br />
No special occasion.<br />
Did some errands.<br />
Preparing for my travel<br />
to Bicol.<br />
<br />
Numb.<br />
Yes that's what it is.<br />
<br />
And I worry<br />
that this feeling of limbo<br />
feeling<br />
dead<br />
is the closest thing<br />
to<br />
peace<br />
<br />
But<br />
I'll take it.<br />
Anything.<br />
<br />
Then I got triggered<br />
by a certain episode<br />
about dating<br />
from a dumb Netflix sitcom.<br />
<br />
Then I watched<br />
that spoken word performance<br />
of the dad talking bout<br />
the rules of dating his daughter<br />
<br />
Then I found myself<br />
HERE<br />
which was supposed to be a safe place.<br />
<br />
Saw a post where I thanked God<br />
for Mawhi<br />
because she's the only person<br />
who can stand me.<br />
<br />
Where is she now?<br />
<br />
Can I just go back to numb?<br />
I am pathetic.<br />
<br />
<br />Ahmad xiv Tanjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173036074548909713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217752147544231397.post-86798296011143831412020-06-24T11:30:00.000-07:002020-06-24T11:30:15.572-07:00.... The mindboggling contradiction<br />
of leaning to your Christian faith<br />
then listening to your single friends<br />
who claim to know what love is about<br />
<br />
Smoke screen.<br />
<br />
2:27 AM<br />
<br />
And I am hoping<br />
that clips of your face<br />
won't keep replaying<br />
in my head<br />
<br />
God bless dumb sitcoms<br />
<br />
A friend casually drop "labyu"<br />
<br />
Got teary-eyed<br />
<br />
Square one.<br />
<br />
Lost.<br />
<br />
Hoping to be found.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Ahmad xiv Tanjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173036074548909713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217752147544231397.post-31817236840959522682020-06-19T07:58:00.004-07:002022-11-24T15:49:40.788-08:00...I am breaking down more than usual.<br />
<br />
What do you do when you have been trying to be a better person<br />
but she can only see you from what you were: a trigger.<br />
<br />
I know I've changed. Damn I know I did.<br />
<br />
People may scoff against the idea of leaning to Christian faith<br />
in times of need,<br />
but I have been praying. a lot.<br />
It helps.<br />
I mean who else can ever have the patience<br />
to listen to my litany in this season<br />
where everyone has their own battles to face.<br />
<br />
I always thought that I was faking this sudden move to impress her<br />
<br />
but I have caught myself kneeling down so many times<br />
weeping, calling out His name, without an audience.<br />
It gives me comfort. Enough to get me through the day.<br />
Before I crash again.<br />
<br />
Oh Lord.<br />
<br />
Oh what I can give for a little peace of mind.<br />
For a little joy.<br />
<br />
Back to square one.<br />
<br />
I wept like someone died<br />
when a friend told me about getting closure<br />
from an old flame today.<br />
I cried for his win.<br />
I cried in envy.<br />
I cried for what I've lost.<br />
I've cried for doing my best<br />For 2months<br />
and in just a day,<br />
I was erased.<br />
I cried because I know<br />
I have changed.<br />
<br />
I honestly don't know now what is real.<br />
<br />
I have to pour out everything here<br />
'cause I can't contain it much longer.<br />
<br />
Blogspot has long been dead.<br />
Perfect for an anonymous cry for help.<br />
<br />
I pray to be better. Please.Ahmad xiv Tanjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173036074548909713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217752147544231397.post-5209269136837770442020-01-29T03:07:00.001-08:002020-01-29T06:52:57.397-08:00CURTAIN CALL<div>I don't trust my feelings.<br></div><div><div id="m#msg-a:r-1144790768914814800" class="mail-message expanded"><div class="mail-message-content collapsible zoom-normal mail-show-images "><div class="clear"><div dir="ltr"><br>Sometimes I question if what I am feeling is all for show.<br>Blame it on me for being a romantic. Blame it on me for loving theater.</div><div dir="ltr"><br>I look at each chapter of life -from the quarrels to the make up- as one big narrative that needs the perfect lines. </div><div dir="ltr">I still do.</div><div dir="ltr"><br>Why waste the perfect pause when the moment calls for it?<br>Why not blow the perfect kiss if the timing is right?<br><br>I found you to be my favorite actress.</div><div dir="ltr"><br>And I molded us as the perfect loveteam that we can sell to the world, worthy of the frenzy and curiousity.<br>We didn't mind the attention, to be honest.<div><br></div><div>We even have an interesting backstory that may pass as a classic.<br>You have your own tale you want to be highlighted, <br>but oh, the reel wasn't enough.<br>My god, I didn't even notice what you were reciting at times.<div>It must have been a monologue for a quite a while. </div><br>We peeled our skin little by little to reveal us as fragile beings;<br>and realized that these roles</div><div>are concepts we enjoyed playing.</div><div><div><br>It wasn't that bad; don't get me wrong. </div><div>Our madness can't be captured wholly on a peephole, but it was pretty most of the time. </div><div>We were proud of that. </div><div><br>Friends and family of yours caught a glimpse and pass judgment<br>as cruel as those self-proclaimed experts in Rotten Tomatoes. Spectators will settle on whatever is headlines-worthy in our world, you see. </div><div><br>Who can blame them?<br>I just know we were happy. Contented.<br><br>Then again</div><div>I never trusted my feelings.</div><div><br>Then last night, I cried loudly.<br>Broke down harder that usual. </div><div>Lost myself</div><div>On the edge of sanity<br>Without an audience for my performance.</div><div><br></div><div>Just this montage on my head for lost opportunities<br>of things left unsaid<br>and promises left undone.<br><br>Only now did I feel that I am real.</div><div><br></div><div>that WE are real.<br><br>were</div></div><div><br></div></div></div></div><div class="mail-message-footer spacer collapsible"></div></div></div>Ahmad xiv Tanjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173036074548909713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217752147544231397.post-6920874931034139672019-11-18T20:52:00.001-08:002019-11-18T20:52:52.805-08:00THE LUCK OF LACK<p dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-74880400-7fff-b283-36e0-12631194c0b1">I cry when I do certain acts of kindness to anyone. I get overwhelmed by the intensity of the act that I can't even pretend to show that it is not a big thing.</p><p dir="ltr">Maybe because I am naturally a cruel bitter person.</p><p dir="ltr">I have been crying my hearts out every 3am in the morning about nothing. 3 nights in a row. Just this loooming emptiness that I can't figure out. </p><p dir="ltr">Last night, Vishnu stared at me with a seemingly curious but loving expression that I burst out crying.</p><p dir="ltr">I am that fractured.</p><p dir="ltr">What do I need? </p><p dir="ltr">Whenever i think of therapy, I can't even imagine what to tell the concerned person because I already know the questions and corresponding answers</p><p dir="ltr"> so what's the use?</p><p dir="ltr">It is the lack of real friendship in my life.</p><p dir="ltr">It is the lack of forgiveness in my part for myself.</p><p dir="ltr">it is the resentment of not being the best in every situation</p><p dir="ltr">and just regretting what I said or did.</p><p dir="ltr">It is the shame of my angry outbursts against my loved ones.</p><p dir="ltr">it is the lack of creative expression in my art that is making me think I am not as good as I thought I was.</p><p dir="ltr">It is the suddent realization that my kids are growing up without me</p><p dir="ltr">and the fear that they won't need me in my life.</p><p dir="ltr">It is the lack of resources in my arsenal to make Mawhi stay. </p><p dir="ltr">It is the lack of God.</p>Ahmad xiv Tanjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00173036074548909713noreply@blogger.com0