Friday, May 09, 2008
12:17 PM |
Darkness and Glimmers
I don't wish for anyone the dark days. But they happen. For me they're constant visitors. Sometimes I fly right through them like a plane would through turbulence, but sometimes they linger like a dark lover. I pinch myself endlessly to break free from its ugly embrace, but it doesn't of course leave at my bidding, and all I have left really is skin pinched to raw redness. I always find my dark days after especially hectic -- or joyful -- episodes in my life. They come without fail. I'd be particularly busy working on some projects for days on end, and when I'd be finally done, there would be that huge sense of relief, followed immediately by a sudden, screaming panic. What now?
I'd ask myself. And then the dark would come to consume me. So, of course, after those beautiful early summer days spent in Baguio and Sagada, and then after that hectic week trying to complete those stories for a certain contest, I sensed myself withdrawing from the world, suddenly feeling very sick (really, really sick
), suddenly feeling very helpless. And sad. So I took my meds. I deposited my cellphone in a secret place. I watched old Audrey Hepburn movies. I caught all
the episodes of the last season of Lost
, watching everything from first to last, nonstop. I commiserated with the wishy-washy weather. I Facebooked endlessly, until it, too, became a blur. I surfed all the cable channels -- my television was on 24 hours a day for several days straight -- and sank deeper into my bed. I sang John Barrowman songs. I tried reading, but couldn't finish anything. I had my meals delivered to my pad. I watched my hamsters go round and round in their wheels. I slept for the most part, endlessly praying that the pain, both physical and emotional, would go away. It's a Friday, and there are some glimmers in the distance, so here's wishing me... something. God? Luck? Happy days? A great cup of coffee?
But this made laugh: Nestor U. Torre earnestly suggesting how to make American Idol better.
Like anybody out there would listen. Paging Nigel Lythgoe! Ha!
 This is Where You Bite the Sandwich