zhinesade's surreal world

everything about nothing

Saturday, April 30, 2005

Before the First of May

I've seen Kitchie.

I've watched Nina.

We've been to Island Cove and back.

All before the first of May.

Dizzying hunger.

Hunger for tears.

Moaning nothingness.

I went out and partied last night.

Can't believe I could still dance for hours like that.

And let go.

And just

Monday, April 18, 2005

How to Start Again

If you reel in sorrow, how do you begin to look out and remember to see the good again?

This blog has Che's memories in bits and pieces. How do I overcome her loss soon enough to keep my own creativity and emotions flowing?

I'm watching Kitchie tomorrow, and Nina on Wednesday. Hopefully, that'll get me through.

Besides, it seems impolite to just jump to another topic after my letter to Che.

So here we go. One small step for me. One big step for.....me.

Tuesday, April 05, 2005

Goodnight, Che

For the first time in the history of this blog, I am in need of words, but words escape me.

Che was literally the sweetest and nicest person I had ever met in all of my 26 years. She was human, but she was a goddess I her own childlike way. If you knew her, you’d agree with me completely.

Her smile clings to my mind now, like carnations in full bloom. Our ‘theme song’ for the winter season, her pout when she was hungry and salivating while we were on our way to new and favorite food experiences, her admitting to loving Kitchie and Nina’s music as much as I did(hindi sila jolog haha), the road trips, the Cosi Tuesdays, the jokes, the ‘hirits’, the pink socks, the sleeveless shirts, that packing night, the food, the photo-ops, the drinking, the New Orleans experience, the planned ‘school’ overnight this coming Saturday, that cheer, that smile.

I can’t explain it, words don’t seem to justify. She was colorful but she was pure. She was simple but she was lovely. She was child-like, but she was all-woman.

Oh, Che.

Now, who’s going to bug me about my blog not being updated? Who’s going to tell me again and again that people can relate to what I write? Who’s going to tell me I’m a ‘gentlewoman’?

I will miss you dearly, Che. We’ll all miss you very much --- Degu, Cha, Poch, Melvin, Mads, Miggy, Hensy, and me. But our tears are tears of selfishness, because your presence was most deeply appreciated. I know you are in your heaven now, right where you belong, with the pink socks, and the table filled with food, probably.

And don’t you worry, we promise to try and do everything on that list of to-do’s we made. And I heard about the yahoogroups you wanted to make for us too. So yes, we’ll probably take you up on the name --- Hot Onshore Peeps.

Goodnight, Che. I know I’ll see you again in God's time. In the meantime, we’ll try to light the world with the smile you infected us with.

And that driver. Don’t worry, we don’t hate him. Oo nga, salbahe sya, Che. But I know you forgive him. So I forgive him too.

I’ll watch Kitchie and Nina for you na lang. I’m sure you’ll be right there with me.

Oh, and in case I never got around to telling you...I'm really glad we became friends.

Friday, April 01, 2005

At Rest

I need to take a breather, with so many things happening all at the same time. So here I am, back in cyberspace, talking to myself (or to you, depending on which perspective you care to take) and trying to get myself in a state of vegetative relaxation on a Friday night. Note, this is a very hard task to accomplish precisely BECAUSE it is a Friday night.

But I will persevere. Because my mind needs it. One month of no RESET-button pushing, and I find myself overly stressed over the simplest of complications.

Hark, however, to my artistic side. It has been coming out, slowly but surely, and at the moment, I can declare that my left and right brain are functioning in harmony and equal spurts.

I'm sure some will scoff and some will disagree, but this is how I see it. And I won't push that backspace button to make you happy. Screw you. Ahem. I'm fine.

Hahaha, see that's the stressed-out me waterfalling down to the tiniest voice in my head. Maybe I need a drink.

I'm beginning to think there's a schizophrenic part of me. Sigh. Maybe that's the reason for the "zhinesade" name, different from my real nickname (which is, incidentally, very different from my real one).

ANYWAY...back to the ME you all know for a few secs. Here's a few braincells for chewing on:

Tick-tock, sounded the clock. She waits with eyes closed, willing the time to stop, for once in her life. She waits for a call that will never come. She had asked her son-in-law to give her daughter the message. He either forgot to tell Tanya, or she didn't care.
"Please God, give me the patience and strength to wait", she pled.

Two days later, she was gone. And Tanya was nowhere to be found.

Rising up from what seemed to be an empty church, she thought, "but I thought you said children always came back to their mothers?"
From where she saw the approaching comforting blue light, someone seemed to say, "Yes, but WHEN they come back is something only you will know in time".

She sighed, hope draining out of her, the light moving farther away, the darkness, slowly closing in on her. It was her fault, she knew. She never uttered the right words. Was never able to humble herself. How could her daughter forgive her? How could her daughter believe she meant it that last time?
And for what seemed like an eternity of an earthen minute, she wept for her daughter, for the mother she should've been to her, for the family she deserved and never got, for the childhood she lost.

Suddenly, she heard a voice. "Don't cry, ma. I'm right here. There's nothing to be worried about."

It was Tanya.

"But...but...I'm still alive?"

"I came here before you did, ma. I passed through here right after you called Pete. I sped to your house as soon as Pete told me your message. I somehow drove my car straight into nothingness, and then this," she said smiling.

Once again, Tanya was 8 and her mother was beautiful and young. Her mother didn't know what to say. Tanya was 8 when she started getting into the wrong habit, which led her to slide away from the family she loved. This can't be real, she thought.
"Let's go, ma," said Tanya in her adorable little voice, eyes wide and expectant, disrupting her mother's thoughts.
"Where, baby?"
"You know where," Tanya replied.

They walked toward the expansive blue, swaying their intertwined hands as they went, Tanya giggling, and her mother looking content.

All was well for a moment.

And then twins were born.