I hate being put into a box - even if that box comes with receiving special treatment and extra attention.

Although I am aware of my predicament, I do not find the need to limit myself to what I "can" and "cannot" do just because. Unfortunately, my father doesn't see this the same way I do. I can't blame him for being cautious. I know he's just looking out for me. After all, I am a daddy's girl. But never in my life has he stopped me from doing something I'm passionate about and given me lame excuses in the lines of "You're not ready" or "You're just not capable." It hurts me to hear that because through it - words alone as it may seem - I am put into a marked box that reads "FRAGILE" which could've been labeled more easily with a big sticker on it reading "INUTIL."

No. Papa has never called me that. But unconsciously and indirectly, he has. That's how I take it anyway. To most people, such understanding and concern may be taken with open arms and milked for all its worth - but not me. I hate being given "special treatment" (special=abnormal just as how abnormality is often labled as "special" in proper society). It's a form of hypocrisy that I totally abhor.

You must be wondering why I'm blabbering for all my vocabulary's worth. I'm actually a bit embarrassed and I'm doubting the reason of why I even wrote this in the first place. But since I've come this far (three paragraphs and counting) I might as well tell you kung anong pinuputok ng butsi ko.

If you're a constant reader of my perpetually updated (with nonesense) blog, you must've read about my plan of going to Kathmandu in September. Mama has already agreed and I thought Papa would be even easier to convince since he's also an avid traveler. Enk! Wrong. It came as unexpected to me as ketchup on ice cream - and that's what broke my heart. I thought he could find it in himself to let me go and let me pursue my plans. I thought he would let me do what I have to do in lieu of professional therapy (not that I ever needed any but that's beside the point). I thought wrong. He didn't think I could handle traveling in high altitudes since Kathmandu is on a valley between soaring mountain ranges. Add to that, the fact that Nepal is beyond underdeveloped and immediate premium medical facilities aren't readily available. Baka matuluyan pa raw ang isa kong mata. I know his reasons make sense but he's depriving me of something I'm passionate about and it SUCKS.

I have never been bitter about what happened to me. I have felt a bit depressed-of-sort. A bit lonely. A bit regretful. But never bitter. I take life as it comes and when (sorry for the cliche) life gives me lemons, I try to make the best lemon meringue pie this side of DC. But THIS kind of disappointment, I can't take. Okay, maybe I can, but this has made me a bit (teeny tiny bit) bitter about everything. Because I feel most like a failure when I can't do anything about being limited to what I can and cannot do. It's like being put into a straightjacket and locked up in a big white room, hearing only my screams and its resounding echoes.

But then again, just like how plans can crash and burn, one can easily build them again. And that's what I intend to do. In the meantime, I try to enjoy what I'm "allowed" to pursue and make the most out of what I'm blessed with. After all, a second chance at life is a gift not all people are given. I thank God for it everyday. Maybe I do forget sometimes, but in my heart, God knows I'm thankful. I hold on to him to better myself each day - to make this life more meaningful than what I've ever had before.

My father has taught me well for me to understand that I can't have it all. The loss of vision in my left eye and the countless scars on my previously flawless face is more than enough proof of that. But setbacks shouldn't be permanent. Even if I'm put into a box today, I know it's for my own good. And when I come out, I know I'll be a better person. Because after all, it is when you're alone and bound, can you then hear the core of your voice, your words, and your dreams - and how much you really want it and how hard you're willing to persevere to get it. Like a phoenix from the ashes, you come out stronger, and your light shines more brightly that it ever has.

x Kat x 

Yes, you read that right.

(RANT extra: It's frustrating to think that I never even drank alcohol that night. It sucks. How the f*ck could this have happened to me when I have done nothing wrong?? I wasn't even driving for crying out loud! Tanginaaa!)

Now, on to the serious stuff..

I thought I could do without crying. I've always thought crying's for babies. Guess not. When the accident happened last December, I NEVER cried. Ok, once. But just once - and that was because I was afraid my mom would get mad at me for being in a car accident (and getting a police record), dammit! But during my entire stay at the hospital - 3 days in the ICU, 2 major operations and 3 days on a friggin' hospital bed - I never EVER cried. Although I admired how people would call me brave, I really didn't believe it. "Yeah right", I thought. I wasn't being brave. I was just trying to cover up the pain. but now I realize, being brave isn't just about veing immune to any feeling of pain. It's more about knowing how to handle whatever life hands you. And I believe, I have done pretty well in that department. ;)

It's shocking to some people how I can still manage to laugh and make fun of myself after everything that has happened. Deep inside, I can honestly say that I never felt like screaming and blaming other people for my misery. I may have wanted to cry, but I never felt any significant need to do so. God was with me the entire time. God has helped me get throught it all. I don't want to fall into that cliche but I have no other way of explaining it. Without his presence in me, I would have probably gagged Mikee to death and bawled my eyes out until my left eye fell off. But no. I have never felt any indifference towards him - or myself, for that matter. Even I, find it odd, but I figure that's how God works. We may not always get what we want or what we expect of Him. But in the end, He still manages to make everything okay - in His own way. My eye may not be "okay" in the norm's general understanding of what "okay" is, but "I" am okay because I am at peace with myself and I hold no hatred in my heart.  

Altough I have regrets over what could have been done earlier to save my eye, it's useless to keep mulling over something that can't be helped anymore. Besides, it would have been impossible to send me to Singpore immediately for retinal reattachment surgery because I was still in the ICU theree days after the accident (heck the doctors here probably don't even know what retinal reattachment surgery is!). Although I cannot say that I am completely at peace with that fact, and as much as I would want to bring back time, I'd rather not keep hammering myself for it. I'd rather busy myself with the present and plans for the future. 

This may sound absurd to some, but in a way, I even feel like I've been given a blessing - a rare honor to serve as a purpose for others. Now, others can learn from what happened to me, and maybe - just maybe - even serve as an inspiration-of-sort. I am not perfect and I've done more than my share of bullsh*t in life, but now, I can be proud of what I've been through. Now, I can proudly say I've been to HELL and back. I've come full circle. Ok, maybe not quite yet, but I'm almost there. ;-)  

x Kat x

P.S. In anything that you go through, always remember that God won't give you anything you can't handle. Step up to the plate and show your worth, your strength, and your desire to keep on living, just as I have.

9. I get a kick out of eating hawker "fishballs." You know, the kind that doesn't even taste like fish at all. I think it should be more aptly named as "doughballs." But still, those brown-ish doughballs with specks of ground pepper fried to a crisp golden perfection then paired with the perfect sweet sauce make for the perfect "nostalgic" snack. Reminds me of grade school days when it was a feat to get this snack outside school. We were prohibited from buying "dirty" food outside -and that included dirty ice cream, another favorite of mine. I've always thought the school was just trying to sell their overpriced food at the canteen (Php20 for a small plate of spaghetti back in 1997?!). Ha! I'd rather have Manong's hot fishballs (that don't taste like fish) any day! ;-)

10. I'm a paper-smeller! love smelling paper. I don't know though if this is another impulsive disorder of mine. But I really, really love smelling paper! My favorites are Metro Society magaizne, Arthur Frommer's Smart Shopping magazine, Reader's Digest, old 1970s Madame Wong's Long-Life Chinese Cookbook (see picture below)), a 19th century set of "Voltaire" comprising of several volumes (from my great-grandfather), vintage Cosmopolitan magazines from the early 80s, The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini, and a summer 2000 Victoria's Secret catalog I ordered on the internet for free ( I never bought anything though. Haha!). Books, magazines, yellow paper, intermediate paper, coupon bond, notebooks, new, old, archaic - name it, I've smelt it! How's that for wierd?

Now let's see someone beat this list! Hahaha!

I tag everyone! Let's help spread the weirdness people! ;-)

x Kat x

"When you've got nothin', you've got nothin' to lose."

- Jack Dawson, Titanic 1997

Sooo Titanic-esque, I know. But no, I'm not in a nostalgic mood of any kind. It just so happened that while watching Titanic on VCD earlier today, that line struck me like a ton of bricks. It made wonder, is my relationship (I don't want to elaborate on this anymore than I already have in previous entries) still worth saving (for the nth time)? To be honest, I spend more time wondering and contemplating on what to do with the relationship (whether or not I should break it off or not yadda yadda) rather tahn enjoying the time I have with that person. For months, I wasn't able to get that through my thick head. I kept doing the same thing over and over again, but it never really got into me. I never let it in (another one of Titanic's many quotable quotes). Everything stayed at the surface like oil on water. Then I began to think, and really thuink. Maybe we're like oil and water as well. We're not meant to mix. No matter how hard we try, a homogenous combination of teh two just can't be possible. We're too different.

By quoting from Titanic, I don't mean to imply that our relationship is worth nothing. It's far from nothing - now. But if I delay this any further, that's what it will probably become. We started off well. We made a commitment for all the right reasons. But I can't say the same now. When you spend more time worrying over problems than enjoying simple pleasures, that has to mean something. It took me a while to realize that, but I have now. And I know what needs to be done.

I'm thankful for the love (it's rare to find the sort I've found with her nowadays) but then again, love isn't all we need to keep teh relationship going. I will always care for her, but I guess it'll have to stop there. Sometimes, loving from a distance is better than being too close for comfort. If we don't stop while we can, we might end up hating each other in the end. And that's the last thing I want to happen.

Love is not just about the mushy stuff. More importantly, it's about growing up in the process of getting to know each other's strengths and weaknesses, triumphs and falls - warts and all. It's about knowing each other's faults and not overlooking mistakes and misunderstandings just so the relationship "can go smoothly as usual." It's about knowing when to let go so individual growth can take place. Realizing that in the end, you're not only looking out for yourself and the pleasure you're getting ffrom having the relationship. More importantly, it's about watching out for that "other half", watching him/her learn, grow, and mature, even if that means no longer being side by side.

x Kat x

P.S. My FIRST SERIOUS ENTRY in a long time...in relation to my previous daily/weekly ramblings. LOL! ;-p

P.P.S. My theme and this particular entry totally clash. Talk about sontaneous coherence. Haha!