Tag Archives: lonely

Self-Diagnosis: Pre-Loneliness Loneliness

Must be the Nilagang Baka (boiled beef) but there are swirling, sloth-like dark clouds inside my cranium today. I’d be lucky if that means a storm is coming because right now, at this very moment, I want a nerve-wracking thunder storm, a near-life experience as Tyler Durden used to say. Maybe another shot at EK’s Space Shuttle or a chance to dance dirty in the middle of a club — not like I’ve ever done that — but something that will feel real, something that will smell real again.

Of course I’m kidding myself if I attribute all of it to the Nilagang Baka. Obviously, the diagnosis should be what I would call a Pre-loneliness Loneliness (PLL). The root cause is the plunging levels of endorphins as your mind anticipates a gray future approaching slowly but surely. Symptoms include staring blankly at the computer screen, a natural reflex to avoid work, listening to a repetitive playlist that drives home a certain feeling, and a positive revulsion for the future. I am experiencing all of these now. I am suffering from a self-developed, self-diagnosed, and self-perpatuated disease. PLL is killing me.

In about three to five months after that plane carrying Chemae heads for Neverland, people won’t recognise me. I’ll tell them “I’m Marvin” but they would perceive an obvious change in my demeanor, like my upper lip is constantly quivering, or my fingers are twitching too much. They’d look at me suspiciously, like I’m an impostor. I’ll probably be scruffy with thick and oily facial hair reminiscent of Pacquiao when he pummelled Clottey last March. Except unlike Pacquiao, people won’t be delighted to see me at all. They would think I am a good tap on the shoulder away from incurable insanity. Continue reading

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I Miss You

This is my life before we got together. I don’t know it anymore. Thinking back to how I got here in the office from the moment I struggled to get off the sheets at home, I can’t imagine how I lived before I met her. I must have been a zombie or a piece of deadwood kicked around by strangers’ feet. I really don’t know. It’s almost as if I helplessly fall asleep and get lost in dreamland whenever she goes away. Continue reading

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The Loneliness in Writing

Writing has a way of releasing your emotions but it also has a way of eating you up.

When I was in college, I would write uncontrollably. I wrote notes or short poems during classes, I wrote when I was alone in the library, in an empty classroom, under a tree, in the Sunken Garden, in the lagoon; I wrote in my head when I’m with other people, and I wrote at night before I sleep. I was writing because it was all I could do to reach out and feel the world. Continue reading

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Life is Grey Without Her


Life is grey without her. Walking is exhausting without her. I stepped out of our house this morning, tried to welcome the day half-smiling but I knew even then that those hours were disposable. Their only value lies in the fact that they might be bringing me closer to her. And so with time decaying with such little significance, my only comfort is to think that life has gone with her, wherever she is. Right now, at this very moment, she is sprinkling life on every stranger, every road sign, every pebble, every ray of sunshine fortunate enough to witness her smile.

My polo shirt feels different without her, as well as my Chucks, my jeans, and my worn-out socks. Maybe they want to slip out of my body to run away after her. They can’t be blamed for that. After all, my clothes know very well that they don’t have much importance to the universe until she takes them off.

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