// Guitarchic Dot Net* My Life, One Strum at a Time

It just so happened that I was watching Grey’s Anatomy Season 4’s 5th episode Haunt You Everyday, on the day the whole country’s celebrating All Soul’s Day — the first one where I actually had a Dad (who passed away) to remember.

And it just so happened that for some reason, I’m loving George O’Malley’s character in Season 4. (See what I did there? Notice the segue? Heh.) Anyway, this is, if not the most, one of the most tearjerky speech in the episode for me.

I dont have kids, so i dont know how its like to lose a child but i do know how its like to lose a parent. Your daughter loved you, i saw her this morning, she was fighting for you. She’s fighting for your life. You’re her dad. You’re her dad, she won’t leave you, I know that. I also know that she would want you to have her heart. I would have given my dad my heart if i could. If I could have saved him, I would have given him my heart. ~ George

I felt what George said. I would have given mine to my Dad too, if I had the chance. But okay, let’s save the drama for a later post.

That is, if I get the courage to write one. Sigh.

…I’d light it up, close my eyes, think of home (wherever home is), and fly as far away from here as possible in a heartbeat.

Yvaine, dear Yvaine.. I know how it feels. You wake up from a shallow sleep, and for one moment you wonder where you are and why in the world you’re there. You know you should be in a place where there are no worries, no pain, no fears — yep, that place where all that’s required of you is to shine. But no matter how much you want to go back, deep inside you know that there’s a reason why you are where you are and you have to get through it so you can find your way home.

Image from the movie, Stardust.

So I just woke up from a powernap — one I needed to take because I was feeling tired and stressed and sulky — and these happened to be my first thoughts: stars, babylon candles, pirate ships, and being anywhere but here. (Just lovely, Riz). So much for watching emo films that have the word “star” in them huh. Have I become such a loser? Is there anyone else out there who thinks it’s normal to be feeling the way I do right now? I’m oversensitive. I overanalyze things. I worry about the future. I care so much about expectations. I cry over random things. I want to be anywhere but where I am. I hate myself and I often wish I’m not.. ME. Pretty problematic, huh.

Worse is, I rant endlessly to the boyfriend and the girlfriend about things I cannot change. And sometimes, I become cranky too. Which is weird (and sad) because come to think of it, I’m living a comfortable life, I’m blessed, and I’m loved. At least I know it’s something remotely similar to how she feels. (I’m not alone, yay me!) But I also know that this is beyond PMS or QLC. That this is beyond me. That at one point, this too shall pass, but until then, I need to have the courage and the patience to endure.

Ergo, I try to entertain myself. I think of myself as Yvaine, a star who fell down from heavens. And as I try to figure out how to fly back to the starry skies, someone appears in front of me with a babylon candle. (If you haven’t seen Stardust, the babylon candle allows one to travel wherever he/she wishes. “The fastest way to travel is by candlelight,” Una said.) I can finally fly home.

If only fairy tales are real and I have in my possession one of those babylon candles, I think I know exactly where I want to fly to right now. Three places.

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I remembered her because I happened to have browsed through a local magazine this morning which had a short feature about her. You probably don’t know this girl, but her name is Abigail Breslin, and she’s one of the top child star earners in Hollywood this year (albeit being at a low profile), along with Hillary Duff, Dakota Fanning, and High School Musical’s Vanessa Hudgens.

Her name probably didn’t ring a bell too, so let me help you a bit. She was the adorable little girl named Sarah in Raising Helen, a movie shown in 2004 starred by Kate Hudson. Yup, she was that girl who had a stuffed Hippo, who talked about her nose boogie, and cried over tying her shoe laces.

Three years after, she was the not-so-little-anymore girl named Zoe, who starred with Catherine Zeta Jones at No Reservations. (Which I happened to have watched on the big screen last month). There were more stuffed animals now, and she’s grown, hence, she was more fierce and stubborn and sensitive in this film.

Interestingly, the common thing about Abigail Breslin’s characters, Sarah and Zoe, is that in both movies, she had lost her parents at such a young age. Sarah’s parents died in a car accident at Raising Helen, and Zoe’s mom died also in a car accident at No Reservations.

Funny how she’s always casted for roles like that — lost little girl, trying to get over the death of her parents, starting a whole new life with an aunt who knows little about her, seeking attention in different forms and ways. And dude, she’s played the role well.

Then again, she probably didn’t have to exert too much effort playing that role. I mean, how natural is it to feel lost? Come to think of it, there’s always that lost little girl inside every woman’s heart that is wanting to feel that sense of belongingness, hoping to find someone who will care for her on top of everything else, and seeking that “place” she can call home.

Point is, I envy her. Man. She gets paid millions of dollars playing a role I do so well. Tsk.

QUESTION. What do you do when you get stuck at a train station (I’m tempted to say “subway” to make it sound more posh, but nah, this is Manila, baby), hoping to get in on a train and to your destination, only to end up standing and waiting for an hour because there was just no room in the trains for you to squeeze in? (Typical MRT scenario, I know! :))

ANSWER. You look around, watch people, think, reflect (you know, entertain yourself so that you’ll forget about your growling stomach), you try your best to not start a fight with the girl shoving you to the left, and the other one pushing you to the right, and remain calm. And it probably won’t hurt to write a couple of notes down, yep, even while standing up. Mental notes, after all, don’t stay in the head most of the time. They fly away even before you get the chance to recall them, and then you forget them altogether.

I’m a fan of writing things down. And lists. And bullets. They give me an illusion that my life is in order, that I have specific goals to reach, making me feel a lot better (and less like a mess).

So tonight, that’s kind-of what I did. Me and my moleskine, that’s what we did. So if you happened to be in Boni Avenue station last night, and you saw someone doing a balancing act which involved a black leather-bound notebook and a cheap black pen, well, that was me alright.

It’s kind of weird to be in a reflective mode at a time like that. You see, I spend a minimum of 8 hours each day in my quiet corner in the office, my nose on my macbook, with a mug of hot coffee I sip in between — I’m comfortable, I’m sitting down, and yet my mind is never as restless. Now the one time I spend in a chaotic place like an MRT station, people shoving me left and right, my feet numb from all the standing — and I never felt more at peace.

Reading my scribbles, I find it funny that I mostly wrote about being still. To focus on the more important things when there’s too much to do. To look past the moment when in the verge of an emotional outburst. To not worry when things aren’t going the way they’re planned. To breathe and reboot when tired and weary. To trust when it seems like things aren’t enough. Such thoughts usually don’t come when you’re in a situation like that.

One hour after, I gave up and left the station. I never did get to where I was supposed to go that night. I was charged an additional 15 pesos for overstaying (and I was like, “wuuut??”), but it’s okay. I paid 15 pesos to get in, 15 pesos to get out. I had my moment with myself, and with God. All for the price of 30 pesos.

Or at least I want to think so. But not like it matters, my opinion about this. And not like I have basis for claiming Michael Scofield’s not gay aside from how fine he looks when he’s breaking prisons.

And it’s not like I really know for sure.

So just in case you land on this page (just like hundreds of people all over the world) because you asked Google if “Wentworth Miller is gay”, well, I DON’T KNOW THE ANSWER TO THAT.

Perezhilton says he’s gay though, inspite of all his denials. Go over to his site and judge for yourself okaiii.

But thanks for the traffic anyway. Now back to regular programming. :)