I got lost in the song. Somewhere there.

Beautiful and Bittersweet Honesty: Chris Medina with The Script's "Breakeven"

Chris Medina was one of the American Idol 2011 hopefuls in Milwaukee. He was an ordinary-looking guy but, I find him to be one with an extraordinary heart. When he first walked into the room, I knew he had a story to tell, thanks to the sudden change of background music (from upbeat to a poignant melody) and from Ryan Seacrest's introduction. Another one of their usual sad stories, I thought.

I was wrong, however. His was not the usual sad story, played up to beg for television watchers' sympathy from all over the world. Chris did not cry while telling his story. He did not even hiccup. Yes, his tone was somber but he had this air of quiet dignity and he seemed like he resigned himself to his chosen fate - willingly. Knowingly. It seemed as if he knew he wouldn't be happy doing otherwise.

My heart went out to him and his girlfriend, Juliana Ramos. Though people played clips of his audition over and over again, posting it in their Facebook walls, emailing everybody they can think of, I chose not to click Play again. I didn't have to. Honestly, I had only seen his audition part once - on T.V. I knew I couldn't bear watching it again, not because it was sappy or what, but because I knew his story by heart already. 

Until now, I can hear his song, his rendition of "Breakeven". The song, for me encapsulated the pain of breaking up and how one heart suffers more than the other. If I can juxtapose the lyrics to Chris' and Juliana's circumstances, the result of the juxtaposition would be very moving. Although the couple did not, in fact, break up, I could imagine the pain both are feeling: Chris may feel helpless, seeing Juliana in such a state. Juliana may feel that she is holding Chris back. The lyrics of "Breakeven" is beautiful and straightforward, just as how I perceive Chris to be.

I can remember how Juliana's' shoulders shook as she found out her boyfriend got a golden ticket and how devoted Chris was (and still is) to her.

I remember. And hopefully, I will take the memory with me until I myself wither away. I hope to share Chris' story with others and warm a heart or two. 

Chris and Juliana are two people who give us all hope. Their story shows us that there is still such a thing as unconditional love in this world.

Chris Medina and Juliana Ramos
(Picture courtesy of Juliana's facebook group page "For Juliana".)

Now, I share with you an article written by RX 93.1 jock, Chico Garcia, in his blog yesterday, 30 January 2011. For the article itself, you can visit http://chicogarcia.wordpress.com/.

"Chris Medina"

I know his story has already been bled dry in the media, but there’s something about his story that really hit home for me. It’s safe to say that I already know when a segment in American Idol is about to pull the emotional strings like a puppeteer would his marionette. The sappy maudlin melody comes in, the camera shots are in slow motion, and you know they’re about to highlight a part of the contestant’s story to tug at your heart strings. Maybe it’s a sick baby or relative, or a rejected child out for his parent’s approval, or a dead loved one, anything at all to elicit a tear or two. Although this segment had all the hallmarks of the usual Idol sob story, something about Chris’ story rang genuinely clarion. Here was the guy walking the walk even before he had the chance to talk the talk. Everyone makes their wedding vows with such determination and conviction, only to flout some of the most basic like fidelity, for instance. And here comes a guy who stood by his girl, even if on the surface, she’s but a shell of her former self. Their ordeal is tough to watch in a less than 5 minute segment, but these people are permanent residents in the story we merely visited.

Isn’t this what we’re all looking for? Stripped of the romance and the fairytale embellishments and the wine and roses, you look for someone who’d walk down the road of life with you. Not just in those grand gestures, but in the everyday grind, and especially during the moments of ugliness and despair. They showed a video of his proposal to her (I think she worked for Starbucks) with videos and lights flashing from cameras. Nice, right? But he was also there for her when no one was there to witness, to celebrate, to commiserate. I’m sure there were many times when it was just him and her, or at least what seemed like what was left of her, and he stayed.

When old couples say that the fiery storm of passion will eventually die and will be replaced instead by much smaller, much quieter steady flame, many singles protest, insisting they want a relationship that will rage on for the rest of their union. It’s hard to explain how it’s not the same, but it’s not necessarily less. Arguably it’s superior on many counts. Ask your parents (if they’re in a successful long-term marriage) or any couple who’ve survived the ravages of the years, and you’ll get the same sentiment. It’s this quiet simmer that makes you stay when all the attractive raiment have been stripped away, when all is left is the barest of souls, the very essence of the person you’ve chosen to love. So it wouldn’t matter if they’re older, or uglier, or fatter, or sick, or disabled, or a mere shadow of their former glorious selves, it doesn’t matter because what you love is beyond reach of the unkind years. It would be untouched by age or disease.

It makes me wax philosophical because he lives what many merely aspire for. We get to eat popcorn as we watch his tale like a movie, and when it’s done, we go back to our lives, none the worse for wear. They on the other hand, don’t get to leave; they are the movie. And when Chris finally sang his audition piece, it was the coup de grace. He sang The Script’s “Breakeven”. Of course the song was about how, in break-ups, hearts don’t break even. But Chris singing it brings it to a whole new level. In their situation, their hearts don’t break even as well. His heart breaks seeing what his loved one is going through. His heart breaks not knowing if he’ll ever get back the version of the girl he’s loved with all his heart. His heart breaks choosing between another less complicated life and staying because he can’t leave when she needs him the most. Her heart breaks putting her man through all this. Her heart breaks seeing the difficulty he’s going though as he puts up with challenges in her life. Her heart breaks thinking if she’s depriving him of a happier life elsewhere.

You can tell it hit a raw nerve. It’s the aspect of love at it’s most unattractive, but at the same time it’s love at it’s most unadulterated. I don’t know if Chris will coast to the finals on the wings of his story, but his tale will stick with me for a long time. If I can do that for someone, or if I’ve found someone who’ll do that for me, I’d consider myself mighty blessed.
__________


My fellow blogger, Jenesaisquoi of http://passingmoment.blogspot.com/, has the following take on this:


         "Yeah the love story, real life "fairy(?) tale is indeed quite an exquisite picture to imagine. A good dose for all the hopefuls (aren't we all? or maybe it's just me). I searched through my comment in one of [Nicona]'s entries [in her blog http://kstwilightzone.blogspot.com/], and since the thought (or my take that is) still has not changed on the matter, here goes-
     'i like the idea of falling in love. falling in love however is different from being in a relationship.
         'but of course we do love dramas, well preferably those with happy endings or witty lines to go with them.
        i guess we wouldn't really be able to know how beautiful our own love stories can be, in real life - because simply, they're not fiction. or that, we are too glued to finding fiction (or the ones we read in fiction? or the ones we think others share and we dont'? [sic]) in real life.'
     "If I may add, I'm all for love (like songs go), but I don't think it's like putting up with the mediocrity of relationships if we think we are not having the kind of relationship we idealized. If truly, love is there, we strive to make our relationship ideal, and in the process - appreciate and - idealized what we have. Our own version of sacrifices - petty fights including - are comparable to those in [Nicona]'s kdramas. Or maybe it's just me talking :)"


[Blog/bloggers' references and translation supplied.]

Socially inept and lost

Socially awkward is not something my friends would describe me. When I told them I thought of myself as such, they would either throw their heads back with laughter or vehemently insist I was wrong. But, seriously, I am.

I can do small talk, yes. But after 10 minutes, I'd start to doze off (while keeping both my eyes at least partially open). Sometimes, I tend to just count the pores on the other person's nose - which is not very helpful in my effort to carry on with the conversation. Those are practically the beat things I could do. Oftentimes, I would blurt out a taboo line, an exaggerated statement, or something utterly senseless - with no ill intentions, no. But only with the desire to keep the other person interested with our little chat or with me.

Oftentimes, specially in big groups, I just listen just so I can save face. When the group is composed of girls, I'm on my guard. Girls tend to dislike me. I can honestly say I understand them.

I would dislike myself if I weren't, well, me.

**************************************

It just occurred to me that if I'd eve figure in an accident, the police will have a hard time contacting the people who are supposed to be contacted and get the message across. If not that, well, at least I would have a hard time getting someone to come to my bedside - in the hospital or in the morgue.

In IDs, there's usually a slot where we'd put the person to be contacted in case of emergency. I usually put my father's details there. But while ahowering, I realized that if my father treats every call as he would treat mine - meaning, he wouldn't answer unless it's the person he would like to talk to at that moment, then I'd be waiting forever for the police to be able to inform him of my situation.

My cousin, the academician,and my niece, the dear one, would rush if ever they'd get the call but why would I inconvenience them with the designation? Plus, they have their own families to worry about. I'm just an extension of 'family', just another member of the clan. (Weirdly, this sentence led me to sing "just another woman in love, a kid out of school, lalalala" in my head.)

I would want to put the boy there but he would ask me why. And he'd say no. And he would not like the idea. (COMMENT MADE ON 2 MARCH 2010: I told him and it was okay. I think he loved the idea, even. Yay for me!)

Plus, I'm not sure if I'd even have a boy with me tomorrow or next week or next month, at least. As revealed above, I am senseless and awkward. Nobody would want that.

So I have to find somebody who will actually be there and who wouldn't grumble about the bother and whome I can pay back someday w/o any fear of actually hearing the favor done for me recounted to elicit guilt. I have to find aomeone who will not be thoroughly inconvenienced as, say, he/ she would have to catch a cab and pay expenses using the teeniest bit of savings he/she has.

But then, why would I want to inconvenience my friends when they have own lives? I wouldn't.

Maybe I should just leave that parf of the ID blank and go through the emergency alone, piting myself for being alone - if I would have the capacity or the conciousness to do so. Or maybe I could put my housenumber there and pray that my staff would be able to catch the words of the police and vice versa.

Bahala na.

*************************************

People talk down to other people when the latter permit the former to. I joine the latter group. I'm weak and spineless. Apologetic is my middle name and I apologize for everything imaginable.

As all this is my fault, I shouldn't be blaming other people for making me feel small. I am small. I should just accept my fate and keep my silence. I'm tired.

Now, I'm hoping for numbness to finally take me in.

I need want you now!

Browsing through the Net, I came across an article in theberry.com, which provided some pictures of interesting things that are "want-able"(desirable doesn't really fit), so to speak, but aren't exactly necessary. I couldn't help but ooh and aah over some things. If I had more than a fair share of resources, I'd definitely get the following:

And then I'd put golden eggs in the nest! Weee!

I hope they have some kind of a lock or a mechanism which prevents the two pieces from separating no matter how  much you squirm (or something) while lying on it. 

But I guess I'd have to spray alcohol or hand sanitizer on these hands all the time...

What? No "beau-tea"?

These benches will not just modernize the home but give it an environmental feel too!

I see a very loud-mouthed man who loves sweets.

And your ass will leave a permanent imprint.

These socks are made for walking, baby.

(NOTE: Pictures courtesy of www.theberry.com.)

Dog days are here.

My dog is very sick
I called the doctor very quick.
"Doctor, doctor, will he die?"
"He may, my darling, so go on and cry."

Crossing my fingers that he will recover, live, and be healthy 'til old age takes him away to Doggie Heaven.

(Note: 3 month old Beagle pup has been vomiting since Sunday night. The vet has checked him and has provided proper medicines and food, as well as dextrose water, for him. I was told to just support him every step of the way and pray hard that he will respond positively to the medication.)

Stargirl

There are days when I make do with what I can get my hands on, may it be a new book, an old one, a new show, an I-don't-know'how-long-it-has-been-there show, an old habit, a bad habit... And then are those days - when you discover something that changes you, either in a way or in every way.

A day which exemplifies the latter was the day I finally decided to read "Stargirl", which had been sitting unopened in my iPad for weeks now. 

First few pages of "Stargirl" and I thought, "Well, this girl must be Sagittarius." And that's when I finally, finally appreciated the said astrological sign (by the way, when I first learned that the inclusion of a 13th astrological sign in the zodiac squad would result into my relinquishing my sea goat hooves and donning the lower body of a horse, I was mortified. Ready to curse the 13th sign - which I could not pronounce, much less remember - to oblivion. Prepared to swear off the Philippine Star's daily horoscope entirely. Well, not really, but you have to see what I mean.).

Stargirl. Susan. No, not Susan. She was never Susan nor Julia nor Ms. Caraway. She was Stargirl, and she made laughter so liberating and freedom, such a prize. And she made me realized I haven't been seeing the world at all; I have just been looking forward and going about it - not seeing, just looking straight at how I would like my days to end up. 

I have forgotten to stop and smell the flowers - both literally and figuratively. It has just been a go-go-go ride. And it has been awful, though I had learned, since long ago, to dim the belching capacity this routine/life (whatever it is) has and just go with the verbal garbage and monstrous traffic, with the indifference and callous responses. 

I didn't even bathe in the rain anymore, much less perform a dance number while it was storming - largely due to the press releases on the harmful toxins rain carries and the number of diseases you get if you wade through the puddles. 

Suffice to say, "Stargirl" and Stargirl, herself, were welcome respites. 

 And, now, I share some of the lines therein with you:

"In that moonlit hour, I acquired a sense of the otherness of things. I liked the feeling the moonlight gave me, as if it wasn't the opposite of day, but its underside, its private side, when the fabulous purred on my snow-white sheet like some dark catacome in from the desert."

"She was illusive. She was today. She was tomorrow. She was the faintest scent of a cactus flower, the flitting shadow of an elf owl. We did not know what to make of her. In our minds we tried to pin her to a corkboard like a butterfly, but the pin merely went through and away she flew." 

"When a stargirl cries, she sheds not tears but light." 

“Nothing’s more fun than being carried away.”

"The trouble with miracles is, they don't last long." 

"You’ll know her more by your questions than by her answers. Keep looking at her long enough. One day you might see someone you know." 

"The earth is speaking to us, but we can't hear because of all the racket our senses are making. Sometimes we need to erase them, erase our senses. Then - maybe - the earth will touch us. The universe will speak. The stars will whisper." 

"She was bendable light: she shone around every corner of my day." 

"She might be pointing to a doorway, or a person, or the sky. But such things were so common to my eyes, so undistinguished, that they would register as "nothing" I walked in a gray world of nothing." 

"“You know, there’s a place we all inhabit, but we don’t much think about it, we’re scarcely conscious of it, and it lasts for less than a minute a day….It's in the morning, for most of us. It's that time, those few seconds when we're coming out of sleep but we're not really awake yet. For those few seconds we're something more primitive than what we are about to become. We have just slept the sleep of out most distant ancestors, and something of them and their world still clings to us. For those few moments we are unformed, uncivilized. We are not the people we know as ourselves, but creatures more in tune with a tree than a keyboard. We are untitled, unnamed, natural, suspended between was and will be, the tadpole before the frog, the worm before the butterfly. We are for a few brief moments, anything and everything we could be. And then...and then -- ah -- we open our eyes and the day is before us and ... we become ourselves." 

“I’m erased. I’m gone. I’m nothing. And then the world is free to flow into me like water into an empty bowl…. And… I see. I hear. But not with eyes and ears. I’m not outside my world anymore, and I’m not really inside it either. The thing is, there’s no difference between me and the universe. The boundary is gone. I am it and it is me. I am a stone, a cactus thorn. I am rain. I like that most of all, being rain.”

Curvaceous on Twitpic

Curvaceous on Twitpic


My friend's guitar.