Emergency Room

She is 9 years old but only a few inches shorter than a 25 year old fully grown Southeast Asian. She is Egyptian and a sweet little lady who smiles despite swollen lymph nodes and tonsillitis. 

She looks away but still wears a faint smile as her blood was drawn for analysis. She flinches a little while a tiny bleb was made on her forearm for an antibiotic allergy test. The test results are out so the antibiotic is administered deep in her muscles. She did not make a sound as the needle landed on her, no movement as the two ml of potent fluid spreads, and still she remains motionless after the thin rod of metal is withdrawn. 

Mommy gives her a hug for being a tough girl and Ms. Nurse calls her amazing names for bravery. 

She slowly walks out of the room. Away from everyone to whom she showed her courage, she retreats in a chair where she burts out into tears.

The two ml fluid brought immense pain but she managed to cover it up. Mama had to see her battle the hurt and everybody seemed too proud she did not want them disappointed. 

She had to be brave because little girls are more than just a sweet smile. But someone had to remind her that she can be brave and shed tears at the same time and that she's doing great in holding on to courage, just in case the world forgets she is also made to fight. 

21:00

It is 9 in the evening when she decided to stand just a few inches behind the glass door. But unlike the many nights she had spent looking at the world outside of the four walls she has been spending her days in, tonight is one of the many deja vus she has collected through the years. 

The same convenience store is visible in the corner of the street, the same wrecked cars are parked along the orange brick road, the four date trees are still perfectly aligned just like how she remembered them on February 29 of last year when she first set foot on that parking lot.

She takes a deep breath while trying to fathom how the scent of air was once different and foreign. It could have been in a dream or it could have been in another plane of consciousness she has yet to acknowledge but she knows this evening is exactly how it should be. She loves this kind of moments when fate faintly whispers, "You're doing just fine."

Excerpts from my 50-peso Diary

-2015-
How does humanity do it? Peace is nice and comforting. But sometimes, all I feel is fear. That overwhelming punch in my chest makes things real-death, loss, rejection, failure, loneliness. They're all in here, knocking everything inside my narrowed ribcage. That's more real than peace most days. And reality is what I was trained to believe in.

-6.2016-
I have weird or pathetic thoughts most days. I think everyone does but there's really no way we can tell the intensity of the madness each of us have. Too much whirling and banging going on inside my tiny skull. I had to consciously shut it off most days. I had to do some meditative breathing, chant my scripted pep talks and somersault across my bed for half an hour or more. It's even worse when the buzz comes while I'm basically expected to be civil. How civilized can a gaga be? But there's this bit in my craziness that likes to shout out my love out there- for everyone and for anything. I wanna give my little humans some tight hug even if they end up crying thereafter. I wanna tell everyone to have a good day. I wanna tell grandmas and grandpas that they're adorable and that I'm in love with the wisdom and light that shines through them. I wanna tell all my friends how this day is so much better because we shared some biscuits and tea together.  There's just too much in my chest but  I sometimes end up in silence and my selfishness, insecurities, the need to be "socially normal" take over and the love just goes straight out of the window, poof, gone. It's just me again and my awkward self. #heyneurosishey


-6.2016-
It feels like I had enrolled myself in a 2 year retreat here in Saudi. It's actually a pretty good deal considering I'm getting paid to learn about this life and all my angst. Everybody finds a way to be happy or for the very least, get comfortable in dealing with all the shit that's offered on their plates. It's also interesting how twisted things can be for the sake of finding happiness. 

-1.2017-
She told me that the scent of a pink bar soap brings up the hate out of his betrayal and the memories of the nights that they had cuddled in bed. I told her to just switch to the green dove which is lightly scented by fresh cucumber. For me though, the pink dove scent lets me travel back to my childhood when my mama would lovingly pamper me to bed at night post a warm bath. It brings lots of loving memories. My cousin gifted me a perfume for Christmas of 2013 that smells earthy with a tinge of sweetness and for me, it's the scent of love. It was then that I felt the giddy tweaks in my chest because butterflies were dancing in my stomach and the universe fills with all the amazing possibilities brought about by my love hormones on high. When I smell a musky scent, I think I'm falling in love all over again.

-1.2016-
I'm scared because we are silently scarred by young souls drifting away right in front of us. We are unconsciously weakened by little bodies we carry via canvas just before we take our early morning coffee. We are slowly drifting away from this reality by regrets brimming from the hearts of those that are left behind.

-6.2016-
We are all strange. We are all trying, some are actually battling hard, just to be happy and sane. We are all working on ourselves. But may we try not to hurt those around us while we strive to love this mess. And may we find the courage to take in our pride and apologize when we realize we did. May we be kind enough to offer forgiveness.  

-5.2016-
There are days when you have to force yourself to be happy. In between those days, you might even hate yourself for trying so hard while others seem to have it so easy (they don't). And that's okay. If you have to work hard for just one thing in this lifetime, choose happiness. Struggle for it, learn the tricks, get your bruises, fake it 'til you make it. 

Masters

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Year 2014

People just know better, so YOU, a total sucker and a master of wrong choices must follow their grandiose plan on how to live the life that you have struggled for and gone crazy with. They haven’t seen you on your regular breakdowns and constant monologues. They haven’t seen the confidence that you have built inch by inch. They don’t know how fucking hard you tried to pick yourself up because you’re not doing just enough. HAIL THY MASTERS, BOW DOWN TO THY PERFECT SOCIETY.

Hell

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Year 2014

I’ve struggled to be a good girl because I don’t wanna end up in hell. I struggled because I don’t wanna be good to start with. I feared all the monsters and raging flames they described hell to be. It was fear instead of sanctity most of the time and it still is. Now, I don’t even know if the existence of hell is plausible. I’d rather fear the pitfalls of being alive. There is this thin line between fearing death and being ecstatic of finally knowing what’s there after the last bubble of consciousness bursts. And when I’m at peace with myself, I gracefully embrace the truth that I can be dead now- and that it’s completely okay.

Random Thoughts

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Year 2014 

**You half-heartedly loved her and half-heartedly betrayed her. Her brain is obsessed rationalizing if what emotion outweighs the other.

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**Why do you care so much of how you look? 

“I really won’t mind if only 99% of the people I meet will stop treating women like a fucking beauty pageant.”

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**To that boy; who played a memorable song on his guitar; who gets to line up before or after me for coffee; who have the exact name as to the one who came before him; who shared brief and wordless conversations with me; who doesn’t really know what name to call me. Thank you. You made it easier by just existing. Bless you.

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**I'm happy that I’m less attached to people, things and memories. The lesser and simpler things are, the better. I use lesser words when I write and speak, considering how wordy I used to be. I trimmed down my Facebook friends to almost half and limited my social media accounts to FB and Tumblr. I gave away 80% of what I had in my closet. I can fit all of my personal belongings in a small bag. I can leave the house with only 5 things in my purse- wallet, phone, keys, powder and mirror. I value people in my life but realized I am still going to be okay without them. I stopped over analyzing and made decisions based on my own definition of right and wrong. It’s freeing to know that memories don’t hold you back and things do not define you.

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**I have to write about you and the way you made me feel. I found myself overwhelmed by your presence. I stared at you numerous times with disbelief. The dream-catchers, you talking to cats, the plants, that cup of water, the cigarettes, the stars, the playlists and a fraction of your dreams. I wanted to share stories but alcohol got in the way. I felt you wanted to share a part of your thoughts too, but I am stranger. Two days, I wish it were longer. The mountains, they made everything even better.  "You wanna try?“ I’ve always wanted to. Thank you for the cigarettes.

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**After a year of failed communication, a dear friend told me, “ I hope that something is making you so happy too." And I then wanted to cry hard on the floor.

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**It is in this in between emotional states that you get to sit and analyze what had just happened. Like whoah, those were a shitload of months that went by and guess what, you’re still fucking alive and excited and beautiful and human.

Medical-Surgical Ward

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Year 2014

On their grimaces and weak sighs, burdened coughs and labored breaths, the struggle for life seems too absurd. 

“Look for my medicines.”

The urgency on his tone made it sound like a desperate plea that he doesn’t want to die today… or EVER.

“Please look for my medicines.”

Please save him from his mortality.

Plastered Face

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Year 2014

Looking at your face, my brain goes technical, retrieving memories of us.

Your eyes, I remember how you looked at me with depth when you tried to question me with things, when you tried to challenge my beliefs. I remember the weakness those eyes gave me.

That mole, I often saw it while looking up and you held your head so high, I wondered what’s gonna become of us and thanked the universe that I had you by my side.

That sad smile, the face you had when all the cockiness was put aside and you told me all about your doubts and fears. When you asked for a hug or a hand to hold because you didn’t know what choice to make.

But now, without those memories, you become a harmless stranger, so far away from me and I realize how crazy it is that I allowed the thought of you to move my world.

You become this plastered face on the screen; curved lines, vibrant colors, motionless, meaningless.

Pep Talk

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I am going to stop obsessing about things and people that don’t do me any good. I am going to live in the now and choose love and peace. I am going to go on jogging at least once a week. I am going to swim. I will join Zumba. I am going to save millions and go on a hike before the year ends. I’m gonna learn how to dance. I will strive to eat healthy again now that I have the freedom to buy my own food. I’m gonna own lesser things. I’m gonna draw more mandalas. I’m gonna visit the beach more often. I’m gonna take more risks, count 1-5 and take chances. I’m gonna quit taking shit personally because this life is too huge that I should stop magnifying my ego. And when things get shady, I know they will, I’m gonna remind myself of the exact reason why I chose to go back and fight for this- I love what I do despite it being an energy and spirit sucking profession most days. I’m going to be an active Earth warrior. I’m gonna let the light in me honor the light within those people I meet. Namaste.

Brain

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I personally don’t like drama. Maybe my subconscious likes it, thus, I “unknowingly” attract “tragic encounters” every now and then especially at times when I feel that life is a bore. But with my healthy state of mind, ego clashes and other nasty regression from me or others are a big no-no.

I tried to build a strong sense of self ever since kindergarten because I had to- no one would fight for me then with my mom away from home and my dad living the bachelor’s life. I hated showing my emotions or maybe, I had no reason to feel because I was secluded in my own little world. My childhood sucked but I grew up to be an okay adult and I’m proud of the grumpy little Ronida who managed to pull it off. But sometimes, the grumpy little Ronida pays a visit and I feel like a total asshole. 

I love the feeling of vulnerability but I also equally despise putting my guard down. I don’t want people to see me cry but God forbid, I allowed myself, for numerous times to lose it in front of someone who I now realized, never cared because he was also wrapped around his own misfortunes. I like it when I feel both the good and the bad around me. It makes everything else unreal and intangible and what only matters is the whirlwind of shits and ahhhs inside me. Humans, such a nasty breed of the living.

#Ican'tunderstandmybrain

Eastwood

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My heart skipped a beat when I saw a picture of Eastwood City. I instantly screencaptured it from my fruend’s instagram. The first time I entered Eastwood, the world felt new, scary and exciting. I knew I was lost but deep down, I was hoping that it was the place where I can find whatever shit that made me feel empty. It was the place where I didn’t care what’s gonna happen next and I put my guard down numerous times. 

“Anything could happen,” whispered Eastwood. 

“Desires you never told anyone? Honey, you can do it here,” Eastwood added.

I didn’t go wild. But I did things that I have always wanted to do, free from the need to conform with cultures set by close-minded people.

God, I wish I took more photos. I was too busy submerging myself into experiences so selfies and pictorials were always forgotten.

Eastwood City would always have a special place in my heart. It was home for “the Ronida” that was kept hidden and it is “the Ronida” that I am now proud of no matter what other people say. She knows that people are not defined by the choices they made in the past, that taking chances and fucking fear is a gift to your soul and society is an asshole that labeled people based on their beliefs. 

I wish you get lost at some point in your life. It’s scary but that’s when best things happen and you realize what you really want. Accept that cliche, it’s truth.