damned blogger. ate my post. grrrr.

I spoke with her, not on the phone, but via chat. She didn't want me to call her, she said talking would only make her cry even more. So via YM I spoke with my sister, who is going through some heavy crises in her life.

I, being her sister, am going through it with her too.

What can I say?

That this too shall pass?

That you're still luckier than most?

That you make your own life?

That you have the power to choose life over death.

While we were chatting, I typed the following message:

"Do you want me to go there? I can quit my job, look for a job there and stay with you."

But I didn't press the "enter" key.

But if there was a way for me to hold your hand as you go through this, i would do it. If only I had a visa. If only I was braver.

past forward

"Sometimes a song on the radio will remind me of you.
Sometimes driving by a restaurant will remind me of you.
Sometimes breathing will remind me of you."

- from a cutesy Hallmark card

Years and years (and more years) ago, when people still bothered to send greeting cards and National bookstore was the best place to find them, I found a greeting card that said just that. It was in 1997.

I got the card and kept it. One faraway day which came anyway, I tore the plastic wrapping open and got the card out. It was ready for sending. I sent it.

Years later, I found the same card at a bookstore. It reminded me of that time in my life when I sent it. Looking back, I'm now not sure why I got the same card a second time. Just in case?

I mean the words are so simple, yet they sound real. The feelings behind the words seem real. Years later, I wrote on the card and sent it.

Now I don't ever go the greeting card section of any bookstore anymore. I just send any goodbye message via sms.

waitaminit, i don't have a problem.

i'm feeling good. i've gone back to laughing at myself over THAT.

i won't ever obsess about that anymore. shoo fly, don't bother me.

i've realized what my problems are. the reasons why am tired and grouchy.

but i'm not telling you. only armi knows. and armi, being the true friend that she is, will not share.

dear armi:

i identified 2 reasons right? the first reason- is manageable. changeable. i can do something about it.

the second reason, as i've told you, is something that i can't seem to take control of.

but mind you, i'm not angsty. just pikon. but deep down, am thankful for the entertainment. although nakakainis, i am entertained.

these days i feel that i'm always tired. i don't have the same energy i used to have at work. as soon as it gets dark, i always end up packing up for home.

midway through my 3rd session of yoga i found myself wanting to quit. i had the urge to leave the room and never come back.

just last week i was telling my friends that i'd like to enroll in a museum's docent program this summer. just a few moments ago i realized i didn't want to do that anymore.

right now i just want to go home and sleep.

As my friend Armi said, I've tried doing bikram yoga with her somewhere here in Makati. It was my first time to do true blue yoga and I'm quite pleased with the fact that I didn't admit to my instructor that I've sat in front of the TV following some seemingly yogish postures and breathing exercises some years back. It would have added some more units of kahihiyan that night, considering that in that 90-minute class, the instructor must have shouted my name at least 20 times: "Divina, put your arms down" or "Divina, other way" or "Divina, stop looking around"; "Divina, grab your toes this way as I've told you already".

Our class was to start at 8 pm and since it was 750pm already, the instructor taught me and another beginner David, the most basic of the basics: safety. The heat of the room (40 degrees) was going to affect my brain and doing a complicated posture in that kind of temperature was going to be real challenge, the instructor said. I would get a little woozy at times, he said, and if that happens, I was not to place my hands on my hips or look down (as what gym-goers usually do when they get tired); I was supposed to keep my chin up to open the windpipe and put my arms at the side, kneel if necessary. Listen to your body. Okay. Sounded simple enough.

Then the class started. We were made to do breathing exercises. Inhale, exhale. The longer the inhale, the better. The longer the exhale, the longer the inhale that follows later. Okay. Inhaling was a problem, I could only gulp so much air. The exhale was better for me. I used to do that years and years ago, in my past life filled with music.

So we inhaled and exhaled and we did this and that. Flex, flex. Stretch, stretch. The room was hot. I should have taken a lot of water before class, I was told, because I was going to perspire it all. Okay. I've a small bladder and was scared to have to go during class. Surprisingly, I did probably perspire it all. 30 minutes later, based on my reflection on the mirror, i looked like i just got out of the shower.

Probly halfway into the class, I noticed that I was dizzy. And my heart was beating very very fast. I remembered what the instructor had told me earlier, stop moving, kneel, chin up, breathe. And that was exactly what i did. The teacher said "are you okay divina", I nodded and gathered all my strength not to faint.

After a few minutes I regained my composure and rejoined. Ganun lang naman pala. Practice lang. I was able to survive that 90-minute class. At the end of the class, the yogis and the yoginis clapped their hands for me (and David). I thought, whew, I did it. To think that, when I arrived at the studio earlier that night, I witnessed a guy lose it. During class.

The guy fainted first. Then he was brought out and was being resuscitated. After a bit of mild slapping on the face, he came to be. Then he started crying. No- there were no tears. He was grunting. Wailing? Maybe. He was like a baby, he cried without tears, like something was painful.

He was crying for maybe 20 minutes, and I was there, the curious cat that I was, watching him, watching the instructor soothe him with words like "don't cry", "you're okay" and "i'm here". I was wondering, how old are you? 25? 24? you look young. and rich. and sad. What's the story of your life?

I asked the girl at the counter: he didn't disclose his medical condition before attending yoga? She said the guy has been attending classes for 3 years and it was only then that something like that happened to him. I thought he didn't look physically sick. It seemed like he was more wounded inside. He was emo at the highest level.

I texted a friend that I was at the yoga place and that a guy seemed to be having a nervous breakdown. I thought, nakakasira pala ng ulo ang yoga.

And I'm going back there tonight. As if I wasn't crazy enough.

....

....

can't. write.

Because it's Friday:

• I will leave the office early.
• I will do my laundry.
• I will watch the elimination episode of American Idol.
• I am wearing my oldie but goodie black pants, almost green (yuck.)
  
• I am rushing letters for sending out.
• I am going to have a nice, expensive dinner.
  
• I am looking forward to badminton on Sunday.
• I am going home to Fairview.