Introspection is such a lovely word.

Lovelier when practiced. I practice it often. When you catch me talking to myself, that’s just my daily struggle to understand who I am spilling over. Sure, it sounds weird, but then again, I never thought of myself as normal. Who is normal now, anyway? Odd is the new black.

Lucas and I talked last night and somewhere in between Tagaytay and treating patients with nana, he shared some thoughts about my favorite subject… ME!

So according to my doctor, I am harsh, violent, and hurtful. 

“What’s that? What’s that term? You are… you are… Iya, you are a dominatrix!”
“No kaya! Sakalin kita eh.”

So much for self defense.

I told him I think I’m still two levels away from being one. I don’t play with knives. I don’t have a gun. I haven’t been in a fistfight or a bitchfight for more than five years. My idea of bondage is scarves. For crying out loud, I’m not the one who owns handcuffs!

I could have simply ignored his observation (which sounded more like a conclusion) if only I have not been friends with him since puberty. Time is relative, I know, but there’s something about his memory that I can’t quite contest. There might also be one or two incidents that can support his claim.

I suddenly became concerned about the impression I give others.

“Hey… kind naman ako ha.”
“Yes, you are.”
“And gentle?”
“I’m sure you have a gentle side, you just don’t show it to people. You’re like the sun in Seattle.”

Justice said I am incapable of being dull, and hopefully I don’t become dangerously sharp. So what am I now? A knife?

A few scratches and tiny bruises can’t hurt that much.

I feel like asking all my frienemies if I am indeed harsh, violent, and hurtful. I will not use the word dominatrix, because some shithead perverts don’t know it also means demanding.

If I ask you, try to think of a way in which you can lie to me and say I am gentle, kind, and compassionate.

If you fukken piss me off, I’ll… I’ll…

I’ll have to think of something first.

Well maybe later.

For now, I have to get back to my introspection and scrutinize my way into a clearcut category of me.

(Not that I have to, I just want to. At least for now. And yeah, he also said that I can’t live a day without meeting a quota. For someone who just reappreared in my life, he knows me damn well. Haha.)

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listening to: The Cure – Friday i’m In Love