"...nice but seems removed..."

Lately, because I have been very stressed and wounded... I kept myself shut from the world.

Somehow, it felt like I can't understand myself anymore. The "me" has become someone I have never met in my entire life.

This led me to review my personality type -- INFJ. And somehow, I understood myself better, but not necessarily entirely. It helped but there's still a need to work on a lotta things.

...and I know it's not only me who felt that I suddenly started acting like a different person. Those who sincerely care about (for) me have felt the same strangeness in the way I deal with them. Somehow, it made me feel bad.

...and so I want them to at least understand me ...without questions.

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A common complaint about the INFJ female is that she is "nice but seems removed." ...People feel this about her even though they would admit that in fact she's always there when needed, quietly dependable, steady. Female INFJs must work hard to be understood and may find themselves being taken for granted because of their own failure to make their needs known. Consequently, when they do express their needs, it seems out of character and can lead to general disbelief, which, of course, is frustrating to the female INFJ.

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Yes, I do feel exactly this way. And if only I can carry a sign board hanging on my neck (all the time) that says, "Please Understand Me..." I'd do it. But of course, I'd look so like a &$#%@! hahaha Just fill in the missing word (or words).

How true that I blame myself for problems I did not even create! Can be so frustrating at times...

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more about INFJ...

...you look for a small group of people who understand and appreciate you and hang with them....you're gentle and don't like violence... you don't call a lot of attention to yourself... you like to let your accomplishments do your talking... you don't like the "politics" at work.. you'd rather be able to talk honestly with people than "play games."

Leisure time usually is solitary or involves the company of others particularly important to you...you're perfectly happy just sitting around with close buds discussing feelings...you'd rather have longstanding friends than make many new acquaintances... these deep friendships are important to you, even though you may not share much about yourself...

When you're scorned, you take it personally and retreat inward...you may obsess about the relationship and your role in the failure...you blame yourself for a failed relationship and might even need a period of mourning.

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I do remember how when scolded at or treated wrongly, I'd just retreat to my own world. I'd start thinking "what the hell did I do to deserve that kind of treatment?" Would not stop evaluating my deeds and actions....my words even.

...(but) just like what Binkie would tell me (like almost every time)... I will just forgive them in no time. Like nothing happened!

No effort needed. All of a sudden I'd just resolve to putting the blame on myself and forget about the cruelty done to me. blah! blah! blah!

...and I'd just let those *#@^#$%@ get away with their wrongdoings... then the cycle will just go on and on and on... like endless.

(AGAIN)...and I think I've reiterated this several times ALREADY... I don't like attention! So, please if you even want to become popular, GOSSIP about yourselves in stead!

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...and sommore...

They are very sensitive to conflict, and cannot tolerate it very well. Situations which are charged with conflict may drive the normally peaceful INFJ into a state of agitation or charged anger. They may tend to internalize conflict into their bodies, and experience health problems when under a lot of stress.

They never push people away and are always prepared to listen for as long as it takes to make others feel better, even if they theoretically have better things to do. INFjs are always ready to help friends in difficult life situations. They care not with words but with real actions.

INFjs do not really make good cheats or frauds. This however, does not stop them from trying sometimes. And even if they do, they are likely to feel pretty bad about themselves afterwards. This gives INFjs a reputation as naive and impractical people.

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...which is oh sooo true! Nuf said!

...and because I want you to understand me, might as well post my negative tendencies when in great stress, pain and whatever!

Not that I can't handle troubles...but I just become too overwhelmed by emotions...

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My very negative attitudes when overly wounded...

* May be unaware (and sometimes uncaring) of how they come across to others
* May quickly dismiss input from others without really considering it
* May have unrealistic and/or unreasonable expectations of others
* May be intolerant of weaknesses in others
* May be obsessive and passionate about details that may be unimportant to the big picture
* May be cuttingly derisive and sarcastic towards others
* May have an intense and quick temper
* May be tense, wound up and find it difficult to relax
* May hold grudges, and have difficulty forgiving people
* May be wishy-washy and unsure how to act in situations that require quick decision making
* May have difficulty communicating their thoughts and feelings to others
* May see so many tangents everywhere that they can't stay focused on the bottom line or the big picture

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Just copied this from personality type page. And I have to agree I can be like this when so in pain. I didn't include a few lines that never happened to me yet FYI. (in case you check the link)

Funny because I was actually reading something that is sooo ME. Almost couldn't believe it. But it feels good cause I have discovered some important details about myself.

If you want to understand yourself too...esp those who have been in constant search for answers...maybe you just have to get acquainted with yourself...try this!

Note: Just felt like blogging ...but without a clear idea what to write about. So, just learn about me for now.

It's true I don't like soap, but you don't have to rub it in my face!

Lesson for the day. No truth about customers being ALWAYS right. This is just what we (as customers) want to believe in. But definitely NOT if we're behind that counter.

There was no taxi service scarcity today. The service reached my place exactly on time. Only I was not yet done preparing. Which only means the driver had to wait (as usual).



Hippo needed to remind me to hurry. I hate each time he does that. Am such a sloth and I CANNOT move any faster than 15 feet per minute! Blah! Of course this is another stretching of the truth. Haha

...anyway...

Finally, I was out. The cab door was opened for me and so I got in. The driver asked for the destination and I politely answered.

The man was old, a little bald with some white hair showing from beneath his red baseball cap. Not the ordinary looking Filipino driver, I must say. Exactly how Hippo described him to me. He's more of Spanish descent. Mestizo and reddish. Even thought he could be the owner of 24/7 taxi service posing as a driver for whatever reasons! Nah! Another wild imagination.

Going back... we had a very short conversation, which went like this...

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Mestizo Driver: Where are we heading?

~ Paper tiger ~: To Shell Maya

Mestizo Driver: Right at Shell Maya, is't?

~ Paper tiger ~: No. After Shell Maya, a few buildings after... at Telecoms Plaza.

Meztizo Driver: Just along Buendia...

~ Paper Tiger ~: Yes. Buendia, that is.

Mestizo Driver: Ok, (imperative tone) You're late. 10 minutes.

~ Paper Tiger ~: *blank*

_____________________________________________

long silence...

He like slapped into my face how I make taxi drivers wait! (of course not literally) No matter how short the wait, it doesn't matter. TIME is precious.

Yes, I am paying them. I pay extra 50 PhP for the pick up plus the fare from my place to office (measured by a meter), which runs from 89 PhP to 102 PhP. Most often than not, I give extra 20 PhP for tip. This is out of the question, though. Because, in real sense, I definitely have to pay for their good service, right?

What I feel guilty about is I am (have been) taking their precious time (no matter how brief) from them. It could only be just 5 minutes, 10 minutes, yes...what is 5 minutes anyway?

...but time is something that cannot be returned when lost (or wasted). It cannot tick backwards. It doesn't have undo button. Every second passed is already history.

When I was applying for a job for the first time, I experienced having to wait for hours. I didn't like it. I so DETEST it! For me, no one has the right to take so much of my time because it's MINE. They can waste all their time all they want but I would never allow them to make me wait like that AGAIN. Not because I am the one applying or for the lack of better term, asking for something (job that is), I should be so humble and let them just take away every minute of my time.

I recalled all this during my entire trip to office (which just took only about 45 minutes...imagine?!!!). Was reminded of the GOLDEN RULE. I hate when people make me wait. So, why am I making these drivers wait, too?!

Am I so like those HR people that set schedules for applicants' job interview...(?) The very eager and equally nervous applicant comes in, at most, an hour early before his time. Minutes after minutes...eventually turned into hours, many applicants are already in the waiting area. One brave applicant breaks the deafening silence and talks to the one beside him...

___________________________________

Applicant 1: What time is your schedule?

Applicant 2: 9:30, and you?

Applicant 1: We have the same sched.

The rest of the applicants: what?!!!!!

___________________________________

In short, they are made to wait there for more hours than they should. What? Because they're just applicants? That they're the one needing jobs so they have to suffer like that? The you-want-it-go-geddit freakin attitude! Grrrr!

I so hate that scenario. I promised myself I won't ever let ANYONE do that to me. This is my time...it's not theirs. They got absolutely NO right to waste it for their own fatuousness.

...but today and the past 2 years...I have done the same to those poor drivers... *sniffs* I am GUILTY.

Am so sorry.

Am I bad?

Note: Dunno if my intro is even relevant. Whatever!

I see me three years ago today...

My life is as if enclosed in the world of showbiz. Somehow, it feels like people are relentlessly after my next moves. My affairs have been such a big part of their lives that they could not go through a day without discussing about me. Should I even be flattered? I wish it could somehow be considered like soft-soap; you know what I’m saying? It’s not the case, though as I am now tremendously disconcerted. I wish they would just leave me alone. People around me are like paparazzi that never leave as if I am such an important item. I mean, come on! I would understand if I were Britney Spears or something. Only I am just a simple girl that you will see in the same lonely and lackluster corner everyday; just a simple girl dreaming to have a quiet and unruffled life. Can I just have that? Can anyone of you just give me that? I do not need your attention. Believe me, I can go on whether you notice me or not, so please stop giving me all these attention now. I desire to just run far away and shut myself off from everyone. I am so damn sick and tired of small-minded people who cannot find anything good to say about anyone. No prank, I am and I’ve always been.

Wait, I must listen intently to myself. I have started acting like a certified grumbler! What is happening to me? This is all so unbelievable! The past days have been knotty for me, yes. People left and right are causing me distress. If I were a manic depressive freak, I could’ve already found myself at the morgue with all other manic depressive bodies lying on hard-wearing steel beds. Guess, this juvenile child inside me is in fact a warrior that never gives up on any fight. Yet, evidently, my heart had gone worn down.

Not that I had gone cynical or anything. Don’t get me wrong, I get to smile and laugh once in a while. I can only apologize to people who I should be focusing on for the lifts they give me whenever I am low. I do feel gratified because of them. And I believe they are one of the biggest reasons that I hang on strong. They are what cause the sparkle in my eyes and the delight in my heart. They do…and I hope somehow, in spite of my incessant ramblings, they still could see how they have made a big difference in my life.

Life, they say, is never easy. What more can I say?

~ the talked-about is always the last to hear the talk ~

Again, I question why people just won't stop passing nasty words around. I don't really care whatever the degree of nastiness. It actually may not be considered nasty, intfp... passing gossips ...hearsays...whatever you want to call it! ...thing is, why bother passing along something that is completely none of your business? Just doesn't make any sense to me. And I can't even decide whether to pity or loathe them. I am pissed, yes. They are making me believe more that nobody is deserving of trust.

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“It is perfectly monstrous the way people go about nowadays saying things against one, behind one's back, that are absolutely and entirely true.”

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I don't trust you anymore, Miss Plastic Coke Bottle. I don't feel sorry for you, though. I feel sorry for myself that I even gave you a bit of my trust. It's such a waste of resources. Should've just saved them for someone who deserved it more than you do. You deserve none. You are like a leech trying to suck some freaking blood from different people for your own grandiose pleasure. You're such a pathetic empathy magnet. You gotta be dealing with your pathetic self issues! ...and I hate that I have given you that precious space in my Yahoo Blog. Hate that I even said kind words about you. Now, I can't help but believe all the nice things you said about me were all but like you...all lies!

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Gossip needn't be false to be evil - there's a lot of truth that shouldn't be passed around.

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...there's another type of poison perhaps a little more insidious - thought poison - commonly called "gossip." Thought poison differs from body poison in two ways. It affects the mind, not the body, and it is more subtle. The person being poisoned usually doesn't know it. Thought-poison is subtle but it accomplishes "big" things. It reduces the size of our thinking by forcing us to concentrate on petty, unimportant things. It warps and twists our thinking about people because it is based on a distortion of facts, and it creates a guilt feeling in us that shows through when we meet the person we've gossiped about. Thought-poison is zero percent right thinking: it is 100 percent wrong thinking. And contrary to lots of opinion, women have no exclusive franchise on gossip. Every day many men, too, live in a partially poisoned environment.

Doodlings...

This is about the same month last year when I was feeling exactly like a crap. I checked the date, it's just 2 days delayed this year. Funny and unimaginable! Can you call it a cycle?

Are you asking me what I am talking about? Yes, of course. You have no idea... While here I am trying to soothe the burden in my chest. Anyway, I just find it weird how things are like happening over and over. Like a viscious pattern. Somehow, I wish we can just take hold of wonderful things in our hands and be the one to take control how much sadness we like to let in. If it were as simple as that...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Certain things turn ugly when you think too hard
And nagging little thoughts change into things you can't turn off...

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March 2 last year. I was this...

________________________________

sometimes, i'm blank. i am often bemused.

..like at this moment..
..like yesterday..
..so many things inside my head..

at the very core i am filled with emotions. just couldn't let them out.

how?!

there's really nothing to say when you don't even know what to say. (well, rather not talk than talk silly)...c'mon don't judge me now. this is my discretionary fiber.

picking up pieces of thoughts in every corner of my brain...and then dropping them again... leaving them behind as i move on to another memory of the past and memories yet to be created.

...inside my head is an unmistakeable mess. couldn't contain all the woes which are not even my own. call me a crackpot i wouldn't care. just feel me. feel for me. you must. and then judge me.

Think now.

* do you know how it is to care for people you don't even know?
* to try your hardest to love your enemies and insist on understanding them for hurting you and for them being mean?
* have any idea how it's like to put the blame on yourself for another's fault?
* you're feeling worn out but you just have to put a smile...
* how hard it is to try to fit in.
* feel like a failure when you don't seem like you belong to anything or anyone or anywhere.
* there are complexities in mirror neurons when it's often used or when it's interminably working (without your consent).

what do you think this is about?

...is this about me or yourself or the both of us?

feel for me. you must. if you have to judge me. feel me. and learn from me.

________________________________

Later by 2 days, I am like this again as last year. Believe me, it's not just about as simple as choosing to be happy. What if things around... people around won't just let you be?

I feel like the "Courtesan" in the film, "Dangerous Beauty". Absurd.

You gotta prepare for the life that you want.

This is going to be my last day being a nocturnal. 5:23 am. Just 37 minutes to go and I will say goodbye to my nocturnal peeps. No plans for today...soo far. Tomorrow, I will be back to my old routine (sleep around 4am and wake up around 8 to 11am). I wish to sleep like Sleeping Beauty. Sleep for a hundred years but please please just not awakened by a kiss. I fervently wish to be awakened by a good news that troubles and sadness are far gone away.

You are right, Lila. There will always be times that just when you need someone badly, they can't be there for you as you expect them to be. But not because they chose to ignore you. Certain things are just beyond our control. These times are times when we are given the chance to be strong for ourselves. Let's just take it as is. Learn and understand the meaning of poise under pressure. There is not much room for the fragiles.

This is really not one of my good days, yes. But I definitely learned so much. It's not easy to try and be positive all the time but, maybe, tomorrow has something better to offer. At least this is something to look forward to, right?

5:59 am and counting. Will have to sign off. Bye!

Aren't you tired of pretending to be something you're not?

Am not the type of person who would go beyond the reason behind someone else's acts. In fact, I just take people for what they are showing me. Thing with this, though, some people can be scheming. There is no way you can tell when they're doing it. They themselves won't admit that they do have something else in mind than plainly asking.

I maybe getting you lost now. Don't worry... You will know what I am trying to point out in a little while.

Last December, I met a new friend. She was the first one to befriend me. Made me wonder, "why?" but let's just say, I rather just ignored the question. Besides, there's nothing wrong if I take her friendship offer. Who knows it could get somewhere.

I can't clearly remember how it all started. How many times did we exchange ym messages... But what I do remember's the fact that she tried making me feel really comfortable with her. I must admit, though, I did. Dunno if I should regret it now or what. But, what happened was what happened. She could be the accomplice to a rumor spreading around the workplace. Really, I don't mind anymore. The truth will always be the truth. Maybe that's not they're really expecting to find out. So, it's up to them. I mean, I just don't understand why the hell do they care?! For goodness sakes!

I don't want to start ranting again. Well, it's the first thing that came into my head so... Well, I better just drop the matter, then.

This is going to be second to the last day of my being a nocturnal. The coming week is another start. Should I say, re-start?! Yes, I will be back to my old schedule. Dunno if it's a positive or negative thing but, I will just have to wait and see.

I changed the look of my blogsite. Of course, you did notice. I mean, those who have been visiting my green room (which is not anyway Green) for some time now. By the way, why Green Room? Many have already asked me this question. Will tell you what this term means. "Green Room" is a waiting room or lounge for the use of performers when they are offstage. This site is my lounge. I am the performer in the big stage of life. Got it? *wink* Nuf said.

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Oops, wait! Can't click on the publish button yet. I really have to include this part...

My conversation with GPTBF (girl pretending to be a friend)...

______________________________________________

GPTBF: can i ask you..are we friends???

~paper tiger~ : how can I tell?

GPTBF: yeah, right... you already answered me

~paper tiger~: dunno really...anyone can be a friend...but how real...that's the big question
~paper tiger~: had been severely judged by people
~paper tiger~: even by those who I thought were real friends
~paper tiger~: it's hard to define friendship nowadays

GPTBF: yeah, for me this is much better..i can say this frankly and so are you to me without being hurt.

GPTBF: i didnt hurt your feelings,did i??

~paper tiger~: I wasn't a bit hurt..all the while...been hearing rumors...
~paper tiger~: what else could hurt me more?

GPTBF: yeah

______________________________________________

I still keep your letters hoping to find the answers in your words.

Hi! How are you?

You know what? I thought of you today. I don't know how, in the midst of my most hectic days, thoughts of you manage to squeeze their way into my mind. I don't know how you do it, considering that I haven't heard from you for four years now. Come to think of it, I didn't even realize until now that it has been four years. Four years, so many "relationships" since then, and yet, I still go back to you.

I know, it's not your fault we're not even friends anymore. After all, I was the one who changed numbers and didn't tell you. But please understand that, at that time, I thought it was the best way to go for both of us. I couldn't get the closure that I wanted, because I knew you were just a text away. Besides, back then, I was considering dating one of my closest friends seriously, and the only way I could possibly do that without going crazy was by cutting you off. I'm sorry for that.

I was the ultimate cynic before I met you, and I know I shouldn't be reminding you of this, because you know me so well. I was the boy who was terrified to commit, terrified to lay his heart out on the open, terrified to gamble, for the weirdest and most confusing reasons...

Actually, now that I had so much time to think about it, my phobia back then can actually be summed up in four words: fear of getting hurt. I was so petrified at the thought of getting hurt, that I made people believe that I regarded them closely, but actually dealt with them at arms' length. I never let anyone get close enough to hurt me. I originally planned to do the same with you. Of course, you wouldn't allow me. That was one of the reasons why, I believe, I fell for you.

My love life, predictably, has a very sad and sorry cycle. Girl X falls for me. I fall for her. She tries to get close to me. I place her at a safe distance. She tries to get closer. I push her farther away. She gets tired of trying. I get tired of myself. We let go. I try bitterly to move on. I meet Girl Y, but I can't deal with her too well because I'm still moping about Girl X. And the cycle repeats itself almost automatically. I know that to be happy, you have to gamble, but I was never a good risk taker. Not until after you.

You were unlike any girl I've ever met before. You were a spoiled brat who was used to getting what she wanted in an instant. Admittedly, I was a spoiled brat too. So we clashed. You hated all the things that I loved, and I loathed all the things that interested you. It was a match made in hell. But somehow, for some unknown reason, you stayed put.

I still don't know how you did it. Somehow, someway, you managed to pull the rug off from under me. And before I even knew what was happening, I had been swept off my feet.

I remember just now, how the simplest of your gestures can make me so giddy. I remember how I was when I used to wait for your call. I used to shudder in anticipation of hearing your voice, literally speaking. And when you text me, it was like nothing else mattered-at all.

I can vaguely remember the kilig feeling, but I know that it felt like my insides were turning to mush, my muscles were dissolving in electricity, and butterflies were hammering against my throat. I know, they don't sound too good in print, but they are, in actuality, the best feelings in the world.

I remember, still quite vividly, how the mere memory of your laugh was enough to make me smile, and how the mere sound of your voice had been enough to brighten up the darkest of my days. I remember looking forward to waking up every morning, because I knew it would be another day to communicate with you. Somehow, deep down, I knew I was falling for you. Somehow, however, I tried to bury them to the deepest recesses of my heart in the hope of vanquishing them forever.

I remember quite well how you told me, countless of times, how much you loved me. Unfortunately, I am also constantly reminded how cruel I was. Because every time you said you cared, I always found ways to avoid answering back. I'd tell you, "I like you as a person," or I'd say, "Mushy!" It got to the point, however, that I got tired of making up ways to avoid your question that I just told you, "You know I can't answer that right now." I'm so darn stupid! I would always have to stop from banging myself against the wall when I remember how badly I treated you. And, I know, no matter how many times I tell you I'm sorry, nothing would ever change anything.

You asked me once why I liked you. And I told you, "Because you make me happy." And you know what? You really did. You made me happy, in a way that I never thought I could ever be. I thank you for that.

To tell you honestly, I don't remember how you look like. I can only remember certain aspects. But I do remember, so very well, the sound of your voice, your musical laughter, and sadly, even the distant and angry tone of your voice as we neared our goodbyes.

Maybe I'll never forget you. Maybe I'll never live down the fact that I had you - but I let you go. Was it that, or was it that I had you, but I did not work hard, did not fight hard enough to make you stay? I don't know. I don't want to think, and I don't believe that now is the time to rationalize about these things. Because the truth of the matter is, you're gone. I hate living the life, knowing that I'll be thinking of these "what if's" for the rest of my life. I hate wishing that I could turn back time, so that I could correct all my mistakes, took all the risks I should have taken, and reached for your hand when you held it out for me. But it's too late for that, and it's not even plausible anyway.

I can't help but wonder, once in a while, how you're doing. I wonder if you're happy, or if some lucky creature is making you happy. I wonder if you still think of me, or even just remember that I exist. Because I think of you. Every single day, against my will, against my better judgment. I've fooled myself long enough to believe that you're not important in my life, not essential to my existence. I'm tired of my own masquerade. I just want to acknowledge the fact that yes, you have touched my life, even if I have acknowledged you too late.

A lot of people say, "There are many fihes in the sea." They weren't lying. I found that out myself after we separated ways. I dated like hell when you said goodbye, trying to numb myself from the pain, trying to ignore the emptiness that was left with the vacuum that you created in my life. But you know what? At the end of the day, it was still you. I couldn't find the special spark that I found in you, not even in better-looking or funnier or smarter or richer gals. They didn't have the magic that you had. They couldn't make my insides melt with a smile. They couldn't ease away all my pains with a call. Simply put, they were not you. Yes, they were many, but none of them was you. I wish you could see me now. I believe I can safely say that I'm a much better person now than I was four years ago. I have a better perspective on life and love. I don't make up fights anymore just to make things interesting. I don't make up stories anymore to test how much people love me. I don't play mind games anymore. And when I feel something, I say it. I'm not afraid to love anymore. I'm not afraid to get hurt. I'm no longer afraid to take risks. I just wish you were here to see the new, different me. But then again, that could never happen, no matter how hard I try to wish for it.

You know what? Because of you, I promised myself a few things. I promised myself that I would never be afraid to fall or get hurt. I promised myself that I would take risks, seize opportunities, and conquer my fears. I promised myself that I would never settle for anything less than butterflies.

I used to believe that when you lose someone, you'll get a chance to meet them again. I used to believe in second chances. Losing you has taught me that there are no second chances in life. When you meet someone, and you are given that chance to change their lives, you have to take hold of that opportunity, because that is the only chance you've got. You have your chance, and that's it. You have to make the most out of it, and then let go when it's time. People come and go, and you have to live with it.

I constantly have to remind myself that you've done your part in my life. You taught me the lesson you came to teach, so you have to leave. I have to move on. I shouldn't wait. But I can't help it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

...But this is not from you. I can only wish...
... but we both know it's not from you.

I wish I could say that I was as strong as I pretended to be.
Truth was you had already hurt me twice, I was not prepared for a third.