Last week, we asked Ecosoc to give us their answers to the question “If the madness within could speak, what would it say?” Here’s what they whispered.
Sometimes, I remember that he’s not the one for me.
Other times, I choose to forget.
Bless me father of all chick flicks and rom coms for I have sinned; the last rom com I watched was Mamma Mia and it was the first romcom I watched in more than half a year. AKA I have no intentions of watching Midnight Sun, The Kissing Booth or To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before. And yes, I know. I’m not that happy about that either
I used to be so into the idea of love or finding someone to love – someone who will love us back. But about a year back, I fell out of love for that idea of love. I’ve come to develop such flawed expectations of what a relationship should be like coming out of my first one and it just freakin sucks now that I see how much it’s affected my perception of love and even life in general. Maybe it’s not even that romcoms implant such high expectations that make me wanna avoid it but rather the thought that it’s going to keep me waiting on something that will never come, making scenarios in my head that which will never come true like the frustratingly hopeless romantic I am. No mater how high or low the expectations they implant are, it’s the fact that it may possibly never happen that make me so cynical because you can never ask for these things to happen. You can only hope. And it’s gotten so tiring. In some way, it’s helped me understand deeper what relationships are like rather than what they should be – rid of expectations and all. Gratitude turns what we have into more than enough and it is comparison that is the theft of that contentment but in the meantime, I guess I’m just not strong enough yet to set aside that sense of longing enough to keep me happy and content with where I am. So Midnight Sun, The Kissing Booth or To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before will have to wait.
i’ve made countless drafts in my head
covered in red ink, crumpled, ruined from the start
but i’ve finally concluded it’s useless to keep constructing the perfect confession
and just say what i’ve been hiding in my heart.
when i met you, i thought you were adorably uptight
unnecessarily formal, didn’t fit the scene quite right
i couldn’t help but smile and take that hand
and i thought, “could i like him? i think i just might”
but of course shit happened
and i found myself chasing
another guy, who, mind you, i honestly regret
but your jokes and your company made me feel lighter
and with you, it was so easy to forget
you were not at all a rebound crush, i’d like to clarify
i know better than to jump on solid rock and think that i’ll survive
i simply saw in you a light that never faded
and it was a breath of fresh air to me that felt jaded
i knew you liked someone, so out of respect i stayed away
but with each mention of her (what was her name? you don’t say)
i had started to feel antsy
and i prayed to god that it was me each and every day.
i decided to show you i like you
even though i hate that, i’m not a showman
everything i did was too much, or too little
so each and every move made my resolve shaky and brittle
so instead i settled for saying the things i always do
“congrats!” “you did so well!” “i’m so proud of you!”
hoping you’d hear the softness in my tone and the underlying “i like you,”
but, of course, you take it as courtesy and so, you never do.
i don’t hope for anything anymore
knowing you, you’re oblivious to your healing effect
you inspire me to be a better person and that’s enough
i couldn’t ask for anything more perfect.
no, i’m not heartbroken.
i’ve felt and gone through this countless of times
hope replaced with disappointment
passion turned disgust
don’t you dare feel special.
this is a personal problem.
no, i’m not angry.
i’ve seen this countless of times before
the spark, the rise, the plateau, the fall
were you lonely? did you miss me?
clearly, you did something.
(i just don’t approve of it)
no, i don’t like you.
i’ve spent countless of hours trying to chase you
and when i stopped
you had the audacity to cry at my feet.
where was this compassion
when you distanced yourself from me?
no, we can’t be together.
even if i wanted to.
even if you wanted to.
this is a game, and we need to stop playing.
this is a race, and we need to stop competing.
… but no, i don’t hate you.
we’re all stupid; insecure; thirsty for affection
you’re too stupid to be manipulative
but too weak that you give in to proximity.
yes, i do love you.
but before you, there was me,
the only person i’m sure who will stay.
and so i’ll leave you to find whatever it is you seek
and i’ll wonder if you’ll come back to me someday.
– acadz muna
Photo: Patrick Santos
Josh is hotter and cuter than Peter in To All the Boys I Loved Before.
I do not mean that Lara Jean deserves Josh more than Peter. You win that argument. Peter wins Lara Jean’s heart. But Josh wins mine. Including my whole body.
Okay, context. I’m usually (maybe always) weak for boys. Their smile, their demeanor, their everything. It always makes me want to devour me in ways I don’t even know myself. I don’t know if it’s grotesque for the people reading when I say this, but whenever I look at boys, the way I rate how much I want them is not the usually the same as other people.
I always, if not most of the time, try to imagine them and check how well they can dominate me. Yes, as in dominate in bed. Like how they like to control and tear you apart. It’s usually the kind, gentle guys who turn into rough beasts in bed. I’m sure of that. No one wants to show their demeanor to other people when it comes to sex; you only show that to the person you’re doing it with because it’s what makes it hot. You feel like you’re seeing this side of the person you never expected to have. It’s like a vulnerability that turns the both of you on. Heck, that lowkey, gentle, and kind guy in your class could probably even ruin you to pieces so much better than all the fuckboys you know in your life.
The thing with Peter is that he knows he looks good. He knows why Gen’s so obsessed with him. He knows why he was the most popular guy in the cafeteria. He understands what Lara Jean meant when she said he had golden specks in his eyes. That’s what made me find him kind of boring.
Josh, on the other hand, doesn’t know how good he looks. He’s not as attractive as Peter, but it’s the fact that he doesn’t know how cute he is that makes him cute. And hot. He’s like this innocent person who tries to make it better for everyone. He can be selfless to the point that he maybe doesn’t know how he makes it better for himself. It’s as if he’s focused so much on what other people want to the point that he doesn’t know what HE wants.
This is where his hotness comes in. Imagine doing it with him for the first time. He doesn’t know his desires to the point that you will have to figure them out for him. When you get into the groove. He suddenly likes it. He wants more. But he gets scared. He sees a side of himself that he didn’t know before. You tell him it’s okay. You tell him to do whatever he wants. To stop thinking, and let his body do what it wants. And so he does. He ravages you until God knows when.
He’s gonna feel guilty after all of it because he knows he’s the kind, gentle guy, but what happened was not kind and gentle in any sense. It feels like what he did was wrong and what he doesn’t want to be certain of is that he LOVED it. But he did. He’s also only shown this side of him to you. He might not want it for a while out of the guilt, but he will. He will want to destroy you once again.
That’s simply how I see Josh. It makes me want to reveal his true desires for him and wreck me in the process. It makes me so weak.
– Zara Jean Covey
When the hustle and bustle of the world fades away and I’m left alone to my own thoughts, I think about you. It was never anything real, but in some strange universe it could have been. I replay stupid conversations in my head, overanalyze every move, every gesture, and always come to the same conclusion each time—I should have been braver. If I’d smiled at you more, or I’d treated you better, or if I’d let you known how much I liked you (because fuck, I really fucking liked you but I could never admit it to myself until you were gone) things could have been different. I know I have to stop beating myself up for things I can no longer change, but it hurts when you smile at her. I wish you’d smile at me that way again.
– hopeless :/
Noong una kitang nakilala, araw-araw ako’y bumabangon makita ang iyong ngiting nakakaakit. Sa bawat araw na natagpuan kitang malungkot, sana makita mo ang aking pinaggagawa para ika’y sumaya.
Sana malaman mo na hirap akong sabihin ang aking nadadama dahil ayokong mawala ang ating simpleng pagkakaibigan o kaya, takot ako kung ano ang iyong maisasagot dahil hindi kita tunay na kilala.
Ang aking mga saloobin ay ‘di ko nasabi at bigla napang ika’y nawala. Sa aking pagbangon araw-araw, naririnig ko ang mga patak ng ulan sa umagang walang liwanag at sabay kong naiisip ang ating mga landas na kailanma’y ‘di magtatagpo.
Ngunit sa paglipas ng panahon, ika’y dumating sa hindi inaasahang panahon. Alam kong nagbago na ako, ngunit hindi ko inaasahang nagbago ka rin. Lahat ng aking mga sana noon ay ngayo’y nagkatotoo.
At dahil nga nagbago na ako, hindi ko alam kung tatanungin pa kita. Hindi ko alam kung ang aking mga emosyon ay nawala o nakatago lamang sa isang madilim na sulok.
Hindi ko na alam kung ano ang dapat kong gawin.
It’s one of those days when I feel like nothing I do is worth it, one of those days when my fear of being inconsequential rings in my ears like a constant drum. From the moment we are born we are taught to aspire to be great. And sometimes I am up for the challenge – I dream of being somebody, I dream of meaning something. But today I am not. Today I am tired. I’ve forgotten what the air feels like when I let myself fly. I’m afraid I may never want to remember.
My Tinder match called me her constant. Honestly, I’m on cloud fuckin nine right now. And that terrifies me. What if something goes wrong? What if she gets tired? What if I stop thinking about What if and just Do Something. Do make her day special in small ways. Do make sure she laughs at least once when we meet. I’ll earn the title of consistency if it fuckin kills me
– Almost-20 year old virgin