Cigarette Smoke

(Wrote this after watching the Cinemalaya film: "Ang Nawawala". See, I do watch something local; just as long it's sensible. Originally posted in pinoy.md)

Weeks have gone by without me noticing them passing by. What I wouldn’t give for a cigarette stick in between my fingers, taking a very rewarding puff while listening to sappy and sad songs. There is something in smoking that makes it so conducive for channeling tragedy. Sometimes alcohol doesn’t serve your need to be sad; hence, you turn to smoking. But what I have instead is a bowl of cereal full of milk.

I have to blame the latest film out of the Cinemalaya rosters, Ang Nawawala. For some inconceivable reason; I found myself going to Gateway despite the fact I have exams less than 2 weeks away. Well, I had to mourn how my GWA, Grade Weight Average, resembles a striptease.

A striptease. A person either an attractive man or woman slowly takes off his/her clothes in an artistic manner. It is done painfully slow, to remind the viewer how beautifully sculpted the wearer’s body is. It serves to enhance the details of the stripper: every sumptuous curve and every bit of exposed unblemished skin. Notice how the lingerie or underwear seems not to cover anything at all. The aureole or breasts of the women are barely covered to give it a semblance of decency while for the men; the family jewels are snugly covered. In short, suggestive covering. But I digress. 

The one thing my GWA has with a striptease is how close it is to the required average, for the scholarship, yet so far. It was as if I witnessing a titillating bevy of strippers taking their clothes slowly yet I am not allowed to touch nor fornicate with them. Well, that’s exactly the point of a striptease by leaving the viewer in exquisite agony; how the viewer will never meet someone with a body as perfect as the stripper’s. 

For some reason, without knowing any background about that film; I decided to watch it. Well, it did not fit my expectations. I actually prefer films like that instead of predictable films but that backfired on me. It made me more depressed upon leaving the cinema. Because that film had so many issues, it pulled out my issues as well. Everything about that film was so perfect, perfect blending of acting, rock music and story-telling that in the end you can’t help but feel something. Unfortunately for me, that feeling was depression.

I was tempted to act out many of the film’s scenes, especially the ones with cigarette smoking, that I had to restrain myself from buying menthol lights, my former preferred cigarettes, from the nearest 7-11. For some reason, there really is something powerful lying in a bathtub, smoking a joint and watching the smoke dissipate into the surrounding air. It was as if you were watching your problem dissipate into nothingness.

And from mourning my striptease GWA, I turned to mourning my failures, and lack of, relationships. So I had no choice but to re-enact those scenes minus of course the smoking. But I did listen to sad songs. I thought I had outgrown my issues but I was mistaken. Deep emotional scars are so hard to wipe out.

Get hurt once and you think there is no more hope. Longing for romantic relationships gets tinged with fear of getting hurt and rejected. And that is putting it lightly. Sometimes, it may require you seek the sanctuary of cigarettes because you can’t drown your sorrows in alcohol. And then, you take a cab alone; slumped to one side, still thinking how that b*tch tore your heart to pieces but you can’t bawl it out inside the cab so you hold it.

It is when you get off that cab that you collapse on the sidewalk and cry. Cry like you’ve never cried before. The tears don’t stop flowing down your face; you are reduced to waterworks and as much as you try to stop, you just can’t. Somehow, after that episode, you get the energy to get off that sidewalk and go to your room but because you are now inside a covered place; you start round 2 of the waterworks. You start acting irrational, seeking answers from a supernatural being but there are no answers coming. And that’s just hours prior to being rejected; I haven’t even factored the days, months and years after that fatal rejection.

I used to think that having a relationship would heal me but, as a fellow colleague advised, that’s just selfish thinking. That was one rationale behind not shaving because a relationship is destined so I ended up having a think moustache and beard. But I had reneged on that foolishness. Still a pain to shave but getting used to it; after all, going to become a physician, can’t end up looking so unhygienic. So yes, that also makes me look younger than I actually am. Sometimes, I still miss the 3 – month beard and mustache combo however it reduces the chances of one-night stands. 

The issues never really leave you. Sometimes, it just takes a well-made film to bring them out again. Who knows, months or years after this is posted; I’ll get over my katorpehan, which I have been told are baseless because I am tall, I’m 5’10”, athletic, well manages to work out despite being in medical school, and has the looks, I’ve been told by strangers. Anyway, no problem with a bit of sadness and depression here and there; it helps in the healing process. 

(Notes: back to regular programming. Anyway, helps me de -stress if I write down my emotions in essays (used to draw and paint a very long time ago but lost that talent.) Also, hope someone gets something out of this; not just my graphic descriptions. I have a feeling; I'm going to be posting a lot more emotions as I progress in year level).