Reservoirs

My close friends have a term for me when I am in that state where I am in right now. BUBBLE. Without asking them to, they give me the space that I felt I need because my aura exudes me being lethargic. Languid. Sluggish. I love my friends for being able to know when to let me bubble up.

When I do bubble up, it’s like I have my own sense of isolation. It’s self-imposed and I feel disconnected but not really. Especially in these times that when I want to burst out of my bubble, everyone is like a facebook-like-status-away or a retweet away for them to know you’re alive. The disconnection is really some gaps that I give myself from the outside world.

No, I am not lonely. I get lonely but I am not a lonely person. Maybe you could say, I drift in and drift out. I fade in and fade out. And people say I am an extrovert. I find this funny. Coz I get to be very friendly, I laugh out loud, I talk. But I stop when there is no obligation to talk to that person any longer. Oh that’s the term—obligation. It’s a nagging thought that I do feel that way. I don’t like being obligated.

And it’s funny that way because at our generation, we do need some sense of obligation.

We are obligated to have a job, to be busy, be productive, to contact and interact with people, to like people. That’s natural, I guess. I blame my lethargic self to these obligations. It brings my mentality to a sense of confusion. Like being introjected to do what you should do or what society obligates you to but not really wanting to do it. So my life and actions are mostly in inertia. And it annoys me because I understand myself completely. I am a bad liar, it shows in my face. And I am certainly a bad liar to myself. I see no point in lying to myself and it gives me that feeling of being in statis, in mental breakdown. I wish I don’t understand myself that much.

I certainly wish that I just do my obligation and move on without a care in the world. But that’s just it. When I feel obligated to talk to you, and I do talk to you, I bring in a little care, sometimes a little too much than I intend to. I want to be that “I don’t give a shit” kind of person but you know what, I can’t. I just can’t. It’s in my nature. I do care. A whole lot, especially when people I trust the most, people who I thought were my friends, talk behind my back. Oh, I’m sorry, is my knife hurting your back?—my friend Kaloy would say. And that’s why I guess most betrayals are done by your closest friends. Or friends you thought were close to you. Maybe they are just obligated, too.

And because I care, I bubble. I protect myself with a fantasy of being able not to care, of disconnecting, of forgetting. But bubbles don’t last. And you can’t protect yourself forever. So I do my obligation- I burst my bubble. Connect. Move on to other obligations. Learn. Babble up in drafts. And wishing someone obligated to read may perchance to relate to what I’ve been babbling and bubbling about.