the scenic route is long and winding

when "oh this looks an episode on fear factor" popped into my head, i knew my brain was kicking in. Still, it was not until it issued the imperative "Danger. Let it go" when i finally released my hold on my handbag.

i would like to say i was tenacious, a fighter, but the hindsight that i could have died, as well as the throbbing of some wounds and bruises, would say i was being stupid. i hope my younger siblings read this and think "That really was a stupid thing to do, ate".

Still, i can't fault my instinct. That was the first thing it wanted to do in those first few seconds, to go all "oh no, you don't!" and keep pulling at my handbag's strap even though i was aware of being dragged across the ground at motorcycle speed...against the flow of traffic on zobel roxas. My friend was right when she said, "you know, you'll never really know what you can and will do until you're actually faced with a certain situation."

i always said i'd just give up my things if i get mugged. and i was surprised to know that my instinct, and a little part of my conscious self, was not to, pala. that was what really made my heart throb extra hard a few hours later, that there were a few seconds when i was consciously just not letting go, still fighting. some of the similar muggings in my area involve riders with guns or metal tubes to hurt their victims. what if this dude had a gun? i would have been very easy to shoot, and fatally, being the quite large and noticeable buntot of their little ride. upon reflecting on it later, i also realized that, should there have been a parked car that obstructed my legs in those first few "stupid" seconds while i was in angry mode, my instinct would have been to pull very hard and make the second rider fall off. but what if he does fall off yet manage to pull something on me before i could escape? i pride myself on being relatively brave, but not on being foolhardy. jesus christ.

no, i'm not blaming myself. there's really no one to blame for people who'd rather hurt others than take on an honest job, even if it's just powering pedicabs (the drivers were actually one of the first people by my side, apart from ate josie who shouted so loud to alert everyone when she saw me fall). i'm just surprised at my not-so-smart initial reaction to something like this. i hope my instincts know better next time.

obviously, i don't think i'll get over this for a while, and i'm still very, Very nervous to step out of my house as it happened just right at the corner from where i live, i had a companion and it was 8am. i'm actually quite careful and aware because these people are always roaming our streets. apparently, even that is not enough to be safe from these lazy bastards. may they be raped by a gang of hyperactive carabaos (thanks, roj!). then may the tusks of ornery elephants find their way to anal crevices ideally used for pleasure. then may somebody bash their faces so bad they look like the love child of gollum and ephialtes. but then may they still retain full function of their johnsons so they feel a profound pain when absolutely no one will touch them.

apart from what seems like minor injuries, the damage includes my dear mobile phone (which doesn't deserve this treatment), my digital camera (replaceable), my wallet with official IDs and bank cards (alerted and blocked, except for official IDs that i still have to work on). what i consider the greatest loss is my little notebook with the Gustav Klimt painting on the cover. that had all my ideas, some writing, plans, passwords (already changed), dreams, favorite things, etc. I'm still crying about this, but i would be lying if i said trauma wasn't thrown in there somewhere.

later in the evening while i was praying before bedtime, i apologized to my body and said "i'm sorry i put you through that, but thank you for letting go. i'll take better care of you, okay?" i'm just happy that, at some point, the more powerful part of my brain COMMANDED my body to let it go. there was, honestly, a little part that wanted to hold on because it believed i could still win. i'm happiest that my body followed the other part of my brain. i think that was my Guardian Angel's doing. and i keep breathing a sigh of relief that somebody, something, released my hands' grip before either the thieves hurt me with something or a car ran me over. Thank God, indeed. Thank you, God. THANK. YOU. GOD. boy does he know what he's doing. whew.

now i have to push myself to still go about my normal life, even though my heart is hammering at the thought of stepping past our gate. but i have to, else i'd have lost more than my bag and what was in it. today's a sunday and the wounds on my feet (not so bad, actually, but there were thin layers of flesh that got removed) are throbbing like anything. it could be because i decided to still push through with my recital last night because i needed something to smile about. now That is the right kind of courage.

somebody said after seeing me perform, "parang akala mo wala lang nangyari sa 'yo ah." i went all batman (frank miller-style) and said, "it's a simple matter of telling your body to turn that grimace of pain into an extra wide on-stage smile."

(as a request, can you just pray for my family? :D i had some bank info in there and i'm afraid they may think we have money or something and do something worse than robbing just me. thank you :) )