That's my new swear word of the day.
Punyeta is distinctly Filipino, encompassing the sharp staccato sting of "Putangina mo" without the length or the half-step beat that doesn't make it quite as jarring or as painful as one would think. It rolls off the tongue easily as well, and can be inserted within a sentence or a tirade without one losing focus, an added punch to an already bullet-ridden body. However, it can also convey something that can be explained as somewhere between annoyance and anger, therefore reducing the blow of something as hardcore and deep as "Putangina mo!" and yet managing to retain some of its gravitas while lending it a slightly lighter feel, of knowing that you are pissed off (and with legitimate reasons) but you are looking to laugh it off rather than stew in your own juices.
So. Punyeta sums up my current emotional state.
Punyeta describes the stupid state of things at home, where the bureacracy is shot and refuses to give us our electricity back, where neighbors are beginning to get on each others' nerves, and where the lack of light is threatening to shove us all back into the mentality of the Middle Ages. Punyeta is how it feels to have been going home to an empty room for the past couple of nights and sleeping alone in my bed because my siblings have been shipped off into another dimension. Punyeta is how it feels when you lie in bed and allow the shadows to come rushing in, flickering figures of almost-light at the corner of your eye, wishing the ghosts wouldn't come.
Punyeta describes my current un-creative state, where I must confess that I have yet to find the energy to write the Gaiman story, what with four days to go before the deadline. I feel so bland and boring and stupid lately, as if my mind has conveniently forgotten how to think in terms of dialogue and narrative and diction and instead has focused on such trivial things that were never even taught in college. Sometimes I feel like I'm operating on automatic pilot most of the time during work days, my brain just going through the prescribed patterns of thought, refusing to deviate from the path of least resistance. I am slowly forgetting my poetry, my acts of creation, relying instead on the urgency of the here and now.
Punyeta describes my current feeling about the relationship, the idea that I am being taken for granted, that I am losing my patience because of the little things that are merely a front for the larger issues that I find myself concerned with. I feel like his affection is slowly waning, settling into a comfortable place where he knows that I won't be going anywhere and so can withdraw his attention and focus on other matters (like his video games) while I, who has become used to his presence, suddenly find myself cast adrift across an ocean that I am unfamiliar with. Am I still necessary? Am I stil needed?
What I need right now: A vacation away from the maddening crowds. Give me a week, give me two. I need to just not think for a while right now. But of course, that's not possible. I am needed elsewhere, but not by the person I need the most right now.