old posts

beautiful relief

I use to resort to some beautiful thoughts in my mind, especially when Im
down or in failure. They come in handy and they are such a relief. It
helps me cut loose from the confining reality. Reality that corrupts our
dreams as we grow old.

I dusted off some of those and I see the same old thoughts and feelings
that are quite hard to put into words.

I think out of the box and I see beautiful desires. I want to spend the rest of my life by the river or on my little boat floating on the sea.. with my fishing rod, patiently waiting for my catch to take the bait as I rest from the days work watching the beauty of sunset. And when the sunset is over, I will sail my way home where my girl is waiting for the cook's arrival, I will then prepare a full flavored meal for that sweet dinner before we share the night. The smell of breakfast and coffee will wake me up for a new day. All of these as we make each and every day of our life way far from over.

Blooff! enough of that. Lets go back to reality.

Reality bites, and it doesn't just hurt, it sucks! dreams aren't usually in tune with reality. When I was younger, I wanted to be a seaman circumnavigating the world . But here comes reality! Fast forward 10 years later, Here I am trying to devote my entire life to seeing beauty. The dream of becoming a seaman has sailed far from me now, but I know, the love of beauty will sailor me for the rest of my life. *wink!*

"I had a bird I took care of but his cage turned unhealthy for him, I set him free". As she tries to hold her tears, I know those words nailed everything she wanted to say.

Now, is the aftermath of a life after her. The chapter in my book of life where I found direction, where I felt security and where I was warmth with love.. has ended. My life on track, as I fly free, is vanished in the thin air.Just like the old days, here I come again, terrified by the brewing summer storm hidden from my view.

I sometimes ask myself, "why is this twisted tale?" "why is this personality?". She gave me everything but "what kind of price catch in life am I after?". As I go through, I realize that there are amazingly difficult things to wrap our brains around, just like modern science with sophisticated tools to answer its questions and satisfy its curiosity having, ..still, its own holy grail. That is, even after all the laws of physics come together, there are things science can barely understand.

I can see beauty somehow, and I guess, thats the reason why I sometimes find myself trying to overindulge with those questions. I know the answers are beautiful, and just like the most beautiful characteristic of beauty for me, the answers are, skin deep. I know, the answers may just be hidden deep within me or is just around, in a cunning disguise. That makes life beautiful, full of surprises.

If we are to recreate everything, we sure want to make it ideal, so surreal with some dreamy effect on it. But life is justt not like that, it is real and is not ideal, for most. Life has breaking points.

Everything happens for a reason, and what happened, is just something we cannot rewrite. Every turning point is significant and I dont blame myself much for my decisions, for I know, that at one point, thats what I wanted. I want her to gain back all the love for herself that she lost when she found me.

She is one the most beautiful things that happened to me, and this is a thank-you-for-everything. I want her to feel that she has moved me to be a better person and that our story will always thrill me and will keep me on the edge of my seat in every time I go back and read our story. The difference between life and death is just a blink of an eye. I want everything to be back in place, I want our story to be a lullaby as she falls asleep, soundly and securely, before I leave in the dead of the night, before the bird fly far away, before I cease seeing beauty of life, before Im a dead meat.


History Repeats Itself

History Repeats Itself

I dont know but I really wanted to know why "history repeats itself". For years and years, I thought everything is circular.. and as we move around the circle, same things happen. Then I thought, "wheres the room for progress?"

Dejavu. I always experience dejavu when I was in high school. For several times a week, I find myself saying "parang nagyari na to..!?" Same set up, same people, same instances same things happen every now and then. Could it possibly because I have lived sometime before? I dont believe in reincarnation though, I believe in after life. I became so curious with "history repeats itself". Eventually dejavu vanished.

Not a week ago, a friend of mine called and said "man, lets have a little drink dito sa kila benjie, Im throwing a small party". I was invited to their little reunion. Later I realized that its been six years now since they haven't seen each other, since they graduated from a respected maritime school in Bicol. There we are, while I feel a little awkward, talking bout how's life going. I have learned that these people have been to the most beautiful places in the world being seamen. I was amazed not by who they are now after college but how they present themselves not to mention that they once run and ruled their school publication.

Emman, the one who invited me, was once the editor in chief of their school paper and is now taking a masteral course. We have the same firstname, he is of my own age and were both from bicol. I listen when he talks and I felt like I somehow talk just like him as if I have the same state of mind he has, or at least I was trying to. I look at him and I said "maybe this is who Im gonna be if my father had a little dream for me." Then there was dejavu. I felt like this set up happened already. I share them a story.

Its kind of refreshing to absorb new ideas from these peole. They are men of subtance. Inspite of success their personalities were preserved and they talk in the same basic manner just like it was six years ago. Military tough but sensible. They made me proud Im from bicol.

The feeling that this has happened before is getting convincing. Then the thing I wanted to learn started to resonate. History repeats itself. I tried to think why dejavu suddenly struck me again from nowhere. Then there was an immense flash back. Old pictures, old music, old feelings, old hate.. then it stopped. It stopped at "maybe he is who Im gonna be if my father had a little dream for me" and "wheres the room for progress?". These two things kept on resonating.

Something frightened me. When I was young I have learned that ghost frightens someone and it keeps on coming back because it got a message. I remembered, before dejavu struck me I felt hate.. I know I haven't really freed myself from it yet and I know, I havent really learned from it. I knew there was a message and eventually, it helped me unearth the answer to my question. Our lives are not circular.. ghosts keep on coming back because we haven't got their message yet. History repeats itself because we have not learned from our past yet. If we refuse to learn from our mistakes, we are bound to repeat history.


I blend in

I blend in

I blend in.
Most of them havent even finish high school but i know..educational attainment isnt really a requirement in a good friendship.Cases of beers and some sessions of good talks built it up. A two month old building called friendship, which I thought.. could be unbreakable. We all have the right to be a friend of anyone and to anyone. I prefer them to be my friend.

These people are not likely to be agreeable and likable from a personal note of a middle class person, but not for me. They are of my own age, generation and society. I gave it a shot. I blend in.

Individual differences battled its way to show up. I respect our differences. I did not elevate myself. Im not a kind of person who steals the limelight, always "bida", bragger or wanna-be-on-top. I would rather be a soft spoken tiny little thing in the basement than someone shouting and bragging how high he is at the top, on the roof top of that something we built. I was expecting they're gonna be the same.. and, they did not. I knew something is wrong.

These people made me feel at home since I moved in. "tol, dito walang gagalaw sayo.. kami bahala" So good to be true and as bizarre as it became. Trust and refraining myself from being judgmental made me overlook something. I havent seen the other side of them lurking in the darkness of who they really are. I lost my phone.

The very next day, I talked to them and tried to bug their conscience.With their contradicting words, I was picking up the pieces of a broken idea. Eventually, I knew who did it.. but they got something unbreakable and it cloaked the truth of what happened, concealing the Crook. That something is symbolized by a mark, a scar from a burning-red coin stroked on their skin for that glorifying ugly scar as a badge of their brotherhood. It apparently got in their veins and went up to their brains carrying an idea of "becoming untouchable" . A kind of education Ill be ashamed of bearing.

Each one of them fabricated their own stories trying to get themselves off the hook, but eventually they screw their own stories up and gave them hell. They got my phone back concealing the villain."wla na sakin yun, nabalik nman na eh". Making them think I let them off the hook. I keep my distance. At the back of my mind, lady gaga is saying, "trust is like a mirror, you can fix it but you will still see the cracks on that moda*#f*k*g reflection". So simple yet so true.

Realizing who these people are made me think "I made a mistake". Thats a little uncertain until I found both of them ruined by alcohol, squabbling over something right in front of me. I tried to cool down the situation, "tol, bukas nalang tau magusap usap, parepreho na kasi tayong nakainom" in a soft and humble tone. Then a fist wrapping a stone smack me right in my face. Right at that moment, they know they've just lost a friend. I found my aviator shades useful for two weeks.

Im somewhere in the map between living life and obligation. Its where things happen, unexpected.. but planned to teach us lessons. Nonetheless, I like this lesson more than that of having a good old educated friend I trusted who turned out to be someone I really really dont know.

Learning is interesting isnt it?

Ang Aking Paglalakbay

Ako'y napaluhod, sa di kalayuang paglalakbay
pasan ay ang bigat ng kahapong di matagumpay
mula sa lagablab ng araw sa bumbunan ay nais magpahinga
isang basong tubig ay di maipagpapalit sa magandang dalaga.

Buhay ay isang malawak at tigang na lupain
na ng isang magsasaka'y di nanaising ariin
sa lupay di matuloy ang mahiyaing pawis sa pagpatak
minimithi'y pahinga sa pagkakalugmok sa pagtahak.

Sa paglingon ay di na matanaw ang tahanang pinanggalingan
ng isang dati'y batang paslit na naghangad ng tagumpay
pangakoy naalala sa pagtingalang nagnanais pumigil sa luha
Ina, akoy magbabalik ng buo at maayos, nais kitang maging masaya.

Ang tatag ng isang puno sa gitna ng inita'y nagbibigay ng lilim
akoy nahalina't sa pagkakasandal ay napahimbing
laman ng panaginip ay paguwi ng tagumpay na sa sarili'y pinangako
sariliy kikilalanin, katatagpuin duon sa kabilang dako.

Sa pagdilat ng mga mata'y may tuwang gumuhit sa nakita
tumambad ay ang takipsilim na napakaganda't nakamamangha
nagpapaalam na araw sa napapagal na katawa'y nagiiwan ng ngiti at pagasa
ako'y magpapatuloy, tutunguhin ang nasa kabila pa ng mundong napakaganda.



Me and my drink on the floor, in front of my machine. 'm lookin at and thinking bout these people around me, they seemed to be balls of fire on diff hues, boasting a lame flame hiding a strong flame. I'm getting tipsy. I like this. Its calibrating my sense. Their recorded words are reverberating. I'm extracting the meaning. Uncloaking the connotation.Very rediscovering.

Tonight is yet another careful evaluation of how I'm gonna deal with these people. Real and Fake. Goodnight.

My Most Embarrassing Experience

"HUUUuuuuuMANAaaY!!!!!!!!!!", a call from the quadrangle of our school. We all know the drill and with less than a minute, there we are, all lined up, right at the center of the quadrangle with our corpse commander in front. A single call that makes the quadrangle filled with junior and senior robots, I mean studes saying "hop, hoe!" hop, hoe "left, ryt" left, ryt!".

I was a senior student then, old enough for the drills, but young enough to experience the most embarrassing experience of my life. Let me tell you more about that...

We had a subject called PMT (puppet military training), I mean, Preliminary Military Training. When
the clock hits 5, the HUuuMANAAAaaaY!!! will be heard and the juniors and seniors will come rushing
to where Mr. Huuumanaay is, lining up into platoons. Every platoon has their own Puppeteer ( I mean Officer), checking the attendance before they start yelling their lungs out!..

For an hour, we will be practicing the, "patakda, na!" where we suppose to start walking like robots
and the "pulutong, hinto!" where we should stop walking and stand fixed without a single motion. At times, we will be toy soldiers carrying a riffle saying "hop, hoe!" " hop, hoe" and will turn right or left
with our remote controll yelling "harap sa kanan, harap!" or "harap sa kaliwa, 'rap!". All these, in a snappy rhythmic cadence, otherwise, youll hear the "give me two weeks" and that's 14 push-ups, or "three weeks!" for 21 , or more. Same punishment for lousy, unprepared, "pasaway" ,etc.

So there was I, one of the robots who cant even scratch his *****( because of punishment that could bring shame after the session), hearing all the yelling and doing all the robot thing. But before that, let me go back just a bit...

Earlier that day, I was having trouble with my belt buckles( the hinge is kind of broken) and loose pants. My mother told me, "sa sunod an tayo bili anak, pwede pa yan". Well, I can do nothing but to convince myself with" Be happy with what you have".

Huumanaaay!! and the campus is clouded with dust after the sound of thousand Horse's feet. I was there standing among the robots of platoon Alpha (for cute guys..hehe), worrying about my broken buckles and loose pants. Well, it wasn't long before I have forgotten about that "anxiety" because someone has brightened-up my day^^,. That cute girl on the girls platoon Ive been eying..^^

At the middle of the session, our officer may have noticed that we were doing good so we were given 4 mins to quench and fix ourselves. Right at that moment, the girls platoon is right at our back, which I haven't noticed bytheway. " Men!! you got 4 mins to quench and fix yourselves, tuck your clothes in emman!". " Now, harap sa likod, 'harap!"

We were just waiting for the signal "Go!" to get the 4 mins "rest" started, when my buckles gave up and my loose pants fell-off.( Jan pu nagunaw ang mundo ko mga kapuso). I was there, with my pants down, FACING the platoon of girls.

My blood came rushing-up from my feet all the way up to my head " na parang sasabog sa kahihiyan!!" as the girl Ive been eying is right in front of me who cant seem to look anywhere down my chest..haha!!
I later realized it all happened because I wasn't wearing my lucky brief^^( or should I say, I wasnt wearing any brief....but boxer) ..haha!!

We became friends after..hehe..

My Most Unforgettable Experience

"Don, katayin mo nga yung dumalaga natin". I hesitated it though it wasn't my first time to dress/butcher a live chicken but my father told me so, so I had to. I had to prepare it for dinner.

Almost every morning I throw a hand-full of rice grains at our the backyard to feed our chicken. I love to see those young little chicks feeding with their mother Hen. Each of them pecking every grain they see. It was nice to see them growing up though I would like to see them remain as young chicks as they are.
Among those little chicks I had one favorite. The one which was so "makulet" and mabait and cute.

Time came, they were all grown up and about to be sold. When a buyer comes, I choose which one to be sold and intentionally, I had my favorite one left.

My father may have noticed that we have one left and we had nothing for dinner. Its been quite a long time since our last 'native-chicken tinola', so he uttered, "don, katayin mo yung dumalaga natin".

I really hated the fact that I have to kill and slaughter my favorite chicken, but I cant do anything, they were all expecting for a delicious tinola by dinner.

It wasnt hard to catch my favorite chicken coz it was "mabait". After my hundreds of apologies to it, I had my little brother clip the wings as I grab the feet and hold it a little up-side down. The edge of the knife hasnt touched the neck of the chicken yet but my eyes were becoming itchy and feels like a pail of water wants to come out of it.

I dont want to be scolded by my father, so I just closed my eyes as I gently began making a slit on its neck . Its blood started dripping down the bowl and along is my pail of tears. It was followed by another hundreds of apologies, followed by a goodbye. I covered its head by putting it underneath its wings.

I set it aside as I prepare a boiling water where the chicken will be soaked to dress it. I prepared the ingredients as waited for the water to boil.

When the water is done, I went back to get the chicken to soak it, but to my surprise! the chicken was GONE!!!! I dont have any idea as to who took the chicken. I asked anyone possible if they happen to see who took the chicken from the kitchen, but to my dismay, none of them had any idea. We all started looking for it anywhere possible but we all failed.

After a moment, I hear a chicken crowing a little coarse, then I hear my little sister saying" kuya may manok duon sa likod" I then saw my chicken feeding like it was before.

I didn't know what to feel, my chicken is somewhat saying " This might be the last time I will make you laugh"



Thanks for seeing me

I am sick.I didn't know. It all started when my body clock changed..well, because of TP. I cant blame my job now, so I blame it on coffee,("hey! what did you do to me?").I then wanted to get rid of it..found it hard, I did it gradually.., the the sweets, chocolates and late night movie-watching. It may have helped somehow but not to the point of having the ability to sleep so soundly. Well, staying up is totally fine for me, I love night, I'm just sick and tired of ineffective sugar-rush in the morning to keep me up. I cant help it. The sun is hurting my eyes, my eyelids become so heavvvy. I want to enclose myself somewhere dark, so I can rest, for years.

Ive got a disease, its chronic and its becoming severe. Now, Im just waiting for a more severe and obvious symptoms, the lengthening of my fangs, becoming mysterious and becoming totally handsome.. oh forgive me, I just feel tat it requires becoming one . I dont know but vampire movies caught my regular late night movie-watching. Im starting to realize that I really liked them, love them from a worth-a-watch movie thought.

They, one night, came into my imagination before I realized they found a shelter. Enchanting as the night, their eyes, strong personality, belief and attitude I found irresistible. Charismatic. So modern now.
I noticed the"why cant I sleep" question has gone. I close my eyes and clear my mind. I felt something, an attachment. Bond. Life. Brotherhood. Then saw something. It was there.
A mass hysteria I figured I didn't resist joining. I'm one. Ive been. I just realized it.

Good life

Pen rubbing against the paper. Clock ticking. Sounds. Words running, bouncing at every wall of my mind. Me, being with myself.
I just went out and had my dinner. Saw only few people in the street. Went back and puff some "lights."
What a lovely night. I can feel the satiety, a body satisfied by my favorite tapsilog. Yawning and stretching, relieving my muscles reminded me of a good life, over this cold night.
Summarizing. Pretty much what happened today is ordinary. Same day, same pressures, same worries, same me. I remember, being ordinary is what scares most of American youngs, just like how birds hate scarecrows. But out of this ordinary scene, I guess I’m omitting something.
I always feel that Im being left behind. I always feel na wla akong nararating. I sometimes feel the word “success” nags me. A pressure.
I took a deep breath , right at the point where I cant take more air, I hold my breath. I see an immense number of pictures flashing though. Natigilan ako, then I smile, breathing out.
Worries can make you overlook things you should be thankful of. This night makes me realize that success doesn’t mean financial triumph, a title or position.. or an elevated social status.
Sometimes success comes in small things. Small things from few people who make me realized I’m successful in some ways, especially.. by having them. Small things that mean a lot for me,
Out of ordinary day, out of ordinary people and out of ordinary friends you’ll get to know a one in a million. In this world where people come and go, time and situation filter the million into a few. Just like this night who revealed those few in the street who stayed up out of thousands of passersby by day. Millions into a few through the screening process of adversity.
Out of this few that I have, someone said, “sino ba cla? Employer lang sila”. A strong thought from someone who knows that friendship is a more permanent concept than a title, a position or a job. Im not lucky for having a decent job but for having a friend who is one in a million. He is pretty much an advisor, a boss, “utangan”, “kainuman”, “barkada”..but is best described by the word friend. Bob. A person who never elevate himself, someone worth looking up to. That’s Bob. A super down to earth humble friend who, in front of bottles of redhorse, I celebrate the thing I have overlooked with. A good life.




Very seldom you’ll be meeting someone who will impress you.
I did, keep her.. And lose her in the end.sad one.
Fast food is a place of good food, fast service and nice crews
..But for me? it is where I met the person who impressed me. That’s where I met her.
I was eighteen then when I began waking up to go to work. Quality, quick moving crews, fake smiles etc. are the things one will usually see and feel in the workplace, but I found something else..
I found myself thinking of this young lady who manages to go to school and go to work despite of stress. a girl who doesn’t know the meaning of weary and tiredness. someone who keeps a kind of power somewhere within. an energy that i felt and ’somewhere’ that I would like to know. Intriguing.
so i began learning things about her. “There’s something bout you i would like to know” i said, she smiled and that’s how the story begin.
a pretty familiar feeling aroused. I started to walk beside her, counted several months and the offer was accepted. There are lots of thing we have shared and being on the usual ups and downs, I begin to know her and I began seeing a beautiful person in her.
A very understanding, loving, caring and..sum1 who’s giving up everything for me is who i found i am welcoming to my life. I haven’t met one before. I was
thankful for everything but i can feel something, a guilt. I have loved somebody who made me promised to myself I’m going to look for myself and and will be back to love her. That’s where the sin is. I was thinking that what’s happening is just a part of the plan, engraved in my mind. Scarred in my heart.
But, something was telling me something.I can feel the warmth of her hug, security on her shoulder and i can taste sweetness of her smile. it erases everything, the voice that says “don’t worry”.
Someone came to erase the scar.
As you grow up you’ll find unbelievable things. Bout yourself. some are good some are not. Family, work, future and girls are all what’s on my mind. Different ideas are travelling so fast as i try to catch the time while i do the pantry, attend to the beeping fryer in the kitchen, bread some chicken and everything. fast-food. Among all of these multitasking and fast food requirements, one had been my favorite, to smile.
The store moving so fast slows down as i glance at her and feel a smile somewhere within. very comforting. Then, the ache strikes again, till i get home and feel her hug.
Without her, everything is pain and confusion.
Being on the usual ups and downs, our relationship climbs up to the next levels. Still what I see is a beautiful soul. I have realized an addiction, pretty earthly but it was all welcomed and fed. She is amazing. I know what’s happening, i like it. but something really bothers me, what about this thing I can’t take off my mind? and why cant I? I know what I want..but do i know who
Am i? With all of the info bout life and me moving in my mind..do i know what can i do?
This confusion attracts the nightmare. I don’t know myself yet. Realizing something bout yourself brings pain. But that’s who you are, got to have to accept it before you can change it. What’s the unacceptable is, having someone affected by this.
it breaks my heart to see her crying as i tell the truth about what happened with me and someone who happened to be my other self. she is dark, she can get what she wants. Pretentious, that’s how she project at least. I was blinded. Who would know she can make me cross the borderline and shot me from there. I didn’t know she can. I was all confused. I just woke up, and she’s there feeding my addiction.
she was a girl who happened to be the best one, one can ever have as a friend, friend is how she calls it. Friendship is what we have. she is the other me. Well I believed. She was there, from the beginning of the story. “a true friend is a friend who can stab you in front”. When I look at the mirror, she was in there and said “you don’t know yourself yet” ..not verbally.(this part is a bit confusing but it was about a girl who happened to be my best who unknowingly want something unwanted to happen)
angels and devils by dishwalla is my favorite song.but angels are not for devils, i know. for many reasons an angel can’t stay with a devil. but what’s this?
I can feel a beautiful soul by my side; I can feel she is there. A soul so broken.
Who is coming back to be fixed.
I am the eldest among my siblings. I have a sense of being responsible somehow.
A devil with a sense of responsibility is what I am. and, this time, i know I am responsible for fixing a broken heart. After everything that I have done, of all that happened, she welcomed me back with all of her heart. For another year, I’ve been a good one. Gently and gradually, i tried to heal the wounds I caused. Together we tried to bring back the old times. I hope to end the story ends here.
“Reality bites” ..and it hurts, for someone who can endure the pain..life is real.
That’s what i like about her. She lives in a real world, she knows what she wants, she knows how to love.. She knows herself. I adore her. I love her.
Why did I hurt such a good heart? i said. Clearly, there is no problem with her. its with me that i have to resolve. This is a kind of a long process, and as you find yourself, u will be hurt.. Many will be hurt. but with me? there is one thing i pretty sure of.. I’m going to find myself but I cannot let myself see her crying again. I remembered a promise the time we were both crying, when i shook my head on her shoulder and water came out of my eyes and fell on the ground. Water that made a promise sprouted.
“I’ll never let this things happen again”.
for more than two years she have never shown any weariness, I haven’t heard what i was expecting.”I’m tired of you”. That’s what she was, the first time i met her in KFC. A girl who doesn’t how to get tired of anything. Someone who keeps a power within. Someone who knows how to love so deeply and use its power to change a life. I was changed by her. But I know, I need to know a lot of things about me first. I need to know how to find myself and to love myself so I can love her back. “If you love a person you should know how to set her free”.

first love fustration

..SCAR is not olweiz bad of having., it sumtimes reminds us of not how
painful it is to be wounded but how we got wounded and healed. I got
one, let me show it to you.

It was on my high school days when i noticed this funny little
feeling.Its crazy, kinda..tickling. I got to know a young beautiful
girl. Shes this innocently brilliant shy girl.

As time passes we become friends, ..unexpectedly close friends, but ..were open, .I dont know., basta sumthing like that,

..from sharing notes,thought, stories ..bout our experiences,
and..everything , we end up exchanging poem. fOr threE years almoSt, we
have shared everything exept for OnE thing ..feeling.

days, mos., yeaRs passed.It was fast, fast enAf that it didnt let me think of a happy ending for my last story..

iT was daRk, gloomy lights and noise of of graduation ball have
done nothing to cheer me up. I Thougt it was the glitters but I notice
iT was water in the corner of my eyes bein strucked by the lights, that
provoked the feeling.

aFter some seconds, painful words get in to my ears "..im leaving to
california" i smiled and gave her my last story "its not done yet"..i
said(that was the title also) ,it took a couple of mins, she looked at
it, gave it back to me and said "please have it ended" .and leave

..fRom then on, I havnt heard of anything bout her. mY world doomed, numb and dull my life went on..

I know its way too late to tell her "iM tired of bein your friend,
wud you be my girl?" .while giving the last letter., ..that,
unknowingly iv been practicing in one corner of my mind.

nEver imagined how a soft, crazy, sweet, funny feeling wud be bItter an painful,sharp enaf to leave me wounded.

i jUst woke up one day and realized tHat God gave me someone two
years ago to heal my wound and to turn it into a scar, a mark that now
seemed to be a word "joice " the girl who swept me off my feet..

i know sumday, she wil be reading this ..now that the story already ended, ..now that its done..

after six years..

(on my desk)

I couldn’t agree more, life is
so ironic. I just realize another episode of life’s sarcasm. Why’d you
have to meet someone and feel an utmost affection where indeed, after
six years, will turn out to be pointless?. An absurd apologue of my
first ‘Roses and Chocolates’. My first acne.

Alcohol isn’t really sweet,
life’s irony made it. every shot I take, a desire to find an answer,
and I find even answers criticize. Was it my fault for not having her
mine? well, maybe irony isn’t really the contrary that twists the
truth. its with the truth, only hard to see. and when you see, even
harder to take. Tough life.

It was my herculean task that
faced this irony for bringing “that’s life” to a reason. And when the
herculean me thought the hysteria has just been overcomed, another
tragedy was about to unfold. I witness how can irony be extremely and
sarcastically Ironic, before my eyes..”ang cute nung baby nya, kamukha
ko”. Then the pinch in my heart ironically caused me to smile. Ironic,
C’est la Vie.


(after that phone call)

Reminisce the feeling. Old, but still funny.
Faded, but sweet still.Painful but draws a smile. Gone but left traces.
Thought all hopes were long gone, but it just did.

Cuteness, purity, innocence I’ve longed, blinded
me. I click the shutter and thats so her, six years ago, that I see.
All convinced it was wrong, I opened my eyes. Thought I see the world
clearly under the clouded sky. Sky so hidden, a hope that I thought not
existing, blurred my sight. Smoke that gets into my eyes and caused it
damp. Then the just I hear in me straightens the path so I can walk.

The telephone rang before a pail of cold water
damped me awake. The truth that utters an increasing decibel from a
high note, deafening me from somewhere. I can hear it nearing and it
will eat me. I’m trembling from the sound of the fact I can barely hear
that’s shutting me off. My system is weakened and defeated by the
frequency I cant handle and dropped me down to my knee. Nightmare had
eaten me.

“She already have a baby”. Now I have to let
go of the hope that blurs, wake up in a fluvial lonely lake where the
clouded sky of hope pours down. goodbye joice..


I remember the first poem i wrote for you
written by innocent feeling of naive Romeo
I had a hard time with words only to describe you
sweet words piled up flaunting a feeling so true.

A funny little poetry that rhymes every end of each line
Made me up all night relating ur beauty with the moonshine
In my mind was a story about “there’s you and me”
In a world so beautiful and only imaginary.

If I can bring back that time for even just a minute
Ill give you that poem and i will not replace it
With the one that I made to offer only friendship
You should have known my feelings i shouldnt have kept it.

And now, after six years of missing my Juliet
I am writing a new poem of not love but regret
coz the ten years of being Romeo of my fairy tale has faded.
“she was my Juliet but im not her Romeo” is how the story ended.


about a Crush

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It is sometimes fun to look back to some of interesting things that happened to your cruel life..(hehe), to bring up some smiles when you are down. Let’s say a crush.. maybe, *toinkz* haha.. well she is now on the other side of the world so..hmm, I remember this one time when we had a little “inuman” at ZYLCS (a small local tambayan just about some steps away from TP with a fascinating a little bit of romantic ambience and soul healing aroma of a scented candle, which I don’t know where is located by the way, and with a green scented papers on the tables(or I don’t know if just a jar of vanilla spilled on it). There was I, a little tipsy.. the brew may have overcomed my shyness and kacornihan took over, don’t know how to express the little admiration, grab a pen (that kuya had given to maybe reveal the purpose of the papers) and does some drawing on the table covering(which was the scented paper). I guess I would like to thank the owner for that that nice gimmick, an idea that helped me express my attention-hungry admiration. So, going back to the drawing.. it was a figure of a girl that I mentioned them my “dream girl” that im estimating as the inuman goes on, and.. just when I’m about to finish my little drawing, I told my friend who covers some details of my crush, “ dude, excuse nman..di ko makita ung ginagawa ko eh”. She may have noticed im throwing an eye at her (a survey of my canvass) while doing the little drawing ..so hmm, I guess.. yun na un..hehe,
A super down to earth girl of a beautiful design who you’ll love to spend break time and yosi break with. Well, it is her birthday and I haven’t gotten to talk to her since our TP days, I would like to do another drawing as a corny gift but I guess I wouldn’t be able to mail it to her so… I guess let me just sketch it this way.

I stumble upon, a beautiful design
Of an art so stunning, pleasingly inviting
From the other side of the fence, there was I staring
On a charming scene with the little flower I am admiring

Arrested was I, for it made me smile
My eyes are caught every time I pass by
Attached is a feeling that suggests an admiration
Lingering on mind, teasing a sweet little affection.

Days are brighter in every time I gaze
at this dainty sight, I am agreeingly amazed
If I can just pick it up, I know I certainly would
Ill jump over, but wait, “over da bakod?”

Oh my God, what Im thinking will be an offense
for it belongs to someone at the other side of the fence
but I want it so badly, though it can never be mine
“for your eyes only”, God!, I have overlooked your sign.

Oh boi, frustrated I was, detaching my sight
To the lovely YOU Im convinced one of a kind
Frustrated was I, looking at the field of flowers
Its another YOU, is what I hope I can find

All dismayed I went back for another gaze
coz I found that not a single flower is close to your likeness
I went back yet another frustration unfold
dull and lifeless scene is now what my eyes behold

The rose was taken to show more of its beauty
from a rose of reality into a painting so dreamy
the rose that once on the other side of the fence for my seeing
is now pleasing the other side of the world and now only for my dreaming.



A credit to ice

A tree. The sun setting. A man sitting by the tree..looking blankly at world painted by the blood of the sun as it says goodbye to the him.
Whenever I look at a picture of a sunset, I feel peace and it makes my heart smile. I just love this scenery.

I havent gotten to write something about anything these days. I was busy drowning myself with music. I plug my headset in and volume it all up. dont want to hear thier voices, thier words that cant seem to get out of the walls in my head, they are bouncing back and forth. I didnt know I was really busy till i got tired and felt that i wanted to rest.

I fell like im back to my kfc days, days when I know no other music but alternative. Looking around, browsing some profiles, entertaining myself with the pictures of some old friends, wondering whats so exciting bout them nowadays. I see some of them are still playing for thier bands, wla a silang kinikita but they are really happy creating thier music and drowning thier souls with it. I was really trying to keep myself busy.

I was still floating on the last note of the last song when I got a message saying "hello, nice meeting you. i see you are a poet. it's nice. i used to be one. im ice" from someone with a dark clown on her profile. I first thought he/she is someone I know, I even thought she was joice coz she goes by icy and i guess she will greet me with the same words..if ever. We had to talk for hours before i realized that she was really not who I was suspecting, that she a complete stranger. then she goes,"I wish you could be my friend. just here not in the real world. just someone who doesn't know me, whom i could bravely share my stories with. and you can do the same" . It was folowed by a brave conversation. "I would say pareho tayo in most way, I guess. We both know that solitude is addictive. I was surpised to know na mas bata ka sakin, u seemed to know a lot, way much than I do.. U are very intriguing, I guess nakikita ko ang sarili ko if I happened to be a girl" I said. It went on and I didnt know I started bursting out lahat ng sama ng loob ko, little by little. We talk about almost anything "I agree with you..those are beatiful..even death. death is not a sin..unless you cause your own death, thats immoral. marami na ang nabighani ng ganda ng kamatayan, too bad its late for them to realized they will end weeping..lured by the captivating beauty of death. well., i guess napagbigyan ko na ang galit ko, tapos na yon para sakin.." sabi ko. Around 2am, nakatulog nako.

It wa a little spooky, we just talked about death the last time and she said "my aunt died . just yesterday. but she had been sick for nearly one year." on the new message i got. I extended my condolence.

Something got me thinking. what would it be like? how does does it feel saying goodbye to the world.
Then I remember the sun..then the man, then the most beautiful feeling i can ever describe. The sunset.
I know I want to be there someday. The man, ..sitting by the tree, possesing the most beatiful feeling... with eyes gradually shutting and heart melting down ..by the overflowing beauty his eyes can behold..cherishing the sweetness of the sunset air, making it up as his sight blurs and eyes shut. Completely.

"Im really amazed by your words and pretty much the way you are, and guess you're brave enough to talk about "death". but you know, death is beautiful..the reason why I like goth music and the only thing gothic music suggests. Im not even afraid of it. nakakatakot cguro isipin how are you going to die, but death itself, no. just put Him in your heart, youll realized you dont have to be afraid it. We both are too young for this wold to perish, we have to write a shelf-full of stories pa. I just want to share something bout that word which is pretty much close to dark, night, emo, goth and solitude which best describe the thing that we both have, both into.
also, I dont know but the emo kind of beauty or gothic beauty really captures me. we both or I guess we all have dark sides inhibiting our bodies and it is cool to know to know that im sharing thoughts about this with someone on the other side of this computer..
very seldom do I talk like this to my friends." -eman.

now playing:

Tulog Na - Sugarfree Mp3

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