Whispers on the 7th

Life is 

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andtoofuckingconfusingtounderstandreally.

So lie to me.

Lie to me as I lie to myself.

Say something wrong. Say something right.

Pour out words as bittersweet as these precious moments.

Lie to me.

Lie to me as you lie next to me,

As you hold me close, let me embrace you more.

As you gently caress, let me touch your soul.

Lie to me.

Lie to me this once as I hold you in my hands

and drink in your presence, your scent,

the softness of your shirt, the beating of your heart.

Lie.

Lie as oft as this clock 
whose time is right 
twice a day.

Lie.
I've got nothing to lose
but the nonexistence of us
anyway.

“Much unhappiness has come into the world because of bewilderment and things left unsaid.” 
― Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Twenty-four Lessons ver. 2.0

Somebody pointed out that I had two #12's in my previous post. (Did you guys notice? I definitely didn't. Blaming it on the lambanog!) Another friend of mine also pointed out that the lessons I have listed down, while "inspiring and really cute" (rolling my eyes right now), have nothing to do with romantic love. Admittedly, I went all ??? and then realized that maybe I am skirting that particular aspect of my life.

Thus, I am posting version 2.0 of my twenty-four lessons post. Yes, this one will contain some stuff I have realized over the years in that particular department. Not all, though. I think I haven't learned enough in that aspect of my life. (Though I am in denial and I refuse to believe that. :P) Some are kind of recycled (from my Twitter account), but all original (or as original as general, life-inspirational verses can be). Enjoy!

24. Learn how to count...your blessings. LOL. But seriously, learn how to count your blessings. Your mistakes. The lessons you've learned from them.

23. Also, learn how to count the chances you've been given and the risks you've taken. Just to keep you on your toes and to remind you that you are neither lucky nor unlucky forever.

22. When you take responsibility, take it whole or none at all. Own it, the way you'd own that new designer pair of shoes you just bought using all your bonus pay. And, when you feel like you're going to explode with all that "owning," remember that...

21.  ...there is nothing that chocolate can't fix. Or ice cream. Or beer. Or tequila. Choose your poison. But...

20. ...know that there is nothing better than children's laughter/smiles/hugs to make all the tiredness go away. The wonder on their wide, innocent eyes when you tell them about the Three Little Pigs. The trust in their voice when they say "Yes, Teacher!" The earnest way they wave "Good bye!" Oh, joy! When was the last time you talked to a kid? :)

19. Dress up for yourself. Don't believe that all "dress up 'cause you never know who you'll meet out there." crap. I mean, there is some truth in that, but dress up for yourself first and foremost. It's your skin you're covering up (or revealing) anyway.

18. Avoid unnecessary drama. It is saddening but quite important to let go of friends who bring even more chaos and confusion to your already chaotic and confusing world.

17. Yes, everyone's newest mantra "Keep calm and [insert another action here]" works wonders most of the time. The phrase may just be a trend, but poise and grace under pressure are timeless.

16. And, yes, there are just some things that you cannot fix. Remember that and try not to feel all too guilty about it. Especially if you tried...and if you have tried really hard already.

15. Don't play games if you're not ready to lose. Also, don't play games only to brag about your conquests or your prizes. And don't play games if you don't know the rules or if you can't follow them. Then again, it is human nature not to follow rules. Alas, don't play games at all.

14. Flirting is an art: it is viewed and interpreted in many, many ways, and not everyone understands it. Enjoy, but be careful.

13. Also, experience is not only the best teacher, but also the most beautiful of masterpieces. Art becomes better as we grow older. Or, rather, more mature.

12. Trust your instinct. Most of the time, it is more trustworthy than the people around you.

11. It is not true that people do not judge. They do. Every time. I do, and I'm pretty sure you do, too. It is, however, up to you to decide what to do with your perceptions.

10. When things go sour, mourn. It's not a sign of weakness. Admit it: by then, you'd know that you already are weak. It's your first step to regaining your strength.As cliche as it sounds, everything really does happen for a reason. And all these reasons are revealed in time.

9. There are times that it is better to not read between the lines and take things as it is. As John Mayer said in one of his songs: Anything other than 'yes' is 'no.' / Anything other than 'stay' is 'go.' / Anything less than 'I love you' is lying. I know, I know, men are from Mars and women are from Venus, but we're all people here who would probably seek for clarity when the time arises. When that time comes, all should speak but one language.

8. Smile at other people's indecisiveness. Remember that you, too, are guilty of this once in a while.

7. Cheaters never win. Despite the prepositions that may come with the dreadful verb.

6. Revenge births such powerful motivation to act. When you feel vengeful, do something positive for yourself.

5. Never ever just settle. You're not doing anybody any favors and you're selling yourself short at the same time. Being single and happy is infinitely better than being with someone and miserable.

4. Some of the love you feel never goes away. But it does transform into something else: friendship, care, trust, faith...hope. It sucks when it becomes hate. But it does happen, no matter how sad that sounds.

3. That doesn't mean it can't transform into anything else, though. These transformations may change the way you feel, the way you think, but remember that some may not be as permanent as you think they are. And, when they aren't, don't stand in the way of change.

2. He must make you laugh. Find ways to find laughter with him. Oh, and make him laugh, too. :)

1. Believe that you will find love. Only, sometimes, it might not be with another person. Love is all around you. Loneliness, just like happiness, is so relative.

An even longer period of silence

I have always respected people who decide to keep silent even when the world begs them to speak up. I guess it's because I know how it feels like. There have been moments in my life when I was forced to voice my opinions and make decisions when I felt so lost and would've chosen to just shut my trap and not make a choice at all.

It can be viewed as immature and even irresponsible, I know. I cannot deny the fact, though, that sometimes it's better to hold your tongue even when your head is full of thoughts that need sorting out. Perhaps that's it: sometimes, you need to sort them out on your on first before sharing them with anyone. After all, once you've said whatever it is that's running through your mind, it'll be open to interpretation and it'll be very hard to take any of your words back. I made that mistake once. I answered what seems to be very important questions without thinking them through.

I'm still in deep, erm, dirt because of that.

They say the best ideas and most perfect realizations are usually found in complete silence. Sometimes, the only sound that you need to hear is the sound of your mind whirring about, looking for the right solution to your most disturbing problem. I'm taking a page from your book and shutting up. Never mind that we have a lot to discuss. Never mind that I have my own set of questions that I want you to answer. Never mind that I want this over and done with.

Fate has its way of telling you that you have your priorities screwed up. In my case, it presented a new opportunity to make my life as a breadwinner a bit easier. Such a blessing in disguise it was. I was about to self-destruct with all these confusing feelings you've awakened after a relatively long while. So, I am shutting up and focusing on more urgent matters. There are things that are less important, yes, but are much easier to deal with.

I guess dealing with those is my way of getting ready for that time when I need to open up again. Because, yes, I won't hold my peace forever. I will speak again. And, when that happens, you'll be forced to look me in the eye, as I'll be forced to be completely honest with you. You'll stop toying with my feelings, as I yours (though I don't think I ever did do that. Well, at least, not on purpose). We'll answer each other's questions. We'll finally figure out what we have been doing. We'll finally stop haunting each other as if we're each other's own personal ghosts. And I can finally start living again without looking back, hoping that you'll say the words that I want to hear and more. I can finally move on.

For now, I'll just have to endure an even longer period of silence.

Blue and white

They're two ordinary colors, really.

One comes in different shades:
cerulean and cobalt, denim and duke,
maya and majorelle, periwinkle and powder
sapphire and sky and ultramarine.

One with none but its purity
(unless you count ghost white and anti-flash white,
magnolia and old lace, seashell and eggshell,
and ivory and lace).

Two ordinary colors, truly,

Bringing a glimpse of heaven, and the sky, and the sea,
loyalty and purity, and freedom and light,
sincerity and innocence, and faith and spirituality,
and possibility, and inspiration, and perfection.

Bringing a glance of you to me
(together with those happy days and endless nights,
meaningful conversations and unusual anecdotes,
truthful insights and real and true and honest-to-goodness friendship).

Two colors on something named after some fruit,

Just there, on standby...simply there,
simply staring,
simply waiting,
simply wishing.

Just here, in the palm of my hand...actually here
(unlike you who's a thousand miles away,
in your glory and success,
your reality, your truth,
my demise, my pain.)

Two colors I wish I'd see.

To light up my world.
Like a few years ago.
Again.
Again.

Two colors again.

Relapse No. 6

Like a faucet

Turned on

Very similar to the facet of this fact

That needs exploration,

Explanation,

Action.

Did it matter then that it happened

Once upon a time, 

Upon some slithering snakes

Dancing to see who

The real charmer is?

Like a disease

Spreading

Almost the same as a pair of limbs

Accepting and praying

Quickly closing,

Now running.

Does it matter now that a pair ponders

Over bones set into play,

Whilst roaring in delight, disgust

Fighting to see who

The real winner is?

Like a home

Haunted

As her eyes, his touch, their faces

Look confused,

Bruised,

Used.

Will it matter that they have set

The rules, perchance to break,

The stage where a poor soul stands

Waiting to see who

The real man is?

***

Tango (Part 2)

I've fallen for your eyes but they don't know me yet 
And the feeling I forget I'm in love now. 

- Kiss Me, Ed Sheeran

I was afraid and excited and...pretty happy. I knew that that dance would be one hell of a dance the moment you placed your hand on mine.

The first step was perfect -- done at the same time and on the same beat. We spun and waltzed across the dance floor. It was exactly what a tango's supposed to be. It was precise. Passionate. Hot. My eyes have betrayed me: all I can see were glimpses of this and that whizzing past me. Not that I cared that much. My other senses were so...heightened, it was scary. It's as if I can hear a million things at the same time, can feel a million things at the same time. I was having a frighteningly great time.

I couldn't have asked for a better dance partner, too. I can't really describe it, you know? It's like it has this binding magic of its own. You have your own brand of magic. I remember everything in great precision and in a blur, too, if that's even possible. At that time, it didn't matter to me anymore if I were still dancing it right, if I were still moving my feet the way I would've if we were back in the rehearsal studio. Yet you were there to remind me to breathe when I felt like I was about to lose my sanity, to give instructions when I felt like going over the edge, to pull me back when I felt like ignoring the rules of this intricate dance. But I still let the music take over. I let myself loose and danced like I have never danced before. I tried to put as much heart and soul in it without disfiguring the steps, without disregarding the rules.

The dance was almost over when you did something totally unexpected. You improvised. You started going to the left when every book says stay right. After pulling and pulling and pulling me back, you brushed aside the conventional dance patterns, changed our pace and just started really dancing. With me.

Suddenly, it wasn't just about dancing the tango just for the heck of it. It was dancing the tango as if my life depended on it. It was, ultimately, dancing the tango with you.

Tango (Part 1)

You don't have to put on that red light...You don't care if it's wrong or if it is right

- El Tango de Roxanne, Moulin Rouge!

I wanted to dance. I felt it in my bones.

Music was playing. It was loud. But beautiful loud, you know? It made me feel so alive. Each note, each beat, every word. I have never felt like this before. It was something very familiar but something very new. How is that even possible, I wondered. But reason was reduced to nothing but a blur when I heard that old song from not so long ago. Next thing I knew, I was singing. I was humming and I wanted to dance. I was singing and I wanted to tango.

Let me tell you, I really, really wanted to dance. But, for some weird reason, I kept on declining offers. It didn't feel right. No, not with this song. If they have played any other song, I would've gladly danced with them. But not this one. Not this one.

Then, I saw you.

I felt it in a rush. I knew I just had to dance with you. You looked at me from across the dance floor but those glances you threw my way were not enough for me to know for certain if you thought of me competent enough to tango with you. So, I brushed the thought aside and tried to stop myself from raising my hands and dancing to those taunting violin strings.

My song ended and another one began. Brushing aside the disappointment was harder than I thought. I started walking away...

...when you grabbed me by the hand.

And the dance began.

Life's lemons

They say when life gives you lemons, make lemonade.

But what if you're out of sugar and ice? Sometimes, you can't help but feel pessimistic when things are out of your control and, as much as you'd like to remain hopeful that things will be better soon, you lose that cool energy to keep going and that sweet inspiration to get things right again. When this happens, what should you do? Should you still make that lemonade, knowing that it'll taste as bad and sour as the fruit it came from?

Today, I realized that life does not necessarily become better or worse just because a new year has arrived.  You will still be haunted by your past and you cannot start anew unless you have tied up all your loose ends. But is there even a chance in this lifetime for you to drive your demons out of your life? Can you really completely forgive yourself for the pain you have brought not only in your life but also in the lives of the people you care about? Or is finding peace in yourself found only in eternal repose? Are we destined to just admit defeat and feel content with the meager happiness we receive from petty achievements and fleeting memories and bear the mediocrity and/or pain from all the other moments in between?

They say when life gives you lemons, make lemonade. But what if you want a glass of apple juice instead? Do we really have to accept all of life's lemons and not ask, wish, hope, pray, beg for something else? Is it wrong to ask for something totally different, just for a change, just for once?


***
Okay, this is such an emo whine-y post. The next lemon life throws me is definitely ending up with tequila. LOL. Happy new year!

Paradosso

You...

...want to but you don't.

...have to but you won't.

....dream for stars yet kiss the ground.

Tell me, haven't you been around?

...show confidence but is so insecure.

...have a good heart but your thoughts are impure. 

...want to use yet end up abused.

Hey, how did you get here, all so confused?

...hate hellos but loathe good-byes.

...crave for the truth but are comforted by lies.

...desire to kill yet you strive to live.

Why, you don't really know what to believe!

...can't even find the words to write your song

...know that he's been right all along.

...admit it, with a face, tired and gaunt:

Yes, you really don't know what you want.

quod contra opinionem omnium est.

Here's the Deal

Once again, I am talking about something that I apparently have an excess of: feelings. Honestly, if feelings were money, I'd be the richest gal in town.

More often than not, our emotions get the best of us.

They always say that there's a reason why the head is placed above the heart, and not the other way around. I always thought that this was coincidental, the believer of dreams and the hopeless romantic that I am. I kept on thinking Oh, c'mon. If I were supposed to use my head most of the time, if not always, then, why is it that my heart is in the center of...well, everything? 

Lately, though, I've been thinking this over and, now, I'm not exactly sure. I have always been the "follow your heart's desire" type of girl but, time and again, I've been slapped with concrete evidence that this does not work for most people. Especially if your heart is filled with feelings so fleeting...so fleeting, you can almost feel them slip through your fingers.

Yes, sometimes, our emotions get the best of us. The intensity of our feelings, of our emotions, can be too much for our little hearts to hold. Because of this, we often end up feeling too overwhelmed and we end up making bad decisions. And bad choices often lead to bad consequences.

I always thought that when you feel something -- and when it feels like it's something really special -- you should act on it. Now that I'm older (and perhaps a bit smarter), I've realized that emotions, especially very intense ones, should be left alone until they have either subsided or have grown to something even more spectacularly overwhelming. I think I now have a better idea on the concept of "the real thing"...and it's not something that manifests once in a while just because you're lonely, tired, angry, (insert other negative/positive/whatever emotions here).

"In ten years time, will these still matter?" I now find myself asking this question over and over again when I try to deal with (yup, you guessed it right) these pangs, flutters and "whatnots" I feel. Dealing with certain issues now is easier because, while I definitely still don't know what will happen next, I know what and who I want to see when I look back a few years from now. I want to smile and say that, yes, I handled that pretty well, didn't I? It sort of goes against my philosophy and my quite impulsive nature but so what? I have gotten tired of the drama around me (most of which I have admittedly created, by the way). I now strive to aim to see the simplest things, accept these things and let life be. I can see no other way to survive this world and still be happy at the same time.

Sometimes, I still doubt the decision to let go of my childlike (childish?) view of things. Sifting through people and things in life also have its downsides, like letting go of things you are used to, of people you still want, of feelings you still feel. But you can't have it all. When you go shopping, you have to choose the best pair of shoes that will fit you and your wardrobe because you're no Bill Gates: you can't afford it all. Right now, the best thing is the real thing -- not only now, but in two, five or even ten years time.

I understand that the only real things are facts. I guess what I'm trying to say is that decisions shouldn't always be 100% heart but a compromise of both. I like the idea of taking into consideration what is completely true and what is true to you. Like, how some people can screw up and get you so mad but you still forgive them. You give them a part of your time, of your effort, of yourself, because they are still part of you. No, you don't give them your full trust and attention; you're past that, you're not that naive. It is eternally true that they are your family, your friends but it is also true that they have hurt you and are not doing anything to prove that they are worthy of your trust. So, you don't give everything you have. Instead, you give them what they deserve.

And I think, by doing so, you end up deciding what you deserve as well.

______'s block

So you stare at that cursor
that continuously blinks.
Blink. Blink.
Blink.
Blink.

Your eyes blink with it in unison.
Or maybe your brain, too,
as it tries to think.
But comes up with nothing.

Your fists unclench as well.
And maybe your fingers twitch
as they grasp for the words you want to say.
But frustratingly ends up with nothing.

Your feet tap to the beat.
Or they might go against it
as you try to digest what that song means.
But you hear nothing.

Funny, isn't it, how
while your legs shake to the beat (or not)
and your digits remain uncooperative
and your mind.
Is.
Blank,

as the screen in front of you,

Your heart is so full and heavy, you can
Actually just bleed and bleed and bleed 
All over your page
Or your blog-slash-account
Or hers, or his, or theirs
And let them know everything
you've masked and protected and saved for nobody
but yourself.


So you stare at that corner
as you continuously blink.
Blink. Blink.
Blink.
Blink.

But don't let the first one fall.

How to Cure a Hangover

People do crazy things when they're in love - Meg, "Hercules" (1997)

People do crazy things when they're drunk. - Me, and everyone else

Once you wake up, get over the initial shock that you're alone. The party's over. Did you really expect them to watch you sleep? They have their own lives to live, their own homes to go home to, their own problems to solve. Selfish bitch.

Grab a glass of water and drink. Never mind that it still tastes a bit like your vomit. Never mind that you don't feel like drinking anything for, perhaps, the next couple of hours (or days). Drink until the last drop. Drink it the way you drank all those tequila shots last night.

Don't try to remember what happened, how it happened and who it happened with. And -- God forbid -- don't even think of trying to remember why it happened. So you danced on a table/laughed out loud/confessed your feelings/held his or her hand/kissed him or her/had sex with him or her/called him or her or them names/cried/vomited/drunk dialed someone/[insert other embarrassing things people typically do when they're drunk]. You were drunk. There's no other explanation. Don't try to rationalize; that'll make things even more embarrassing. You already have a headache so stop trying to make it worse.

Ignore. Ignore that tingling feeling all over your body. Ignore the faint taste of the alcohol on your lips. What's the use of reliving moments long gone? They were fun once, yes, but do you really want to continuously live in the past? You already feel disoriented, confused. Don't make it worse.

Stop asking where time went. Time passes, and quickly. You might not remember anything right now but good things happened, too. If you just really try to see beyond the fact that you were drunk, you'd know. Don't try to recall all the details from the past. You're already in pain. Don't. Make. It. Worse.

Don't blame yourself. It's perfectly normal to get drunk. Some people just handle alcohol better than others. And even those people fail once in a while. Stop muttering "never again" to yourself. You've said that a dozen times before. You can't help it; give it time and you'd probably be begging for more. Perhaps another poison though: a vodka-sprite or a rum coke, a margarita or a long island iced tea. Or you can always have a bottle of good ol' fashioned beer. Hey, why not? It's cheap and goes well with anything. You can use a friendly drink once in a while, you know. Something that your friends'd like as well.

Yes, maybe you just need to choose a better drink next time. Who knows, maybe you can avoid feeling this way if you choose the right stuff next time.

Sleep. Don't try to forget. Yes, I know I said don't try to remember. Just...let it be. Don't think...well, at least not for the next few hours. Be comfortable with the idea that shit happens. This ain't the first time. It definitely won't be the last.

Yes, sleep. Sleep until such the time that you can stand up, walk straight, and go to the bathroom to take a shower and not to throw up. Sleep until you feel less like a zombie and more of a real, live person. Sleep until you don't feel that throbbing pain anymore. Sleep until it doesn't hurt at all.

Fight the urge to smoke. You don't remember where you put your cigarettes, anyway.

Conditionals

If I stop wishing, this ends.

If I stop talking to you, you probably won't care.
If I were her, I wouldn't be as sad.
But, if I had stopped dreaming, I would've lost the dream
                                                                  the wish
                                                                  the prayer I fervently ask for
                                                                                                         but I didn't think
                                                                                                                         or stop
                                                                                                                         or pause.
If only I had stopped waiting, I wouldn't be here thinking of you
I'd be without you.

If I stopped, you wouldn't have noticed anyway.

***

If I say I'm ready, nothing changes.

If I say I'm ready, you probably won't believe me.

If I were her, I wouldn't be as lost.

Yes, if I had been ready, I would've told you
                                                         and her
                                                         and him
                                                         and everyone else in the world
                                                                                            but I'm not brave
                                                                                                             or honest
                                                                                                             or even sure.
If only I had been more sure, I wouldn't be here just thinking of you
I'd be with you.

If I were ready, you wouldn't have noticed anyway.

**

If I go fight for you, everything transforms.

If I go fight for you, you probably won't let me win.

If I were her, I wouldn't be as mad.

And, if I had gone and faced the music, I would've held your hand

                                                                               your face

                                                                               your gaze

                                                                               your heart with such tenderness

                                                                                                               but I didn't think

                                                                                                                       was not sure

                                                                                                                       pretended.

Pretended.

I didn't want you.

If only I had gone and braved the waters, I wouldn't be here just thinking of you

You'd be thinking of me too.

If I did fight for you, would you have even noticed?

Would you have even believed?

Would you have even cared?

*

Would I have ever won?

For if I weren't such a fool, I would've realized that my heart truly belongs to you.

Pretending and/or Acting

When I was younger, I didn't like that word. Pretending, I mean. To me, it sounded so...superficial. Or maybe because I've always associated pretending with the more common Filipino term: plastik. Mapagpanggap. Mapagkunuwa. I've always preferred the word acting. Perhaps it's my theater background. For me, it sounded more...professional. And, no, I didn't think I was rationalizing or calling one thing another. I mean, my personal definition of acting doesn't even have the word pretending in it. (Acting is being another person for a certain period of time, i.e., while you are onstage. It is an internalization of somebody completely different or completely similar to your own personality. FYI.)

After years and years and years of believing this, it suddenly struck me to check the dictionary. Just out of curiosity. I wanted to find out how the world officially sees the word I so glorified and called "better" than some other word. Here's what I found out:

Oh, my whole childhood/teenage life was a lie.

It's funny but, as I think more and more about it, I realized that I've been fooling nobody but myself. I still think that my definition is correct but only in certain situations. It can't be something applied to everyday life. In the end, I realized that acting can be pretending to be somebody you're not. And that's really dangerous. It's even more dangerous than pretending because, when you pretend, you know at the back of your mind that it's not true. It's imaginary, unreal. When you act, you have to internalize and, to Pareng Merriam and Pareng Webster:

To make something an important part of the kind of person you are. An important part of the kind of person you are. Doesn't it make you so much worse when you act than when you pretend? Say, when you act like you know something when, in fact, you don't. I think this is so much worse because you actually start to believe that you know something when you don't.

Or when you act like you care for someone when, in fact, you don't? Doesn't it hurt more because you have started believing that you do care, because you've taken that important part and held it close to your heart? That, when they find out that you don't really care about them, you still recoil from yourself a bit?

Again, realizations come wave after wave after wave. Maybe I don't like pretending because I don't know how to pretend. Maybe I've been acting all my life. Or maybe that's the reason why moving on has been really hard for me: I always act like I'm okay but I only pretend to move on. 

Does that make sense at all?

"And when we meet / Which I'm sure we will / All that was there / Will be there still.

I'll let it pass / And hold my tongue / And you will think / That I've moved on...."

- White Flag, Dido

Buntis

Unti-unti na ngang nakikita
Ng mundo
Ang totoo.

Una pa lang ay alam ko na.
Napagtatanto isang umaga.
Matapos magkape'y alam na nga
Naramdaman na ang unang sipa.

Masaya man sa naramdaman,
Pilit 'tong ikinubli sa isipan.
Takot mawalan ng kaibigan.
Mahal sa buha'y masasaktan.

Pagka't pagtanggap nito'y may kakambal:
Hinagpis sa mga pusong hangal.
'Di naman alam kung ito'y tatagal.
'Di naman alam kung ito'y pagmamahal.

Nguni't hanggang kailan ba itatago?
Alam na nga naman ang totoo.
Kahihinatna'y 'di na rin bago:
Lahat ay tiyak na uuwing bigo.

Una pa lang ay alam ko na.
Baka sadya lang nakatadhana.
Pilit mang baguhi'y wala na.
Pilit mang itago'y huli na.

Ngayo'y di na alam kung pa'no tatapusin
Gusto man ang atensyon mo'y di maaring hingin.
Nawa'y kahit paliham ako'y iyong dinggin:
Ako ba'y sadyang kaya mong mahalin?

Dahil pabulaanan ma'y 'di na maitatanggi,
Bumibilog na damdami'y di mo rin naman masisi.
Narito na nga'ng ebidensya, eto na'ng saksi:
Ginusto't inibig ka na yata, kahit ito'y mali.

Unti-unti na ngang nakikita
Ng mundo
Ang totoo.

Almost Dawn

Cool breeze on your face and a veil of midnight blue
Mix with smoke from the cigarettes, your only companion true.
Caught by this intrigue and your own brand of curiosity,
You dig deeper and squint and look even more closely.

Cool breeze on your face and a veil of midnight blue
Stretch bleakly from above, eyes are simply on you.
Try to win that staring game, be the warrior that you are.
Try to fight for your right, try to be that shining star.

Cool breeze on your face and a veil of midnight blue
Suffocate you -- oh, horror! -- by showing you what's true.
Thin orange strings of light around his neck are wrapped,
Still you don't avert your eyes for you are simply trapped.

Cool breeze on your face and a veil of midnight blue
Mix with smoke from your cigarette and from hundred others, too.
Stars that shone once brightly bleakly admit defeat.
And yes, you too, are lost; the good morning you must meet.

The Only One

Lately, I haven't felt like writing anything. So, instead, I am posting this picture. It says a lot about how I feel, actually.

Oh, and what exactly is it that I'm feeling? It's for me to know and for you to find out. :)

BUT.

[You know,] my brother once told me that nothing someone says before the word "but" really counts. 
- Benjen Stark, Lord Snow, Game of Thrones Season 1 Episode 3

I want to smoke,
let all the steam out,
blow these thoughts out of my system.
But 

I rarely smoke alone
and I don't really want 
to be alone right now.

I want to paint and draw, 
put some color back
in my dreary life.
But 

I'm missing my muse
and I don't really want to be reminded
that I am alone right now.

I want to dance,
put on my ballet shoes and
let my toes point me to the right direction.
But

I don't hear the music anymore
and I don't want to listen to songs
that tell me I am alone right now.

I want to leave,
run free wherever I want
without looking back.
But

I'm stuck where I am
and I don't want to admit
that I'd be alone if I leave, anyway.

I want to know the truth,
get it out in the open and 
just move on.
But

I'd rather lie to myself
'cause I don't want to forget
that you made me feel like I'm not alone



even for just a short while.

Who the hell are you?

Tell me, who the hell are you?

Because I've been waiting. I think I've been waiting since I watched that Disney movie about that Native American princess who fell in love with this Englishman. Okay, fine, maybe not. I was just five years old then, anyway. But I remember sighing and feeling all happy as the wind blows on her face, whipping her jet-black hair in such perfection. (Take note that never did those strands of hair obscure the Englishman's view of her face. And not once did she accidentally feed him with her long, silky hair, too, despite the wind blowing almost every time they hold hands or kiss or whatever.) I think my fascination with true love started the moment they waved good-bye. She, on her cliff, with the ever-faithful wind to make her even more stunningly beautiful. He, on his ship, with a sling on his arm and an equally handsome face. At such a young age, I realized that it doesn't matter if you have absolutely nothing in common, can't even speak the same language, are ignorant of each other's culture or have peers/families/tribes/troops/etc who hate each other. As long as you are in love, and you're willing to work it out, you'd always have each other, no matter how far apart you are. Nothing is impossible when it comes to love and being in love.

I cried at the end of the movie. I still cry every time I watch it. (Never mind that the sequel sucked big time. I refuse to believe that my childhood is ruined because of a poor, direct-to-video sequel.)

I grew up a bit and started waiting, not for you per se, but for that perfect moment. You know, and as corny as it sounds, girls really do wish that they'd have that "movie moment": a kiss under the rain, a very public profession of undying love on the streets with a bunch of flowers at hand, or maybe even a flash mob dance. I did. I still do. I have loads, actually. And for the longest time, seizing that moment meant falling in love and actions spoke louder without words. But I've had tons of these moments over the past years with a few frogs and even fewer princes who did a lot and explained nothing. Thus, I learned (the hard way, unfortunately, as usual) that the person you spend that moment with is indeed of utmost importance.

So, where the hell are you? Because I've been waiting. And waiting...and waiting some more. There were times that I thought I've found you, only to find out that you're not him and you're still hiding from me, you sly devil, you. See, the games that you play...they're very confusing. They're like mystery games, only you forgot to leave some clues. So, now, I am lost and I am just waiting for you to show up, take my hand and hug me, laughing, saying that it was all a cruel joke and it's over now...that you're here now and nobody's going to trick me ever again. How I long to see your face (the real you, please and thankyouverymuch), to smile at you and to sing all those love songs I've listened to over the years, thinking of you, thinking of the time I'd eventually spend with you, thinking of how I'd eventually spend my life with you.

Back to the real question, though: who are you, really? Will I know that it's you when I first see you? Or will I first hate you then eventually fall in love with you? Are you a complete stranger to me right now? Or have I met you before? Or are you -- pause for the needed dramatic effect -- a friend! Oh, how oblivious am I of your existence! Or perhaps you don't even know that you're my you. I wonder when fate would bring us together. Fate will eventually get tired of us and just let us be...

...right?

It's funny how I am asking you these questions when, right now, you probably don't know the answers, too. Right now, you're probably snoring in your bed or working your ass off or studying or paragliding...or perhaps thinking of me, too. Who knows? Who cares? Well, I mean, who cares but us, anyway? Oh, and you might be in someone else's arms right now, too (yes, we can't discount that possibility), but I don't mind. For now, I shall try to be better, be more beautiful and be the most wonderful person I can be. And why not? I don't want to end up losing when you start comparing me to your women. I hate losing. I can be very competitive. You'd probably know that soon enough (and I sort of expect you to accept it, too.)

And so I'll stop asking these stupid, pointless questions now and daydream some more. And, one day, when you finally, finally decide to show yourself and end this painful waiting game, I'm going to let you read this piece and we're going to laugh at it, like an old inside joke we've shared for years. And then, I'm going to tell you...

Strip, September.

I know I haven't blogged for a while. This is mainly because August was HELL. I've never had an August worse than the last one. But, being the optimist that I am, I have decided to let that all go, look at everything as a challenge and move on. Don't give me too much credit, though. I don't think I'm doing this because I have matured or something. I just keep on thinking that, if I don't hold my head up high and just walk away, I'd still smell the same poop every single day and that would be just sad. Don't you agree?

Anyway, September is here and some friends of mine have dubbed the month as "Happy September." Only, September, for me, isn't a happy, happy month. It's not hell month, not like August, though. I'd like to think that it's the month of changes. A lot of things are happening and they are happening fast. It's just mid-month and I feel as if I have enough memories to last me the rest of 2012. I honestly find it hard to catch up and it's tiring, in a way, to be always chasing after dreams, whatsits and whatnots.

It's funny how one event can change the way you perceive your life, how a singular moment can create so much chaos that you're shocked, stumped and perhaps even everything else in between.You realize that your so-called principles and ideas are not as grand as you think (perhaps hormonal, even). You realize that the people you thought were like this turned out to be like that. You realize that you overlooked things that were right under your nose -- and you did it on purpose, because it was easier to ignore them, really. And, yes, you realize all these at the same time, and you don't have the time to say "Wait!" or grab a lifebuoy or even breathe for that matter. You end up trying to swim for your life. Otherwise, you'll drown and die out of pressure or you'll float around and simply lose yourself in the process.

In so many ways, September is like that new sexy star featured in your latest copy of FHM: shocking, too revealing, eager to leave a mark in your memory and your consciousness for a long, long time.

Thus, to September, I say one thing: strip. Let it all out. Bare it all. Show me what I want to see...no, show me what I need to see. And, maybe -- just maybe -- when I have nothing in my hands but the naked truth, I'd know how to act and how to do it right come October, November and December.

Strip, September. Teach me how to dance again.