sunday Again

you share and share 

and share
bits and pieces of
your Mind
your Heart
your Body
your Soul
your Self

they take and take
and take
a handful and a pinch of
Whatever you have to Offer
Whatever else they can Find
Whatever they think they Need
Whatever they think they're Entitled to
Whatever they think they Want

you wish and hope
and pray
for a bit and a half of
their Ideas
their Thoughts
their Feelings
their Stirrings
their Truths

they hide and leave
and apologize
for the entirety and some of
their Rash Judgement
their Unintentional Mistakes
their Impulsiveness
their Stupidity
their Lies

.

and they're supposed to be the genuine ones

.

Whispers on the 7th

Life is 

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 \pdi2u0946x43781 3 rfebuhdsjcvluyejgrn92p

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98dsoc ht3pi5i ; l3r024yc9 7pyhewr89ihwe4k6nbkg 

fd,90 

]qO-2EC1H5O4UY698E[UJ. 

k rwek45fycnw7i34o54373n873534iyrheiutyieruth

j0457456t45kjybjtrg-srji34qbewofnd 

c89mrohc4wjkrhc0w48975cf89367-01859wjt8i;

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

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.

On Making Decisions

I read somewhere that we make about "217 food-related decisions a day". I think we get more or less half of them wrong. That's why we gain (or lose) weight without us knowing. Most girls are slaves to that flat, board-like object lying on the floor. One itsy bitsy line (on that weighing scale, that is) defines our utmost triumph and joy (followed by days of high self-confidence and that liberating "I'm-sexy-and-I-know-it" vibe) or pure anguish and frustration (followed by another week of very limiting diets and really painful physical activities).

It's amazing how, most of the time, crossing one itsy bitsy line defines the course of action we undertake in our lives. It can make us. It can break us. It most definitely affects us. And, most of the time, there is no turning back. The numbers you see when you step on the weighing scale become insignificant when you think of how there are so many other things that you cannot lose (or gain back) once you've crossed that line.

(And they say losing or gaining weight is one of the hardest things a girl encounters in her life. Ha! Yeah, right.)

So what must a girl to do when she is perched on that fence, sitting and thinking of the right thing to do? Must she heed her instinct or carefully think things through? Must she go for the practical choice or the popular decision? Must she be selfish or think of the feelings of the people around her?

Must she listen to her mind's reason? Must she listen to her heart's desire?

Based on experience, I'd like to say that it doesn't really matter. What matters most is that you are ready to face the consequences of that choice. Remember that it is always a fifty-fifty thing: you are never sure if you've done the right thing unless it has been shoved up in your face and you can see it as clear as day. So anticipate that uplifting feeling of pride and satisfaction in what you have done. However, be ready to accept the crushing agony of defeat and shame when you realize that you have gone down the wrong road and that you are lost.

And, when you do get lost, remember the reason why you chose that road anyway. Try to recall all the pros and cons you have listed down (or the lack thereof) that led you to that direction. Remind yourself. Make sure you're sure. No, not of the fact that you made the right decision (because there is no way of knowing, like what I have mentioned earlier) but of the reasons behind that particular choice. See, there is nothing worse than doubting yourself. Second-guessing never helped and never will.

We make decisions every day. Some major ones, some minor ones. Like the ripples when a pebble is thrown in the middle of a lake, remember that it is the effects of our choices -- even the small ones -- that define us. Sometimes, it takes just one teeny tiny line to determine who we are. While we may not always know where to stand, may we always have the courage to stand...and to stand tall.

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!

The Freedom to Give Up

Note: Yesterday, I got inked by my very talented childhood friend from waaaaaay back then at Octopushink Tattoo Studio and got asked by a lot of people (even the legendary tattoo artist himself, Tatay Nero) what my tatt means to me. Thus, I came up with this entry. :)

Next to passion, freedom is my favorite word. I guess that's because if there is something constant in my life, it's my search for freedom.

ελευθερία (eleptheria) is the "name" of my new tattoo.
After several years of thinking and rethinking of the 
perfect design, my Eleptheria was born.

While I was still studying, I yearned for the freedom to make my own choices because, as a very good friend (not so kindly) pointed out, I had very limited choices back then. I felt shackled because I thought that I was held prisoner by my age and lack of job experience. I wanted to start earning my own money way before I turned 18. However, I had very limited imagination back then so I ended up waiting for our theater company's next show and/or the next surprising moment my guardians would hand me my allowance. When I started working, I craved freedom from all the added responsibilities I inherited from my "very responsible" parents. I wanted to feel young and wild, and happy-go-lucky, like most of my friends. But I knew (and still know) that I can only be like them to a certain extent. I did not really deny myself the luxury of spending my money for personal stuff, yes, but I have always thought of how it felt like to have fun without thinking of the bills one has to pay at the end of the month.

A few years have passed since then. Now, I long for the freedom to discover who I really am and who I want to be without compromising any of the duties I need and want to do. At last, I have realized that I am left with no choice but to accept the fact that I am responsible for the most unlikely things. To some, this might sound like the complete opposite of what I have yearned for during my younger years (from limited to no choices, from wanting to be free from my duties to embracing them) and maybe it is. It's pleasantly surprising to know that I have reconciled to this piece of truth and I feel...okay. Perhaps a bit resigned, but peacefully so. 

Yes, I am proud to say that I am slowly, finally stopping the search for the freedom I want. Instead, I am branding my own freedom. I am giving up.

I am giving up on controlling things that are beyond me and my power. As cliche as this sounds, life is filled with circumstances we cannot avoid. There are moments that we think we have it covered...and then everything spirals downward. We exert so much effort to patch things up that we tend to forget two things: 1. things like these are not our fault and 2. they're not meant to be fixed. Because of this, we end up taking for granted the things we can fix, the things we can do something about, and then you realize that, when they said that life is about the decisions you make, they were talking about you deciding on the ones you fix, the one you keep, the one you exert effort on. I think about the serenity prayer and I believe I'm right on track: I have given up the search for freedom for the search of serenity, courage and wisdom.

I am giving up on seeking the truth from others. Face it, people lie. I lie. I even lie to myself. How can you look for something in others that you cannot find in yourself? Honestly (harhar), I think this looking-for-the-truth thing I had going for months tops my list of not-so-smart moves in life. It's not a matter of trusting people but of being smart enough to know that, sometimes, people can be cruel and not really care about you. On the other hand, this is also a matter of believing that the people that you trust and love won't lie to you just to hurt you. And that you should do the same.

I am giving up on things that are not even mine in the first place. Sometimes, fate lends us small doses of inspiration that can help make the toils and crosses we bear lighter even just for a while: conversations that only the two of you can hear, an umbrella shared under the rain, jokes only you two can understand, a seemingly loving glimmer of admiration in his eyes. Yet, inasmuch as you'd like to keep this treasure to yourself, it feels a bit off. It's like using somebody's very expensive mobile phone for a long time: you feel good and confident, knowing that you have something so valuable in your hands, but you can't help but feel awkward, too, because you know that the phone's not yours to keep, no matter how good it makes you feel. They say you can't let go of something you don't have. That's true. But aren't you tired of rationalizing, telling yourself reasons why you should still wait and pine and sigh and sob and wallow in the pain you want and don't want at the same time? Acknowledge that there is something you have to let go of: the part of yourself who is foolishly holding on. Stand up, accept the truth and make the most of your life from this point on.

It's funny how, once it starts, all things fall into their proper places. I have never thought that, by solving your biggest issue in life (yes, that one about you, not the one about your family or your friends or your love life or work or money), you end up fixing everything. Right now, my life feels like a domino: one problem down after the other. And all I had to do is to give up the freedom I have sought but could never have for things that I have always had and ignored. :)

***

P.S. Pictures from the tatt session:








From the stencil on my skin (lower left) to the finished product (upper left and right) :)

With my childhood friend and ultimate tattoo idol, the jinxed cupcake (eh?), Regine. :D
(I can't believe I still got to smile like that after the session, though. Hahaha!)

Isn't it peculiar

Isn't it quite peculiar how you can remember other people's faces but not their names?
How you recognize that glint in his eye and that crooked smile on his face
but not how you once uttered his name
and asked him questions that caught your interest sometime ago?

Isn't it peculiar how sometimes it's the other way around?
How you vaguely remember hearing this unlikely confidant spill his deepest darkest secrets
but not how tears spilled from his sad, sad eyes
and trickled down from his cheek to yours?

Peculiar, isn't it, how there are moments that you'd rather forget but you can't.
How you want to bear in mind and never forget the lesson you just had to learn the hard way
but not how you felt while you threw wisdom and control out of the window, stayed in his arms,
moaned, gave, received, laughed, cried
and shook yourself to the core?

Peculiar, isn't it, how there are things that are done even before they have begun.
How you find yourself tearing down that jack-in-the-box you created with your impulsive foolishness
but not rebuilding the fort you have painstakingly erected
put up, took care of, sacrificed for, created, polished
and perfected that even you can't stand its perfection?

Peculiar how you want one thing and need another.
Peculiar how a seed so little and ignored can grow so strong.
Peculiar how it can be so alive!

Isn't it?

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.

Amor Fati

"What fates impose, that men must needs abide; It boots not to resist both wind and tide."

-William Shakespeare

“Yet it would be your duty to bear it, if you could not avoid it: it is weak and silly to say you cannot bear what it is your fate to be required to bear.” 

― Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre

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.

IDA Day!

Today marks Ida's first day in our company. Of course, we weren't as close back then but it doesn't really matter. In my calendar, today is IDA (Ida Deserves Appreciation) Day! To show my love to the REAL evil twin, here's a poem*:

Whoever thought that we'd be this close?

Two unlikely friends, more likely to be foes!

Let's shout and celebrate; let us all cheer

For it has been a year, Idapot, my dear!

Yes, it has been a year since your bag from Davao

Made me smile and coo and go "Oh, wow!"

And it has been a year since I gave you cake

To bribe you "for a trivia point's sake."

Christmas came and Christmas passed,

Who'd ever thought our friendship would last?

We met new people and the gang grew bigger

Yet our bond grew stronger, stronger and stronger.

And, ever since, you have always been there

To remind me of my importance, to show that you care.

You were there during my best and my worst days

To make me feel special in so many ways.

Ha, who'd ever think we'd be as close as we are now

And stomach each other's differences somehow:

How cute you can giggle when I cackle like a witch,

How outgoing I can be when pleasantries you ditch?

Sometimes I really wonder how this works

Our friendship, I mean, with all our contrastive quirks.

Though one thing is for sure, I think:

We can talk for days, even eras, 'til we stink!

So I wrote this to say that I'm really happy

That I'm your friend, though you can be, er, bitchy.

And, for the record, what you keep on saying is true:

Great things happen to people who listen to you.

Yes, it has been a year, Idapot, my dear,

And everything has been far from sere.

But I know I can go through all things thick and thin

As long as I have the love of my twin. :)

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY, IDAPOT!

I am so glad you're in my life! :)

(Sounds just a tad bit wrong...LOL #PervinizedMind)

*I claim poetic license so this poem is error-free. I don't even know if "claim" is the right word to use in my previous sentence. Sorry, Ida. We both know we lack sleep today/tonight.

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.

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...