Monday, December 4, 2006
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
another case for mulder and scully
Lately I've been asking the same question--from the last genuine days of being drunk, to the dreamy first time I kissed her, to the day of my overdue graduation, to the day I bid farewell to bumnation and acceptable craziness and welcomed myself to the "real" world, how much have I grown? Really?
And with this dogging my invaluable spare time, I find myself asking more questions, which in turn leads to more thinking (something I'm not much in favor of recently since it forces me to the brink of profound foolishness, paranoia laced with doubt, and fluctuations of madness).
If only I could push the thoughts, the frustrations, the fear, and everything bad in one giant scream... but that's just plain stupid now, right?
So here I am. In dire attempt to write once again (or at least force the illusion of it), sounding drunk and incoherent rambling about indefinite and atrociously vain "somethings".
Maybe I need to lighten up. Be less and less tight on myself. Stop the self-deprecation and once again go with the flow. Yep, now I remember how I was back then, laid-back and relaxed, unattached, fearless of things that are to come.
But things...things just couldn't be as simple as those days anymore. "Things would never the same," was what I said back then when the days suddenly started to feel fast and restless and surreal. And back then I didn't care.
Anyway, it feels as if I have this imaginary organization in my head that formulates hypothetical situations staging my demise. No matter how hard I try to be optimistic a part of me would always give me bigger list of things that could go wrong, always contradicting and somehow sounding more like reality.
...
...
Know what... The part of me that I missed the most, the part that somehow got left behind along the other shore some one a half year ago, tells me that I should just go with it, that I shouldn't think about things too much. That I shouldn't try too hard to answer every question or doubt that I have. That I should just try to enjoy every bit of time working, being alone, being paranoid, being insecure, being stupid and foolish, and especially being with her... even if things would never be the same again.
And with this dogging my invaluable spare time, I find myself asking more questions, which in turn leads to more thinking (something I'm not much in favor of recently since it forces me to the brink of profound foolishness, paranoia laced with doubt, and fluctuations of madness).
If only I could push the thoughts, the frustrations, the fear, and everything bad in one giant scream... but that's just plain stupid now, right?
So here I am. In dire attempt to write once again (or at least force the illusion of it), sounding drunk and incoherent rambling about indefinite and atrociously vain "somethings".
Maybe I need to lighten up. Be less and less tight on myself. Stop the self-deprecation and once again go with the flow. Yep, now I remember how I was back then, laid-back and relaxed, unattached, fearless of things that are to come.
But things...things just couldn't be as simple as those days anymore. "Things would never the same," was what I said back then when the days suddenly started to feel fast and restless and surreal. And back then I didn't care.
Anyway, it feels as if I have this imaginary organization in my head that formulates hypothetical situations staging my demise. No matter how hard I try to be optimistic a part of me would always give me bigger list of things that could go wrong, always contradicting and somehow sounding more like reality.
...
...
Know what... The part of me that I missed the most, the part that somehow got left behind along the other shore some one a half year ago, tells me that I should just go with it, that I shouldn't think about things too much. That I shouldn't try too hard to answer every question or doubt that I have. That I should just try to enjoy every bit of time working, being alone, being paranoid, being insecure, being stupid and foolish, and especially being with her... even if things would never be the same again.
Thursday, October 26, 2006
broken
Surprising how the truth could just hurt... really really hurt. Got me big this time, off-guard and weakened. Sweet as sin, painfull as hell. As if I got hit by a ten-wheeler cargo truck, straight to the chest, with little pieces of me drenched in blood all over the frying pavement, left for the crows to pick.
Sometimes, maybe, your better of left in the dark. Not knowing. Wearing a stupid smile on your face. Believing. But occasionally, there's this irritating nagging voice way back in your head that fuels your imagination and curiousity. Why? Who? When? Doesn't matter. Coz, when the time comes that you found out about it by yourself and it was there all this time just under your nose, you'll probably think it was a good thing, but it'll never be as bad as you'd feel after... You'd wish you never knew...
Sometimes, maybe, your better of left in the dark. Not knowing. Wearing a stupid smile on your face. Believing. But occasionally, there's this irritating nagging voice way back in your head that fuels your imagination and curiousity. Why? Who? When? Doesn't matter. Coz, when the time comes that you found out about it by yourself and it was there all this time just under your nose, you'll probably think it was a good thing, but it'll never be as bad as you'd feel after... You'd wish you never knew...
Friday, September 15, 2006
- - -
There are different kinds of silence in this world. There is the one that we have all come to know, to love or hate or simply ignore.
Silence can be found everywhere, and believe it or not its something that is much more easier to find than finding a noise, or a hum, or line, or a whisper that matters. Just like how it is much easier to disappear than to be noticed.
Silence in death. Silence in the part of silence. There is silence in agony and despair, in missing something or someone. It is in our deepest fears, in the darkest corners of our being. It can bring madness and delight at the same time.
Of course, there is also silence in smiles and in stares. The thing that ends words can also be found in words, in distance and in actions.
Silence. Should we fear it as much?
How great it would feel to be in speechless contentment. Only now, I'm in silence that is somehow brought by solitude. I'm not alone. Just on my own.
Silence can be found everywhere, and believe it or not its something that is much more easier to find than finding a noise, or a hum, or line, or a whisper that matters. Just like how it is much easier to disappear than to be noticed.
Silence in death. Silence in the part of silence. There is silence in agony and despair, in missing something or someone. It is in our deepest fears, in the darkest corners of our being. It can bring madness and delight at the same time.
Of course, there is also silence in smiles and in stares. The thing that ends words can also be found in words, in distance and in actions.
Silence. Should we fear it as much?
How great it would feel to be in speechless contentment. Only now, I'm in silence that is somehow brought by solitude. I'm not alone. Just on my own.
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
My Best Times
My best times are not as infinite as the stars above this frosted night,
nor is it as long as forever,
but how I prayed so much for it to be.
They are as small as a single tear.
So small yet so precious and irreplaceable,
so fragile yet every drop is so much memorable.
My best times may not be as happy as others.
But on these times my heart screams the loudest.
For I am with her, and that is all that matters.
On these times, the nights are most beautiful.
And on these times I rest so calmly on her,
as if I never rested before.
I hold her, so dearly. Hold her as close as though I'll never let go.
Kiss her and kiss her for every fragment of a time that passes.
And in every kiss and in every touch is a whisper of how much I love her.
Through these ordinary days, I think of her. I miss her.
I long for every smile in her deep eyes,
for every trail of the sweet scent of her hair,
for every comfort in her touch,
for every warmth in her embrace.
How could I not yearn for her in my arms.
Remembering those memories could never be sweeter and agonizing.
And waiting could never be longer.
My best times are not as infinite as the stars above this frosted night,
nor is it as long as forever.
They are moments spent with her under the most beautiful sky.
nor is it as long as forever,
but how I prayed so much for it to be.
They are as small as a single tear.
So small yet so precious and irreplaceable,
so fragile yet every drop is so much memorable.
My best times may not be as happy as others.
But on these times my heart screams the loudest.
For I am with her, and that is all that matters.
On these times, the nights are most beautiful.
And on these times I rest so calmly on her,
as if I never rested before.
I hold her, so dearly. Hold her as close as though I'll never let go.
Kiss her and kiss her for every fragment of a time that passes.
And in every kiss and in every touch is a whisper of how much I love her.
Through these ordinary days, I think of her. I miss her.
I long for every smile in her deep eyes,
for every trail of the sweet scent of her hair,
for every comfort in her touch,
for every warmth in her embrace.
How could I not yearn for her in my arms.
Remembering those memories could never be sweeter and agonizing.
And waiting could never be longer.
My best times are not as infinite as the stars above this frosted night,
nor is it as long as forever.
They are moments spent with her under the most beautiful sky.
Sunday, August 6, 2006
swept aside
Less and less and less have become
of once were endless dreams and promises
Were you left to think alone
Were you left standing swept aside and weeping
When all that's left
is a memory of what was there
spare me the tears and pity
Runaway runaway till everything goes numb
Were we really made to fly that high?
or did we just made it that way
Only to find our feets slowly touching the ground
less and less of what was there
Did reality caught up with you
or did a landslide brought you back away
Away from the choking sensation of what we had
Away from the alchemy of feelings we never knew before
Swept aside
Crashed and empty
Less and less have become
of what was before endless
We should've never flown that high
of once were endless dreams and promises
Were you left to think alone
Were you left standing swept aside and weeping
When all that's left
is a memory of what was there
spare me the tears and pity
Runaway runaway till everything goes numb
Were we really made to fly that high?
or did we just made it that way
Only to find our feets slowly touching the ground
less and less of what was there
Did reality caught up with you
or did a landslide brought you back away
Away from the choking sensation of what we had
Away from the alchemy of feelings we never knew before
Swept aside
Crashed and empty
Less and less have become
of what was before endless
We should've never flown that high
Friday, May 26, 2006
Alcohols and Nicotine
*** The Object of My Affection ***
My lola told me once, not so long ago as from the time I found myself enchanted in the midst of all that was unpredictable and unexplainable and all that was undeniably euphoric, that when the time has come for me to "choose" that I should only choose one.
"No matter what..."
*** Time ***
How does one measure time? By the Years and months? By the hours and minutes? Or perhaps by seconds? How can "so long" be long enough and when is "enough" enough? It depends, I guess.
As for me, time measured by numbers can make "so long" seem long and "enough" seem enough but measure it by the moments, moments where you've really felt what's present, makes time change in intangible proportions. What should've been, and must've been, a long time flows unusually faster and before you knew it, another incredibly sweet and unexplainable ecstatic moment has slipped by pass your grasp and leaves you with nothing but a stupid smile on your face.
The same goes for how a short time could feel hellishly long. The more you wait, the more it just creeps disgustingly slow. The more you wish for someday or something to end, the more it insultingly stares at you while it crawls and stings you with every hourly second that passes.
We've been together for already a year now. Seems so long have passed yet everyday I'm with her will always fall on the shortest of days. It's waiting for those days that scream the longest.
I'm sensing that this will be a longer post than I would've expected and so a forewarning-this will totally bore, just like every ordinary life would. But again, it depends on how you measure time.
*** Beers and Smiles ***
I miss drinking. I miss the scent of alcohol. I miss the pungent aroma that sticks to your skin that screams of drunk and smoke. I miss the strange brew of smooth yet strong, crisp and cold texture that slides through your dry throat and into your seemingly abysmal belly. But most of all, I miss the feeling of absurdity and freedom and all that's temporal that hangs with it as it comes and goes.
I was holding this lighter on my hand. Flicked it on and held it for a while until the fire dies. It took about 5 minutes for the damn thing to burn out and suddenly a question crossed my mind as I saw myself smiling. Why are smiles quite?
For a long time now I've been contented with what I have, or that is what I've wanted to think about. There's nothing wrong, really. But there's this feeling of unspeakable uneasiness somewhere lurking in the depths of my being, and just like a smile it sits there, quietly.
The fact is, behind every piece of contentment, every moment of happiness, every second of a calm profound smile I had, is a hidden fear. A fear that one day, no matter how hard I try, no matter how much I've given up and sacrificed, the object that I've been taking care and thought of the world of will disappear, burn out or slowly fade away, and the once quite smile I've been wearing foolishly will slowly change into a dismaying silent frown. If only smiles could make a bang, then the world would've known how much I smile for her.
My lola told me once, not so long ago as from the time I found myself enchanted in the midst of all that was unpredictable and unexplainable and all that was undeniably euphoric, that when the time has come for me to "choose" that I should only choose one.
"No matter what..."
*** Time ***
How does one measure time? By the Years and months? By the hours and minutes? Or perhaps by seconds? How can "so long" be long enough and when is "enough" enough? It depends, I guess.
As for me, time measured by numbers can make "so long" seem long and "enough" seem enough but measure it by the moments, moments where you've really felt what's present, makes time change in intangible proportions. What should've been, and must've been, a long time flows unusually faster and before you knew it, another incredibly sweet and unexplainable ecstatic moment has slipped by pass your grasp and leaves you with nothing but a stupid smile on your face.
The same goes for how a short time could feel hellishly long. The more you wait, the more it just creeps disgustingly slow. The more you wish for someday or something to end, the more it insultingly stares at you while it crawls and stings you with every hourly second that passes.
We've been together for already a year now. Seems so long have passed yet everyday I'm with her will always fall on the shortest of days. It's waiting for those days that scream the longest.
I'm sensing that this will be a longer post than I would've expected and so a forewarning-this will totally bore, just like every ordinary life would. But again, it depends on how you measure time.
*** Beers and Smiles ***
I miss drinking. I miss the scent of alcohol. I miss the pungent aroma that sticks to your skin that screams of drunk and smoke. I miss the strange brew of smooth yet strong, crisp and cold texture that slides through your dry throat and into your seemingly abysmal belly. But most of all, I miss the feeling of absurdity and freedom and all that's temporal that hangs with it as it comes and goes.
I was holding this lighter on my hand. Flicked it on and held it for a while until the fire dies. It took about 5 minutes for the damn thing to burn out and suddenly a question crossed my mind as I saw myself smiling. Why are smiles quite?
For a long time now I've been contented with what I have, or that is what I've wanted to think about. There's nothing wrong, really. But there's this feeling of unspeakable uneasiness somewhere lurking in the depths of my being, and just like a smile it sits there, quietly.
The fact is, behind every piece of contentment, every moment of happiness, every second of a calm profound smile I had, is a hidden fear. A fear that one day, no matter how hard I try, no matter how much I've given up and sacrificed, the object that I've been taking care and thought of the world of will disappear, burn out or slowly fade away, and the once quite smile I've been wearing foolishly will slowly change into a dismaying silent frown. If only smiles could make a bang, then the world would've known how much I smile for her.
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
A Last Grasp for the Scent of Freedom and Procrastination
Its been more than three months of procrastination and freedom. A time well flushed down the drain together with every dream and ideas that would never see the light of the day anymore, whilst remain but a collection of memories or claim a spot on a journal perhaps.
I've landed a nice paying job and will be starting tomorrow. I should feel excited but I'm not. It wasn't my dream job. Even with all the attractive compensations thrown together with it, it isn't what I wanted. But considering my current status, it's inevitable that I conform and submit to whatever is served on the platter.
Oh well. Ah, the famous two words of a content being. Is this a sign of contentment? Perhaps. Or just helplessness?
A sudden burst of a peculiar tirelessness and a craving for something to do fell upon my head during the weekend up until now. I found myself cleaning and reorganizing my room (big mistake), doing the laundry, working on the car, and this. All these because I wasn't able to see her on the weekend. I miss her so much and it feels that the world is just forcing our day to be on a leap year. I wonder if its some dark conspiracy fueled by the painfull fact that I am just plain and lazy and that I am, and will always be, just the wind beneath her wings, never a partner, not even a rival, but just a shadow, always a step behind her.
But what gives?
A moment? A feeling? A star?
Truth to the matter is, I'd pay for every second to see her and feel something that I know I'll only feel from her, even trade in every ounce of sweat and pride just to stand behind her. In the end, I'll always know everything is worth it because she is my star and I'll always be looking high above the heavens for her.
I've landed a nice paying job and will be starting tomorrow. I should feel excited but I'm not. It wasn't my dream job. Even with all the attractive compensations thrown together with it, it isn't what I wanted. But considering my current status, it's inevitable that I conform and submit to whatever is served on the platter.
Oh well. Ah, the famous two words of a content being. Is this a sign of contentment? Perhaps. Or just helplessness?
A sudden burst of a peculiar tirelessness and a craving for something to do fell upon my head during the weekend up until now. I found myself cleaning and reorganizing my room (big mistake), doing the laundry, working on the car, and this. All these because I wasn't able to see her on the weekend. I miss her so much and it feels that the world is just forcing our day to be on a leap year. I wonder if its some dark conspiracy fueled by the painfull fact that I am just plain and lazy and that I am, and will always be, just the wind beneath her wings, never a partner, not even a rival, but just a shadow, always a step behind her.
But what gives?
A moment? A feeling? A star?
Truth to the matter is, I'd pay for every second to see her and feel something that I know I'll only feel from her, even trade in every ounce of sweat and pride just to stand behind her. In the end, I'll always know everything is worth it because she is my star and I'll always be looking high above the heavens for her.
Thursday, January 26, 2006
the weather and me
The weather, as expected, has been so unpredictable for these past couple of days now. But never did it changed more often to the beat of an erratic dancer on a high. One minute you could smell rain coming and after a while of serene contentment brought by the cold breeze and lonely sky you feel your forehead wrinkling while your nose wets itself automatically as the temperature comes to an irritating mixture of damp heat and a haunting breeze. Rain for a couple and dance for one.
Uulan. Aaaraw. Uulan. Aaraw. Uulan. Aaraw. Uulan. Aantukin. Lalamigin. Pagpapawisan. Masarap. Hindi Maintindihan.
Then I realized. I have realized this before or rather have questioned, too many times to count in a minute. Is it me that's changing or is it you. Were you really like this before or is it just me that seemed to be looking through a different pair of magical glasses. You were here then there, then here again and, suddenly, your there once again. Sometimes your just missing, went away perhaps or just thinking as well, in isolation, wondering and trying to understand the changes.
Is it me that changed? Or has something brought this upon us?
Uulan ka ba ngayon o aaraw? Patutulugin sa init o pakakantahin sa ulan? Paglalaruan sa ilalalim ng ulan o papangingitiin sa ganda ng panahon? Anong iniisip mo? Asan ka na?
I'm waiting once again for this day to come to its last hours. There's nothing to do but wait. Wait and look outside for the slightest detail that resembles an answer or a sign.
Uulan. Aaaraw. Uulan. Aaraw. Uulan. Aaraw. Uulan. Aantukin. Lalamigin. Pagpapawisan. Masarap. Hindi Maintindihan.
Then I realized. I have realized this before or rather have questioned, too many times to count in a minute. Is it me that's changing or is it you. Were you really like this before or is it just me that seemed to be looking through a different pair of magical glasses. You were here then there, then here again and, suddenly, your there once again. Sometimes your just missing, went away perhaps or just thinking as well, in isolation, wondering and trying to understand the changes.
Is it me that changed? Or has something brought this upon us?
Uulan ka ba ngayon o aaraw? Patutulugin sa init o pakakantahin sa ulan? Paglalaruan sa ilalalim ng ulan o papangingitiin sa ganda ng panahon? Anong iniisip mo? Asan ka na?
I'm waiting once again for this day to come to its last hours. There's nothing to do but wait. Wait and look outside for the slightest detail that resembles an answer or a sign.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
