One day, I might get hit by a bus.
Saturday, January 31, 2015
Friday, January 30, 2015
You be the Anchor that Keeps My Feet on the Ground, I'll be the Wings that Keep Your Heart in the Clouds
I'll be here by the ocean just waiting for proof
that there's sunsets and silhouette dreams.
Thursday, January 29, 2015
Things I did today
:matusok nan bubuyog (nun isan araw pa to pero hanggang ngayon masakit parin. Aantayin ko nalan ma-anaphylaxis)
:maglapat nan tugtugin at kun anu-anong sfx sa presentations at stage plays para sa foundation day bukas
:matorete sa dami nan trabaho
:mapagod sa kun anu-anong kadahilanan
:magutom (sa kawalan nan kain.)
:kumanta nan kaunti sa videoke
:tumawa nan malakas
:kiligin
:sumaya
:masaktan
:magselos
8:53
Things I'm bad at:
*eye contact
*expressing feelings
*makin decisions
*tellin someone what I want
*explainin why I act a certain way
*gettin motivated to do stuff
*payin attention to people
Sunday, January 25, 2015
Tadhana
Yung pag-ibig na alam na nga ni tadhanang hindi pwede pero gumagawa pa rin siya ng paraan para magtagpo.
Para magkaroon ng katuparan kahit saglit lan.
Hindi ko alam kung gusto lan ba niya talagang tumulong, naaawa lang, nagtitrip, o talaga lang sadista siya.
Dahil ung saglit na pagtatagpo ay katumbas ng tone-toneladang bigat at sakit at pait sa dibdib.
Dahil yung saglit na pagsasama ay katumbas ng isang libong taon ng panghihinayang.
Para lang sa isang pagibig na kahit anong gawin mo,
kailan man ay hinding-hindi mapapasaiyo.
Friday, January 23, 2015
Superman
Pag naaalala kita nasasaktan pa rin ako. Nalulungkot. Umiiyak.
Alam kong hindi mapapantayan ng simpleng "sorry" lang yung ginawa ko.
Pero sana kung nasaan ka man,
sana'y masaya ka.
At ako'y napatawad mo na.
Dahil kahit anong mangyari, mahal kita. Hindi ko man naipakita.
Wednesday, January 21, 2015
6:40
Pasensya na
Kung nakakapagod pala lahat ng bagay na meron tayo.
Dahil ako, kahit na mahirap at minsan masakit, kahit kelan hindi ako nakaramdam ng pagod. Dahil higit pa sa kahit anong hirap at sakit ay iyong saya na nagbibigay sa akin ng pag asa para harapin ang kung ano mang bagay na pwedeng maging sagabal sa lahat.
Pasensya na
Kung hindi ko nakita
Kung hindi ko naramdaman
Kung hindi ko pinansin man lang.
Napapagod ka na pala.
Pasensya.
Sunday, January 18, 2015
Check. Mate.
Unexpectedly you came. Indifferent and clueless but you had the aura of complexity. I didn’t bother to recognize the beauty that was innate in you for it was just one of those senseless conversations for me. We were both minding our own pointless existence. As the witty exchange of words drew us together, it suddenly occurred to me that this was different. You were different. I instantly noticed how amazingly smart you were. That and more.
I was the black pawn. You were the white knight. We were always on the same board but we never had our squares aligned. While I was busy protecting, shielding my own realm, you were having your own share of victorious moments. I took my steps one square at a time, constantly being aware of the threat that haunted me for years. Your valor radiated from within while your horse galloped. Your mere presence was too overwhelming for me not to notice.
You were my metaphor.
Your vagueness was intriguing me.
For some strange reason it was as if I understood every crap you’ve been telling me. I just refused to acknowledge the fact that they were affecting me this much. I was trying desperately hard to resist being dragged any further into this but the scent of paranoia that once lingered in my whole being seemed to have faded.
It had its toll.
You had me.
We both knew that we could not justify the mediocrity of it all. Still you said you meant those words that you blurted out that one midnight when I was about to hit the sack. How ironic. I had doubts about its sincerity, though. I told you that. You didn’t argue. You just understood.
I was confused that’s why I just had to draw the line. I didn’t want to hold on to something that was not even there. You assured me that it was there, constantly hovering over my open palm. Somehow I just couldn’t grasp it. Maybe because I was just trying hard to get a grip of it for I feared that it might go away. I realized that I wasn’t letting it have a chance to calmly rest on my palm. I know you were just taking your time. You’ve been doing that from the start. You would never know how much I appreciated you for that. You were just probably as scared as I was. Not even half I bet, for now you have everything to lose.
I’m nearing the end of the chessboard. Soon I’ll be transformed into a queen. I don’t know how to rule. This whole sense of sovereignty and royalty is far too profound for me to comprehend.
Give me reasons to trust you.
Tell me you’ll guard me with all your heart.
Tell me you’ll erase the fear that I’ve been having of falling in love.
Assure me that you’re the one I’ve been longing for and I’ll forever be yours.
Check. Your move
Article: Check
Author: Paperclip
Date a girl who READS
DATE A GIRL WHO READS
by Rosemarie Urquico
(In response to Charles Warnke’s You Should Date an Illiterate Girl)
_____
Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.
Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag. She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.
She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.
Buy her another cup of coffee.
Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.
It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.
She has to give it a shot somehow.
Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.
Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.
Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilight series.
If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.
You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.
You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat, Harry and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.
Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.
Or better yet, date a girl who writes.
by Rosemarie Urquico
(In response to Charles Warnke’s You Should Date an Illiterate Girl)
_____
Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.
Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag. She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.
She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.
Buy her another cup of coffee.
Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.
It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.
She has to give it a shot somehow.
Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.
Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.
Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilight series.
If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.
You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.
You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat, Harry and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.
Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.
Or better yet, date a girl who writes.
I DON'T REALLY LIKE THE WORD "MEMORY"
Nana: Why not?
Yano: No reason. In my Japanese class in elementary school, I read a story.
Nana: What story?
Yano: A story called “What color was that girls dress?” Heard of it?
Nana: No.
Yano: Two girls, named A and B are recalling an old story together. They get into this discussion about a picture hanging on the wall of one of the staircase landings in their elementary school. A picture of a girl picking flowers in front of a deep red sunset. You never really read this?
Nana: Nope.
Yano: A says, “Oh, how nostalgic. You’re talking about the picture of the girl in a pretty yellow dress, right?” But then B says, “No, the dress she was wearing was red, just like the sunset!”
The two of them, filled with excitement, reached the old, nostalgic school building. "What color was that girl’s dress?”
Nana: What color was it?
Yano: It.. didn't have a color. It was just a black and white picture. The dress that dark silhouette wore was scribbled completely black. Yet in their memories, both bickering girls were sure that the dress in the picture had a color. See? Human memories are too vague. Thinking something has color when it doesn’t, making things more dramatic than they really are, glorifying things.. It gives new, greater meaning than was actually there.That’s why I don’t believe any of this talk about “beautiful memories.”
Nana: What do you believe in, then?
Yano: You. Absolutely you. What’s in front of me right now.
Yano: No reason. In my Japanese class in elementary school, I read a story.
Nana: What story?
Yano: A story called “What color was that girls dress?” Heard of it?
Nana: No.
Yano: Two girls, named A and B are recalling an old story together. They get into this discussion about a picture hanging on the wall of one of the staircase landings in their elementary school. A picture of a girl picking flowers in front of a deep red sunset. You never really read this?
Nana: Nope.
Yano: A says, “Oh, how nostalgic. You’re talking about the picture of the girl in a pretty yellow dress, right?” But then B says, “No, the dress she was wearing was red, just like the sunset!”
“No, it was red.”
“No, it was definitely yellow.”
“Alright then, why don’t we go see for ourselves?”
The two of them, filled with excitement, reached the old, nostalgic school building. "What color was that girl’s dress?”
Nana: What color was it?
Yano: It.. didn't have a color. It was just a black and white picture. The dress that dark silhouette wore was scribbled completely black. Yet in their memories, both bickering girls were sure that the dress in the picture had a color. See? Human memories are too vague. Thinking something has color when it doesn’t, making things more dramatic than they really are, glorifying things.. It gives new, greater meaning than was actually there.That’s why I don’t believe any of this talk about “beautiful memories.”
Nana: What do you believe in, then?
Yano: You. Absolutely you. What’s in front of me right now.
Saturday, January 17, 2015
11:45
I am very emotionally unstable right now.
My mind is all messed up.
I don't how long this would go on. It might take days, weeks, months, or even longer.
I'd be sure to be very moody.
You'd find me sweet and cheerful one minute then angry and sad the next.
I may not talk that often.
I may distance myself from you, from everyone,
but I hope that you would never run out of patience for me.
I hope you'd still find it in your heart to care.
xx
Tuesday, January 13, 2015
TO YOU: Who made me see things I could never see alone.
I thought I understood it, that I could grasp it, but I didn't, not really. Only the smudgeness of it: the pink-slippered, all-containered, semi-precious eagerness of it. I didn't realize it would sometimes be more than whole, that the wholeness was a rather luxurious idea. Because it's the halves that halve you in half. I didn't know, don't know about the in-between bits: the gory bits of you, and the gory bits of me.
-- Like Crazy
3:05
Exactly what I'm feelin these past few days.
Masaya naman ako. May mga bagay at iilang taong nagpapasaya. Pero hindi ko maaaring isantabi ung pakiramdam na
Malungkot.
Sa loob. Sa kaibuturan nan damdamin. Sa kasuluk-sulukan nan utak ko,
Yung lungkot na nakakalimutan lang pag pinapasaya ka ni "special someone."
Pero hindi naman talaga nawawala. Ni hindi nababawasan. Mas nadadagdagan pa nga. Mas lumalala.
Hindi rin naman ako wasak.
Malungkot lan talaga.
Yung mabigat na lungkot.
Anhirap pasanin.
Ansakit sa buong pagkatao.
Yung gugustuhin mong matulog nalang at di na magising pa.
Sana.
Sunday, January 11, 2015
La douleur exquise
The heart-wrenching pain of wanting someone you cannot have.
NP: Gilid by Moonstar88
Saturday, January 10, 2015
Thursday, January 8, 2015
9:31
"Mahal kita. Sa kahit anong anggulo nang buhay mo."
Sa tanang buhay ko, yan na yata ang pinakamatamis na salitang narinig/nabasa ko. Daig pa niya un sangkatutak na mahalna mahal na mahal kita o yung i love you forever, pati na yung sandamakmak na love quotes at mga linyang pampelikula nina Marvin at Jolina.
Maiksi lang yan. Mababaw ang mga salita pero anlalim ng kahulugan. Yung tipong mahal ka niya kahit na gulong-gulo angbuhok mo at ampangit pangit mo sa umaga paggising mo. Yun tipong mahal ka niya kahit sobran bantot nan utot mo o sobrang lakas nan pag-burp mo. Yun tipong mahal ka niya kahit baduy ka, pangit ka, mataba ka, bobo ka, makinis man o ndi, matangkad o maliit, mayaman o mahirap, may pinag-aralan o wala.
Yun tipong mahal ka niya kahit ikaw na ang pinaka-messed up na tao sa mundo.
Yung pagmamahal na tanggap ka sa kung ano ka pa. Sa kung ano ka dati, kung ano ka ngayon at kung ano pa ang kasadlakan mo sa hinaharap.
Yung pagmamahal na hindi mapanghusga.
Pagmamahal na totoo. Pure sabi nga nila.
A love that knows no boundaries. Limitless. Unconditional.
Parang ung tipo ng pagmamahal mo.
At higit sa lahat, yung tipo ng pagmamahal na ibinibigay Niya.
Sa tanang buhay ko, yan na yata ang pinakamatamis na salitang narinig/nabasa ko. Daig pa niya un sangkatutak na mahalna mahal na mahal kita o yung i love you forever, pati na yung sandamakmak na love quotes at mga linyang pampelikula nina Marvin at Jolina.
Maiksi lang yan. Mababaw ang mga salita pero anlalim ng kahulugan. Yung tipong mahal ka niya kahit na gulong-gulo angbuhok mo at ampangit pangit mo sa umaga paggising mo. Yun tipong mahal ka niya kahit sobran bantot nan utot mo o sobrang lakas nan pag-burp mo. Yun tipong mahal ka niya kahit baduy ka, pangit ka, mataba ka, bobo ka, makinis man o ndi, matangkad o maliit, mayaman o mahirap, may pinag-aralan o wala.
Yun tipong mahal ka niya kahit ikaw na ang pinaka-messed up na tao sa mundo.
Yung pagmamahal na tanggap ka sa kung ano ka pa. Sa kung ano ka dati, kung ano ka ngayon at kung ano pa ang kasadlakan mo sa hinaharap.
Yung pagmamahal na hindi mapanghusga.
Pagmamahal na totoo. Pure sabi nga nila.
A love that knows no boundaries. Limitless. Unconditional.
Parang ung tipo ng pagmamahal mo.
At higit sa lahat, yung tipo ng pagmamahal na ibinibigay Niya.
8:58
Someone just kind of reminded me that I needed to update my blog.
But then, mula noon, I already find it hard to express my thoughts.
Sa totoo lan andami kong gustong isulat. Andaming mga bagay ang lumalangoy sa utak ko. Mga bagayna hindi mailabas nan bibig. Pero sa tuwina, hirap akong huliin ang mga bagay na 'to. Kaya ang nanyayari, naiipon na lan sila. Minsan nawawala nanan kusa, pero mas madalas nabubulok na lan.
Kaya ang epekto, bumabaho. Sumisingaw. Napopollute ang utak ko.
Kalawangin na nga, polluted pa.
Tch.
But then, mula noon, I already find it hard to express my thoughts.
Sa totoo lan andami kong gustong isulat. Andaming mga bagay ang lumalangoy sa utak ko. Mga bagayna hindi mailabas nan bibig. Pero sa tuwina, hirap akong huliin ang mga bagay na 'to. Kaya ang nanyayari, naiipon na lan sila. Minsan nawawala nanan kusa, pero mas madalas nabubulok na lan.
Kaya ang epekto, bumabaho. Sumisingaw. Napopollute ang utak ko.
Kalawangin na nga, polluted pa.
Tch.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)