I don't know why I even bother. Talo naman ako parati. I shouldn't feel like you're a competition but I can't help it, you're taking away the little things I want, when you already have everything. Naaasar ako, hindi sayo, sa sarili ko. Kasi I've told myself so many times that I won't get affected, but I always do. Because even if no one asks, even if no one cares, I'm fragile too. And right now, I feel broken.

just when I thought there's nothing more to give.
i chose you and discovered the million things I haven't given him yet.

you are mine, forever to keep

some people measure their pains by the seasons that passed.
i measure mine by the years.

some people forget when they stop talking about it.
some people forget when they talk about it a lot.
i don't forget. simple as that.

some people recover as fast as they had fallen.
i keep on falling.

some people bounce back as if nothing happened.
i never hit the ground.

some people move on to another when the time requires change.
i never move on.

some people stop when they tell themselves to.
i cheat myself by dreaming.

some people capture your heart.
i will never so much take hold of your hand.

some people pass by and you would never chase them back.
i will run, come morning i will be by your side again.

some people, they never mattered to you.
i am different, i am your friend.

some people they will never understand. they never try.
you always did.

some people, they never measured to my expectations.
you also never did. so i pulled them back so you would.

some people, they try to penetrate my world.
i have built mine around you.

some people will get tired of my complicated life.
i pray you never do.

some people love me.
but i love you.

Rangers

I think I know.

I have one too many reasons to stop being black and white but I can't help it. It's just the way I am. I know they find it funny, an anecdote while drinking even, how I've only had two suitors and I didn't even say yes to one of them. I'm not easy. I'm not saying they are, It's just I need time. I take too much time actually.

I'm too complicated, I don't even understand myself. I wish I'm more complicated though. I don't know what I want. I want to be found. To have something big. to be a Nana and have Ren. or be Nana and have Nana. i don't know!!!!

Maybe I don't want to be found, maybe not as much as finding thrills me.

On s’en va sans savoir

been listening to La Meme Histoire all night. well actually all morning too, since 11 last night til what, 6 am? hahaha! i don't know what to feel listening to it. I guess it brings back the feeling I had when i watched one of the short films from Paris, Je T'aime. The one about a man who was waiting for his wife at a restaurant. all the while, thinking about things he hates about her. how she wears her favorite red jacket all the time, and promises she'd throw it away but never does. how she sings only one song over and over again while she cooks. how he always seem to order the better food when they're eating out because she always seem to like his better than what she ordered. and so now in the restaurant, he's waiting for her so he could tell her he's leaving her for a younger, sexier woman. so she arrives, in her favorite red jacket, and sits opposite him. they stare at each other for a while, she was smiling. and then all of a sudden, she starts to cry. and the man was thinking, could she have found out about the younger, sexier woman? and then out of her bag she pulls out this white paper, and he reads it and finds out she's sick and has only a little while to live. he embraced her, and decided not to leave her. he started doing things for her, taking long walks with her, reading a book to her. He listens to her sing while she cooks, and would hug her from behind resting his chin on her shoulder. he said by acting like a man inlove, he fell inlove again. but the wife died, and since then everytime he sees anyone in a red jacket he feels an intense loneliness.

i don't know how long that film was, a little more than 5 minutes I guess, but it made me so incredibly sad. made me cry, actually. even if I was watching it with Franco and Karize. there were no dialogues, just the man narrating everything. talking of how he feels, of what is happening, so most of the time there's just silence. my ged, parisians are so irritatingly romantic. i don't get kilig over old people, and this one is about a couple in their late 40s or early 50s maybe but it was so beautifully done. I can't wait for Karize to get back in LB so I can get my copy. I want to watch it before the New York, I Love You movie comes out (this August, I think).

so anyway, Feist is tired of singing La Meme Histoire in my itunes, but I'm still not over with the song. I feel both light and sad listening to it. It's not always that I feel this certain, I don't know, peace.

on trying and gaining back my bestfriend

Sir Piocos read my concept paper and poem in class today. He said my entry about how I came up with the concept was much better and more sincere than my poem. That it was actually more poetic. It was actually more of a dear diary thing and I was afraid he’d say how teeny-bopper it was, haha! But he liked it at least, said it was mature and well, poetic. He’s not a fan of the poem though. Ugh.

So anyway, I think it’s about time I make time for writing. Something well though of but not trying too hard. Shit before this semester ends I have to atleast be chosen once for the best poem, im so tired of waiting for MY time. I have to make it happen. Demmit.

Which brings me to Monday night talk with Chase Isip. Funny how we can talk now like we used to when we were still bestfriends-bestfriends. And I had the longest discussion with him about me trying to actually get this guy, and when I couldn’t stress the point why it’s so important for me to try, I just had to tell him. So I did. Mark and I debated on this almost everyday for what, two weeks now. Because I see no point in telling him what’s already passed, Mark says I should just for the heck of it. And now Chase and I are sharing one too many laughs about it. And when I look back, I realize it is funny. Brought us closer I guess. And now he understands, how when it was during his time I never once tried to make him love me, that whenever girls would come to his life I would shut up and simply wait for MY time. and now I just felt the need to find out whether things would be different for me if I try. I know how hopeless and pointless fighting a losing battle is. But after 3 years I realized I’m never really the kind to get tired of hoping. But when Chase looked at me so seriously and said “maawa ka naman sa sarili mo” I felt ridiculously pathetic. He said I should stop trying to change just because I don’t feel enough. He asked me if I don’t feel that I am at least worth someone who’d love me because I’m simple and a million party nights away from being aggressive. I’m crazy sad because of how things are going for me, but on one side I feel extremely happy because I have chase to lean on to. Even if he feels he’s not helping, he’s the biggest help I have right now.

I guess this is a long enough entry to compensate for my absence these past few days. So, til tomorrow. I wait and no one will come. Fucket I’m kidding.

for balance, instead of ranting about my nonexistent lovelife, I've decided to talk about how shitty my academics are going. well, the reality is that it will all go down to my being irresponsible, but creative writing is not exactly only about sense of responsibility, but talent as well. i look back at all the poems i've done only to realize that they are all wrong. sure, writing is about saying how you feel and all that crap, but apparently there is a right way of doing it.

this is my version of free writing, so for 5-10 minutes i will rant nonstop about not being talented enough. i'm talented at so many things, waiting for one, waiting forever, second. but not so much in writing. I may be the most normal being there is. I am absolutely ordinary and it sucks the life out of me. There is nothing worst in the world than being ordinary.Franco says love for writing is enough reason to go on, but I realize love for writing will not exactly sell, it could only do so much, like pass Eng106 for example(Please Lord, let me must pass eng106).

i'm so tired of wanting something so bad and being contented in watching it from afar. actually, contented is not the right word, more like limited. i have no idea what kind of magic the invisible wall that separates me from my dream is made of. restriction, maybe. i want to free myself from the religious constrictions I have, from the family values I value so much so i can be free to write whatever I want. but the reality is that I don't even know what I want to write about. just that I want to write, that much I know.

I don't want anything else. I just want to write! no purpose, no goal. i just want to write. and yet my heart seeks the acceptance of those around me. I want to be good. my god, I'm never good enough for anything, am I?

Nikko says the problem with poetry is that it's so arbitrary. what may be good for one may suck for someone else. i don't care about anyone else, the acceptance of my professors are enough. one unbelievably flattering compliment and i might, might, might find hope in writing again.

don't get me wrong, leaving writing has never crossed my mind. this is my life. i know no other thing than writing. but sometimes, instead of freeing me from my pains, it causes me greater distress. I believe in loving what you do and doing what you love, and more than the silly boys in my blogs, writing is my one great love. but i'm getting nowhere. i have absolutely nothing wonderful to offer the world. you won't exactly get somewhere by fading away, will you? i don't want to fade away. i'm no kurt cobain, and if ever i do fade away, atleast let me do it with honor. with my own Come As You Are.

i'm not making any sense, am I? i don't usually make sense. i sort of just rant and rant and i usually don't know how to stop. I have nothing to write, tomorrow's the deadline for the Eng106 poem, and I'm tired of making something only good enough to pass. my 35/50, 15/25 and 35/50 is not good enough. no! ONE MAD IDEA! how hard is that?

my god. i've been waiting 3 hours now, where is he?

dama de noche

i found i have a knack for waiting. expecting follows.
the day's bipolar weather made me undesirable in any way possible.
and in the shower i thought of the night i am to spend with you.
dreamsounds in the background
and invisible arabesques on the wall.
you will be busy studying, and i'll be busy pretending.
i spent an entire half hour tending to myself.
a big shirt and tiny-teeny shorts were enough
but instead of smoke and sweat from an all day's work
i smelled like mango passion fruit.
in the confines of my apocryphal universe
where you fall like the nobleman
for dama's fragrance,
i will win your heart
in a one night's time.
feet crossed, chin propped on one palm
i tried putting the thought away
til later when it is real.
cynthia alexander was singing
loud in my ears
and i felt you touch my shoulder
lightly, gently, like a feather
about to fly away.
you were dressed to leave
and i betrayed you with a smile,
i asked you to take care
and you promised you would be back.

feet crossed, chin propped on one palm,
i wait again for forever.
til then, tonight and nights after,
i am your dama de noche.

September all over again

this time, it's no longer just plain painful. last night i was happy. my arms intertwined with yours, you once again played your finger on my palm. i showed you how to do it, you kept doing it wrong but the truth is you can do it any way you want, i'd be glad just to have a part of you touching a part of me.

i'll remember every detail, it will be a crime to forget. I remember every song you sang last night, everything you said. I remember the faces you made when i said something stupid or funny, or when i got over-emotional. I remember the way my cheek touched your shoulder when you were showing me how to twist my hand.

my god, i sound so obsessed!

shiny red balloon spoils everything

barbie, listen please
my little boy blue is stuck
outside waiting for it to stop
one two three
the rain is falling
can you hear?
i can

barbie, sing me to sleep
make me forget for a while
the rain outside
is pouring inside
the tears are coursing
down my back

barbie, stop lying
i have you to blame
it's pointless waiting
but you keep singing
and i keep waiting
and no one will come

barbie, i'm sorry
the world is turning black
paint it back to blue
i'll wait a little longer
i promise i will
til then fill me
with the darkness that is
you

M is for Misery

I know, eventually, like him, I will have to let you go. And it hurts to know I always have to be the one to stay behind while others walk beside you, it hurts that after the long painful journey I had with him, I'm still here treading a longer walk with you. i can stop halfway and run back, but my heart won't let me. and i keep welcoming thoughts of you, and us together only to realize at the end of the day that it can never be.

I put too much effort into this, more than things I did for him. If there's anything I got from this, it's that now I have him to lean on. nakakatawa, pero nakakairita. we're improving, i thought we were. that night we talked for hours, laughing hysterically about the most mundane things, you lulled me to sleep with your finger mapping the lines on my palm, i had my hand resting on your chest, we were listening to dreamsounds, I was so happy. That night ended with her head resting on your shoulders as you brushed her hair with your fingers, you went home hand in hand. i felt so defeated.

this is not a race, if it is, she'd be halfway through. i could atleast run and find out how far my feet would take me, but is it stupid pointless to run and lose? the second placers don't really matter that much, I know, I've always been second. never first. never only. always second.

you make me feel so ugly.

One day, I have to get up, get out and run as fast as I can to the farthest my feet will take me.

You won’t be there. No one will be. Just me. Finally only myself to blame for my own miseries. God knows how much I’d rather you take me. How much I’d rather I take you with me to my escape. You to ride bikes with me in the fields of Tuscany. You to lean on as I get emotional listening to sad Spanish guitar. You to walk hand in hand with in the bazaars in Bangkok. You to wait for while you’re at work. You to fight with over directions. You to make up with after a long fight. You to laugh with after a long day at work. You to wait for, so we can eat dinner together. You beside me after I painted our new living room wall. You, you, you. I know it will never happen, and it breaks me.

They asked me what hurts more, is it that you don’t love me, or is it that you love my friend? The truth is I don’t know. Just that it hurts. And I need it to stop. I thought I wonderful that you got me over him. But you got me through the pain only to prepare me for the worst.

Someday I will run away, just me. And I know that the world is so beautiful that I will forget whatever pain I felt with you, or with anyone. I fear I will return, I fear I will look back and feel indebted to return to this place. And you won’t be there waiting.

feb18

i feel cruel for giving promises i know i won't be able to keep. i feel unappreciative for being given something i wished for and not wanting it because i can't be given the one thing i really want. i feel tired of not having a relevant thing to say other than my pains that no one really cares about. i feel alone, and it's so unfair because people try to come in and i keep myself tightly shut. i feel vulnerable to anything. i feel like a shallow, insecure, morose bitch. just because i've never felt this ugly as when i have to stand beside her, as when i have to talk to her and realize just how perfect she is.

i want to drown every bit of insecurity i have with all the feelings i have for you. then i'll be relieved of all my pains. sometimes i can't help but wonder if things would've been different if i was even just slightly good enough for you. but i know i've already lost the battle before i even step into the field. i know i won't even be able to run the race to vie for your heart because i know anyone can win except me. and it makes me feel so insecure. and i try really hard, i do. but you just can't see past everything you've known. no matter how i change, no matter how i try to be different, you will always always see past it and see the old me. the same way i see the old you.

i wish i could've gone back halfway through the race so i could still have a little part of me left, so i could start anew. but i've nothing more left here. just this sick sick tune i can't stop singing.

valentines drama

i can't stick around for nothing.
i can't wait forever.
i can't be alone always.
i can't be whole for you.
i can't cry for you.
and i can't give you everything.

things i can't do for the things i've already done. i can't give anything i haven't given before. there's nothing more left of me except this wretched me, and i can't expect you to stay but i do. because i expect too much, too much from you. leave me if you can't help but let this happen again. let me wait all night, let me feel so sorry for myself. chase said i shouldn't expect too much from you because i'll only get disappointed it's funny how i take advices from him now. but alone today, i had noone to talk to. and sure the tears took me by surprise as i swore i will never cry, but i didn't cry for you, i did for myself. i needed it.

black and white

the truth is the things i regret i would've done over and over again if given the chance. these are the times i spent with you. my own hell that i invite myself to. just so i could burn in the heat of your drunken embrace, just so i could feel a little warmth of something you wouldn't give out in the sun. amidst strangers and friends carried away by the heat and darkness, i can pretend we're alone. you are different. in the darkness, behind the fog and smoke, you are different. and if i have to stay out of the light forever, i would. if it means i would have another chance of a pseudo happiness, to cover up the truth that i would only remain happy until tomorrow. and i would again regret it the next day. and then do it again if i have another chance.

i know i don't make much sense. but last night you said i am to you what he is to her. a bestfriend. and yet, it's the sweetest thing i've ever been told. only because it came from you.

tomorrow i'll be back to black and white. being grey is not that fun i realized. but one day i will be grey again for you. just so we could share another dance.

for once it's not for you

i think my heart is as fragile as a balloon now, one more pain and it'll pop. and there is only one constant prayer in my lonely nights before i surrender to sleep and that is that he'll turn it into a stone.

i need something permanent. i deserve that. i don't need someone to stay only when he wants to. but i don't want to ask you to stay around, i know i'm not that easy to understand. i know it will be too much to ask, i know i've given away my heart and the only thing left is a finger, nothing compared to the fist-sized beating machine. so how about i say i give you something to hold on to, would you promise to never let go.

i promise i would try. would you promise you would too?

nothing lasts forever

i asked Nicole to do me a favor and stop me when the time comes that i actually want to get married. she's probably laughing about it now. but I'm serious. the white fluffy gowns and fancy ten-storey cake is the biggest cover-up of the biggest crime in the world. giving yourself to someone you think you know, only to spend/waste half your life with your 'partner' and realize you can't live with each other. really, nobody stays together anymore. if they do it's all because of the kids, and do they actually think the fighting and hurting doesn't affect the kids at all. it's so sick! i can't believe i actually had a dream wedding, i can't believe I've fantasized about dropping the kids to school and all that family stuff. SPARE ME!

I've written so much about it, but in the end, i still don't understand it. Love is shit. I don't want to believe in it anymore. I'd like to say i don't believe in it at all but then again i would have to take it back someday. and i don't want to have to. I HATE THIS!

just today i did a good thing. especially for someone lazy like me. and it's not like i expect to be treated so nicely about it. i mean, he did say thank you, almost a whisper, almost incomprehensible. and the funny thing is (but who's laughing) if i could go back and have another choice, i'd do it again! how crazy am i?

hello hell again

haven't talked to anyone about it for a long time. it just didn't make sense, and people are getting tired with the story anyway, i know i'm tired. and i also figured it would stop hurting, or that IT would simply stop if i stop writing and talking about it. which is why my tears took me by surprise when i talked to Gel.

i'm okay. it's not just something i tell people when i try to avoid the conversation that is already way overdue. i really am okay. most of the time. i'm not over it, i'm far from moving on, but i've learned the best way to cope with pain, and it's to live with it. so for the past gazillion months, that's what i've been doing. lying to myself and living with it. and it isn't so bad as it sounds, really.

there are so many things to worry and be sad about that THIS didn't seem worthy of my time. for one thing, i lost nikko, i'd like to think he lost us but he doesn't seem concerned. i am anyway, sad and still shocked. but here i am, crying over Jin and PJ's semi-breakup. just because i would rather i had been lied to and be wooed and told the things Jin was told, than to live this boring pathetic life. ofcourse also because i was sad for Jin, but that's another story.

well i figureed it's the time of the year. and maybe the Ber-wind do bring something else than the smell of damp grass and the sound of Jingle Bells. maybe. maybe because it reminds me that this is what, the third christmas already, that i have been wishing for the same thing.

i can't wait to graduate!!!

let me be kafka

i'm planning my escape.

i wanna go biking in Tuscany, sight-seeing in Santorini. or learn Japanese so i wouldn't have to look stupid and lost in Japan. i wanna see the Eiffel Tower, and sip coffee in the cafes in Paris. Eat Tapas in Spain. swim naked in Kuta Bali (or not). do whatever illegal things that's legal in Amsterdam. i wanna lie on my back on fields of grass and let the Aurora Borealis tuck me to sleep and ride a gondola on the canals of Venice. I wanna

mostly i just wanna run away. to the farthest place my feet can take me. and the only sure thing is that i might see Aurora Borealis, and Niagara Falls. or Denise might be able to order me some Tapas, what with her Spanish-speaking skills? haha!

i know that some things don't come out right, i don't wanna leave the people i love. it's just, even though i know it's nothing else but cowardly, escape is my only way

dreams come true.

for the entire day my mind is preoccupied by this dream(which some chosen people, thanks to my informative gm, know) i had this morning. and i wondered if it's possible for me to lose my head over depression, but who am i kidding? i was able to survive the last three years so i can't think of anything that could possibly make situations worse except that the longer i stay, the more i get drowned.

oh well. atleast my day was a little better thanks to shopping. aside from the new clothes, i got myself new staedler pens, a unipin pen(because i was right, the pilot drawing pen i used is not available here), chaka two new books! Haruki Murakami's After Dark, and Gabriel Garcia Marquez' Memories of my Melancholy Whores. i'm so happy!! really.

about the dream:
Miggy: so what's so bad about that?
Me: edi yung waking up part. tas you're lying in bed for the next half hour thinking, IT WAS SO REAL! haha
Miggy: well, dreams do come true.

yeah, they do, don't they? for princesses, and poor matchgirls in storybooks. but for the rest of us, dreams remain in our sleep.