True Friends

I wonder if anybody feels this as much and as often as I do. That would be overstating what I really am experiencing. But sa it has become more and more evident to me, kahit mababaw ang kaligayahan ko, masakit ako makaramdam ng sakit.

Hindi naman sa sakit ang nararamdaman ko. It really isn't that. I just feel so small. One of my sincerest wishes is to matter into peoples lives. Oh well, I'm only ever in their lives for short moments, it shouldn't surprise me anymore that I matter so little. Maybe I should focus my efforts.

Doing that just makes me feel so selfish though. I know this may seem like quite a claim, but I love my friends. Many though they are, they are far in between, and it becomes thoroughly difficult for me to make them feel what I want them to feel. Gusto ko ng best friend. Mundo wala ba diyang available?

Dapat sana meron diba? Dapat sana meron na, pero ang layo mo, hindi lang layo sa literal. Nahihirapan narin yata akong abutin ang puso mo. At nabibitak-bitak narin ang puso ko dahil sa lamig ng mundo. Hindi ako masaya.

Olats

If ever there was a time for anyone to feel inadequate, it is now. It is today and the next day and the next next day. Because today, we are reminded of how horribly we did during our own application periods. Which brings me back to love. Of all the bloody things this blog is dedicated to, there willl always be those recurring snipets of introspection into how the disease called love factors into our lives. Mahal ko ba talaga ang Cursor? Heaven knows I'm not enjoying it as much as I realy ought to. How much chould I enjoy it? Muling tinatamad si ma'am na magturo at pagkatapos nito, kami naman ang mag-lelecture.

The Wiener - Hopf equations for logical weight adjustment. As far as prioritization is concerned, I would like to pose the question, how do you satisfy cursor? How do you upset it beyond reconciliation? If you manage either, will it help others do the same?

I wil admit that it takes courage to completely sever yourself from something so large. To have been a part of something so rich and large is to hold over yourself a rich history you never trully experienced as a whole. While I feel its weight, I feel there should be more. There is no more love. There is no more love in what I feel for this lunk of people. What holds us together teeters by a thread. I miss cursor though I haven't left. I miss cursor, so that I inted to leave. I do not know why I feel this way.

Bigla Atang Bumoring ang Buhay...

Naiirita ako kapag walang masaya na nangyayari sa buhay. Naiirita ako kapag walang stressful na nangyayari sa buhay. Para ngang bumibilis ang paglipas ng mga araw pero mas boring naman ang buhay. Bakit ganoon. Bakit minsan hindi sapat na mahal ako ng iniibig ko? Bakit minsan di sapat na pumapasa na ako sa mga subjects ko? Bakit minsan hindi sapat na minamahal na ulit ako ng magulang ko? Bakit hindi sapat na malapit kami ng kapatid ko? Bakit hindi sapat na may mga kaibigan ako? Bakit hindi sapat ang holding hands? Bakit hindi sapat ang buhay? Bakit hindi sapat ang ligaya? Hindi pa lubusang nagpapaalam ang sakit sa buhay ko, pero bakit namimis ko na siya? Para akong napag-iwanan ng matalik na kakilala.

Para akong tinakwil. Bakit kaya? Parang lumang hangin ang hinihinga ko. Parang napakatagal na nang huli kong malanghap ang tunay na buhay...

Lucky

if there is one person who would take care of you when you are sick

count yourself lucky...

if there is one person who would cook you hot soup to warm your soul

count yourself lucky...

if there is one person who would hurry to get you the medicine you need

count yourself lucky...

if there is one person who would let you, tired and feverish, lay in their bed without a second thought

count yourself lucky...

if there is one person who would stay by your side in the heat, while you burn from the inside

count yourself lucky...

if there is one person who would rub you down to keep your fever at bay

count yourself lucky...

if there is one person who, when nothing else was to be done, would hold you in their arms

count yourself lucky...

I am very lucky. There are two such people in my life.

I am also most miserable. Because they hate each other so.

Mom, you have no idea how much my Love has cared for me. You have no idea what life she has breathed into me.

Love, I know what my Mom has done is unforgivable, but I ask you to find it in your heart to give her another chance, should she ever realize to take it

Time Flies

one year, eleven months, one day, ten hours, and 42 minutes...

Each night I wake fevered with the repressed feeling I save for you.

one year, eleven months, one day, ten hours, and 43 minutes...

I can't peel my thoughts away from you...

one year, eleven months, one day, ten hours, and 45 minutes...

I can't help but think about how you are...

one year, eleven months, one day, ten hours, and 50 minutes...

I can't help but wonder if right now, you're dreaming about me...

On Hope

reposted from a lost journal - Nov. 25, 2004 at 06:25 PM

[... and how most of it is all wishfull thinking]

She found herself in a bar, half a lit cigarette in her lips, her fingers tipped with ash specks. She had a lukewarm Martini in front of her, its glass beaded with dew to the clear liquid's edge. New faces danced to her muted background while the bartender dried shot glasses at the corner of her eye.

She lowered her cigarette and inhaled the hazy atmosphere. It felt like her first breath, like gasping after a long dive. The warm club air filled her chest and the scene came alive, the thumping music resonating in her lungs, resuscitating her still heart while the club lights cut through the smoke and into the dark mirrors.

The bar counter was cold, and she was alone. As she thought to turn and watch the heaving mass of dancing people, she felt warm hands slip over hers from behind, and lift the cigarette from between her fingers. A man was lighting his cigarette with hers. His other arm still over hers, as he looked her in the eye...

On how beautiful music is really sadder than it first seems...

[...and simply how much more beautiful it is than you thought it could ever be]





I heard a song on the radio today, and like most songs I end up thoroughly loving, I just had to get a copy. And like most songs I first hear, whose lyrics I'd only then heard, whose titles and artists still escape me at the goodbye kiss of the last few notes, I search them out from what I remember of the chorus.

... and I know I know I wasn't right, but it felt so good
... and your mother didn't mind, like I thought she would
... and an REM song was playing in my mind

... three and a half minutes felt like a life time

like most songs about that topic, it 'tugged at my heart' beyond and deeper than most other songs really should and ever ought to. It felt so soft and warm when I first heard it. That only gave my soul up to the sorry heartbreak that only the first few verses I missed (while changing channels) and the last few verses I overlooked (memorizing the chorus lyrics) could deliver.

...Allie woke up, 8 am, graduation day
...Got into a car, and crashed along the way.

...When we arrived late, to the wake
...Stole the urn while they looked away
...And drove to the beach, 'cause I knew you'd want it that way

the song was a flashback - in the memory of a lover at the dusk of innocence. Nothing beats the remorse for a dawn that never fully shone, or love that never trully blossomed or anything, for that matter, that we mourn for a death at conception.

...And I went to my room, played that disc that you'd given me
...And I shut my eyes, swear I could hear the sea
...When we were standing on the hood of you car, singing out loud when the sun came up

It's when you hear songs like these that you wish you'd have gotten to know the one for whom it was written, if only to stem the tightness curdling in the vicinity of your heart. For Allie, it is a sincere wishful thought that I conjure, where you trully enjoyed those beautiful moments and that your life, while short, was full. And for BETTER THAN EZRA, I thank you for skewing me away from some much needed study and allowing me to be depressed by the reminder that, at a month short of two years, I am, as yet, unable to fully express even the barest of the extent of my pent up affection for its sole object. You know who you are and I know you think you know how I feel. The truth of the matter is, I miss you more than you can possibly imagine. My heart only still beats because of you.

...Are you sitting in the lights?
...Or combing your hair again
...And talking in rhymes?
...Are you sitting in the lights?