Consider these the love letters I never sent you. and you. and you. whomever.

Signed, Sealed and Delivered

2011-09-06T15:46:00.001+08:00

That night when I fell asleep in your arms, in front of the ocean and under the stars - my idea of home, you may have not known but that was the point in our lives when I had fully submitted my whole being to that which terrifies and excites me - our life together. In a very long while, I had not let myself be safe and comfortable anywhere beyond the confines of my little world. But there I was, passing out and letting go and there you were, patiently just being there. Whoever said this should be easy doesn't know jack shit because it has been said and proven that it's the level of difficulty that determines the level of commitment and strength of the new being sprung from the union of our individual ones. I am optimistic but I would always expect the worst because I have been so terribly crushed over and over by being blindsided by life and its workings.

I am torn between learning from the past and taking a leap of faith which is truthfully no longer such because the proof and evidence of your goodness should be enough for me to know with undeniable certainty that you are nothing like the bastards who have come before you. My selfish ways hinder me from letting you feel how strongly I feel. Enough should be enough but we both know it never would be because we have not even seen the best and worst of what could be.

I suppose I could go on and on with this non-sensical rambling which is meant to be an apology because sorry has been so overly used and somewhere lost its essence. I do apologize for who I am and for subjecting you to the same. I am unfixable but I sincerely believe that where I fall short, you would be able to complement and fill in. With no further dramatic semantics, I just want to say, "I'm in."

What the Palm Said

2011-05-31T12:54:00.000+08:00

I am still inevitably bothered by what the palmists have said about my destiny (Palmists because I always get a second opinion) - that I would definitely be successful in every endeavor professionally but a lot of men would come and go and nothing would last... Until I decide I'm ready to get married which sucks because I'm nowhere near that point. Yes, I'm this independent little lady with commitment issues. But that doesn't mean there are things that I don't want too - like the idea of being settled with one man and having kids and a happy ever after.

So I asked what I'm supposed to do now. I am living with this indecision which to prioritize, my career or my social life AKA my love life. I like being single but I like having that one person to rely on when my superpowers fail me. I was told I need to make that decision first, before what follows can be read for sure. I love that I am not being told what to do by my palm; But, being advised of the consequence of my decisions instead.

I love my job. I feel blessed everyday for having it. I worked hard for it. I sacrificed a lot for it... Even the one person I considered spending the rest of my life with. There are times, though, when I have to wonder if I love it enough to give up the things that I truly want - like a partner, traveling, parties and sleeping at night & waking up in the morning. Wow that just made me realize how much I have to give up. Is it worth it? I can never tell for sure.

I love the feeling of being loved and the security that comes with it. Everyday I tell myself I can take care of ME and I don't need anyone else to do it - which is true... Except I like having someone to take care of too. It just sucks that I have this personal rule not to fall for someone from work and that makes maintaining a love life impossible because with my work schedule, I am not left with enough chances to be out there.

That, I believe, is where the indecision stems from. If I really wanted to be with someone, I can just be with someone from work. How convenient, yes? But what happens if he or I moves on to another company? Would the relationship be left behind too? The unknown would forever terrify me (And it terrifies me more than ever because of experience).

For someone who likes taking spontaneous trips and exploring new places, I'm sure not many people know that I am afraid of the unknown... That I like staying safe with certainty and promises and guarantees. Why can't my adventurous nature just kick my fear's ass?

Until I do make up my mind, my palm would just give off haze and white noise. So I hope a sign helps me decide on what I would value most. Soon.

It takes time

2010-10-31T06:42:00.002+08:00

To heal when you hurt so fucking much.

I suppose I don't realize how badly my heart was broken until these moments of happiness and hope are terribly ruined with various information that I don't need but can't help but ask for. Tonight, I found out he took his new baby love to 48 Maywood Ave. Nobody knows if he introduced her to the family or what but upon this revelation, I felt my chest ache with that ache that no drug can cure and no run to the ER can relieve. This would not be my death. I've overcome the hardest part - that much I know. I was just so thankful I was with a guy who has potential to be in my long-term future that I was able to hold myself together and not breakdown as I did when I was first told about the new girl. I can't help it. The tears just keep gushing out like the alcohol I've been chugging in the moment I got out of the car. I hope this new guy realizes that my extended tight hug was in gratitude for this night that I so would treasure. Step by step, I am healing.

Earlier today, I thought it was so strong of me to throw out the letters and the contents of our memory box. I can't bring myself to call it the X-Box really... because while I have grown accustomed to calling him my Ex, I cannot desecrate the special non-sense that are our mementos. I wonder what he has done to the stuff I returned in my anger that day I found the Valentine's Day tickets. I wonder how Princess Mumbles is, the very first and most special of everything he gave me; first, because he gave me the well-dressed bear on our first month together when my plans of getting him something were overshadowed and forgotten by the plan of recovering the money that was stolen from me that day. Second, because it came as an absolute surprise along with a blue rose and he kept it all hidden in the car and he waited for the end of our shift to drag me to the parking lot to give. (Now I realize it was such a romantic and thoughtful gesture.) Third, because Princess Mumbles was my comfort on those whole three months of break-up limbo. (Shall he come back to me or shall he end up with the hoebag I had the inkling was slowly stealing him from me?) Last, because... I know this is the last thing that would remind him of how beautiful our love was.

Judging by what he did to the soccer ball pillow his ex before me gave him, I'm guessing Princess Mumbles is nowhere near his room nor his house anymore.

So last night, I transferred condos and I discovered the most tragic thing. For unknown reasons, water got into my room and damaged everything on the floor. It was mighty a sign from God, I think. It was what prompted me to open the box. His 6th grade graduation photo was saved by some arcane force because the Lord knows that would mean to him more than to me when I send it back. But the letters, especially the two-page typewritten one that he came up with to convince me not to leave him on our first year, were soaked to the last shred. I tried to read them - because I didn't think I ever could again with how badly they were damaged. All his feelings and proof of his love where no longer of use for anything but the recycle bin, where they were meant to be in anyway months ago. I am ever the sentimental hoarder who keeps everything not because of what they mean to me but for their artistic value.

I am left with mixed emotions about moving on entirely and doing well. Thank God Bella confirmed that I feel this way not because I want him back but because I miss being the person treated so exceptionally. I can take comfort in the thought that I am a good person for letting him just be happy and not degrading myself to those former flames to stalk and ruin their beloved's pursuit of happyness. Good people are rewarded bountifully. And if I only took the time to look, I would see that I am that exceptional person to several new prospects. All I have to do is choose. But no, he is not one of the choices.

It's over. I am over it. It's just that broken hearts don't heal as fast as we expect them to. We just have to patiently let it.

(Edit: Two minutes upon writing this, my tears stopped and I am smiling for the good stuff again. ^_^)

I am the Flavor of the Month

2010-10-24T08:25:00.000+08:00

Hello Canada! I ♥ Canadians. Thank you.

I sort-of have this sort-of love affair with a co-worker. It's the sort-of kind of thing because although we mostly know what goes on in each other's daily lives, we have had a total of three face-to-face interactions (and by interactions, that include our first acquaintance when we talked all about work, our "Devil date" that had us talking for two hours tops because I still had to go to work, and the "Hey!" we exchanged when we crossed each other at the turnstile on my lunch break). I have convinced myself that our sort-of thing has not blossomed because our schedules did not allow us to spend more time together, or so I thought. (Wrong!) It was just nice to think that I lost B because God knew I deserve someone better... I deserve an "Ace". (Even more wrong!) But it was comforting. There was just one hurdle for my little lame fantasy - on top of my list of NOT to date: co-workers. For obvvvious reasons. This has been my self-imposed restriction way before Barney educated us on his Platinum rule.

These days I keep thinking about those times when I succumbed to office romance. At this point, I will not write about why and when and how. Let's focus on what these made me realize for the present. There were only two instances when I tried to mix work and pleasure - the first crashed and burned sooner than I even realized that we were already dating and that I had already dumped him and the second, well, crashed and burned the moment we set off for different careers. The only difference between those times and this time is... I had enough to work with then in convincing myself to give in than what this guy I have come to call Koko Krunch offers. (We were consistently sexting and one day, Poooft! he became Koko Krunch. Gone from the face of the earth.)

While I was taking the 21-day gameplay/strategy into consideration, I realized I just had to accept that he is just not that into me (Thank you, Greg!). I shall not over-analyze nor make excuses for him. I'll take the situation for what it is. And I will give thanks to the universe for making me see what a mess I am getting myself into. Again. I plan to make it big at work. Some dude bragging about our sexts would only jeopardize that. At my age, I don't have the luxury to take a wrong step in the career ladder anymore.

Next issue: Second on my list of NOT to date: dudes in clubs/bars

The Dream within the Dream

2010-10-09T09:46:00.000+08:00

Inception moment last night. Slept at 4 and somewhere into my subconscious, I found myself on the passenger seat of your Vios and we were going south on Mac Blvd. You were telling me about how exhausting your work was and when I told you never to torture yourself with a job that no longer fulfills you, I realized this could not have been reality. So I got upset and asked you what the hell you were doing in my dream. You have no fucking place in my mind. You stared at me like I was a mad man and tried to reasoned that it was all real and not a dream. I bit on my arms and when I felt no pain, I knew I just had to wake up. I became hysterical and cried and screamed with all my might. Finally I jolted awake.

I was in a strange bed in a strange room but all my stuff were there - my closet, my side table, my full-length mirror, even that thingy on my wall where I hang my bangles. I stepped out of the room and saw my parents' house. I went in to use the phone and dialed your home number. When a woman's unfamiliar voice picked up, I realized I was still fucking dreaming. Sick! I tried to enjoy it a bit more, went back to my room and saw a French maid's outfit in a hanger. Some kinky paraphernalia is what it was, complete with a whip, a gag and blindfolds. Tsk.

I don't quite remember how but I eventually woke up for real beside my sister at 7. Flip. To think that I only had 2 and a half bottles of Tanduay Ice.

A means to an end

2010-08-27T09:28:00.000+08:00

My rebirth took place a good few weeks ago. It was the moment when I officially stopped smelling of tears and I knew with undisputed certainty that I got back my unfathomable passion for life.

Get in. Get off. Get out.

The pixie dust stopped swirling from the acts of desperation... and settled all over me, making me shine and glitter like never before. I waited for that moment for years and finally experiencing it reinforced my belief that I can have anything and anyone I want if I let me. At first I thought it was vendetta that pushed me to do him. But the moment it was done, I knew I did it for me because that was who I am before the destruction that your love and lies have caused me.

No regrets. No mistakes. Just life.

I wonder what would happen if you found out. Haha.

I see your true colors shining through

2010-08-21T07:31:00.033+08:00

And I bet if lies had colors, they would exactly be of the same hues.

Amazing how love clouds our eyes from seeing the truth. But that doesn't mean I love love any less. I guess that's where the beauty of it all is. Everything I've been through has made me too awesome to be jaded anymore.

I woke up, and my imagination craved for a book. So I opened one of my dusty boxes and chose The Reader. From it fell a Christmas note from a former colleague wishing me well with my then-new squeeze. Ah... our first December 25th together. The day you told me you got your ex pregnant that's why you can't keep it up despite all the party favors. Remember? I truly hope you are performing better now. For your sake. I know I am. Just ask him and him. Tee-hee.

In 5 years, I'd officially be a cougar. Unless in God's good graces, some impressive dude meets my lofty expectations. I vow never to settle again. If you found her and you two are Über perfect together, I'm sure that guy on the same level as I am would find me too and we would color each other's life with the stuff that Crayola came up with.

I wonder when I'd get around to getting that rainbow tattoo on my right foot. Not that I'm not colorful enough as I am. I just want to. Because there's no one who can stop me.

If you seek Amy

2010-08-18T07:53:00.001+08:00

I catch you staring
I know you like what you see
When you're with her
I bet you think about me

Do something already! Haha. Oh too bad I'm not a tacky skank who would let her dream come true be another girl's nightmare.

I hope you know you're pleasing to the eyes yourself. Haha.

This is our last dance.

2010-08-14T01:45:00.001+08:00

Every day of this week has been incredibly sunshiny and jazzy with you in it. You have no idea how crazy you drive me with your boyish charm and irresistible dimples.

I long to learn more and more if the lessons would be taught by you. Tee-hee.

I love falling in and out of love on a daily basis. Oh, my whorish heart!

Caffeinated Brainfarts

2010-08-12T06:38:00.001+08:00

Once you go black, you never go back... To lights, that is. Marlboro Black is the best poison.

I miss Sbux's Peanut Butter bar. They're killing me by phasing it out. THAT is why I must not taste anything sinfully delicious. I easily get attached.

Bummer.

I am good luck and hard work.

2010-08-11T07:14:00.002+08:00

I know it's love when I take the bad with the good. So there. I love my job.

I may no longer be in love with it in the strictest sense but it still excites me every day.

Love. Love. Love.

These days... Who knows what it means?

2010-08-09T11:32:00.001+08:00

Norah: Are you sad we missed it?
Nick: We didn't miss it. This IS it.

This is it, then. The first hurrah.

***************************

He fell in love again with a photo that was taken a year ago. It wasn't my best shot but it was a night I remember being so happy in the company of friends and not because of any guy's presence... And because at the end of the day, I'm still a princess. I'm going on hiatus from FB and I shall leave you with that photo so every time you cyberstalk me, you'd fall in love over and over. Haha. xoxo

You may make me want to say fuck

2010-08-03T11:40:00.000+08:00

Whut. the. hell.

People behind Facebook! What's the deal with this thingy I just saw about couples being able to include their anni-fucking-versary on their profiles too?! What are you going to come up with next? Being able to link with ex-lovers? Fuck buddies as relationship status? A lot daily for sex?

People's vanity used to fascinate me. Now, it's just downright anno-fucking-ying. Online funn is losing the nn and being replaced with ck. Pffft.

They are the answers to my prayers

2010-08-03T11:05:00.003+08:00

All great literary works have sections in which everyone and everything that contributed to its completion are acknowledged. This is long overdue but I simply refuse to go on with the rest of my beautiful life not taking the time to tell of the people without whom I would not be my complete awesome self again. (Or at least without whom I wouldn't have whooped my lovely arse back to sanity) No names have been dropped in the lifetime of this blog but such grand post needs to be an exception.

My family. At the end of it all, the first people I can rely on would be you. You took me back when I came running home soaked in tears. I was wrong to let someone talk me into turning my back on you. Yes, we are not perfect. Yes, we are more dysfunctional than the Simpsons. But the Pablos still kick ass for sticking together through all the crap flung our way. Family must and shall come first.

Abigail. Oh dear. I do not know where to start to thank you for. You were the warning and the first aid. You were the voice of my head. Everything I knew I had to do but did not want to accept, you slapped my face with and it was exactly what I needed. Everything I knew I shouldn't do but wanted to, I didn't because you showed me that all it would amount to is zero. You missed work, got sick and who-knows-what and you kick ass for that. You were also the first to patiently listen to me. You never undermined the pain and you took what I felt seriously. You believed and with that faith, I learned to believe too.

Juliefish. Oh dear again. I wonder where you get your constant supply of Pasencia biskwits from. Even I annoy me with my disturbing sanity-flew-out-the-window ramblings. You just keep on answering my calls and replying to my SMS being the good friend that you are. I'm glad we became classmates in Junior year of high school. You truly are my rock. And who can ever forget the La Union trip you invited me to that successfully pulled me out of my Ang lungkot lungkot ko-matose state. You and I shall have more and more secrets to share and we'd be more and more kick ass by the day.

TM Jhe and FIB Wave 36. Guys, you kick ass! TM Jhe and her life anecdotes and offering the company's counselling services. Mark, Franny and Mama Ray and their enduring my drunken drama-rama spectaculah at the flat. Mervs and his One More Chance and It's Called a Break-up Because It's Broken. J.La and her intent listening to my never-ending thoughts all shift long. Di and her "This is not the end of me" mantra. Aeyts, Kit, Sigh and Barbs for simply always being around to give me a pat on the back. You are more than just my colleagues. You are my work siblings.

Joycee and Harly. The now-defunct Sunday Club. The hoebag bashing. The "That girl's so _ _!" in the mall when you see someone fugly. The GSM Blue and Calamansi soda. The swimming-swimming. You gals were the first to give me something to look forward to when I lost all that I knew. Need I say that you kick ass?

Hartemio. When you say you just checked on me because I just might hang myself, you actually aren't exaggerating. Your reply to everything is humor and that humor became my happy pill day in and day out. You're a kick-ass good guy and thank you for not denigrating me to merely someone who used to be your friend's girlfriend.

Mitzi. It took me a while to be okay around you because you were just proof of what I had lost. What I failed to see was you were in the same place too. You missing me made me remember my worth and made me realize I was missing the wrong person all along. You and I would always kick ass, from Alabang to Makati to Galera to BF to wherever.

Bella. If I ever had a therapist, it would be you (except you don't charge two grand per hour of silent observation). You and your psych analyses. You and your positivity. You and your nail buffer. Haha. We are friends because you kick ass too!

These are just the ones off the top of my head. If I failed to remember you, I'm sorry and please let me know right away. I'm hungry and exhausted and very very sleepy.

The Belle of San Miguel Avenue

2010-07-28T11:45:00.000+08:00

Ortigas has been the venue of many unforgettable roadside experiences for me. On my way from Medical Plaza to Coffee Bean, I was followed by a blood-red Chevy Cruze. At first I thought he was going to park by Octagon but when he continued to cruise beside me to the intersection, I had to stop and take a look at what was up. It was an absolutely kick-ass ride and I would've given the dude a chance if his first words to me weren't "Nice ass!". Ha!

Who can ever forget the bra incident on Pearl Drive???

Making room for new memories

2010-07-27T05:06:00.000+08:00

How the hay am I going to make new memories when all I want to do now is sleep and hibernate?! Haha. Ironic that I have become the you that I hated.

I wonder what it means that I am sleeping so soundly these days and waking up with a smile for the odd but exciting dreams I've been having... I so prefer to stay in and sleep sleep sleep over partying these days. Huh.

Destiny is the bridge you build to the one you love

2010-07-26T14:40:00.002+08:00

Boy: Have you no pity for his girlfriend? You're making a fool of her.
Girl: Huh. Look who's talking...?!@#$%

***

Girl: Why are we here after all these years?
Boy: Because you know me. Because I know you... And you're the coolest girl I know.

Ah. Everything happens for a reason. And the reason is you, honey ko.

As for the question of destiny... all I know is that even when destiny really wants to accomplish something, it can't do it alone. You still have to go to that restaurant. You still have to show up. You still have to build a bridge... to the one you love. --- Charlie Bellow, My Sassy Girl

♥♥♥

This is why I kick ass

2010-07-26T13:36:00.000+08:00

I rode the edge coaster, walked the sky walk and did everything looking lovely in the photos.

If I got over my fear of heights, there's mosdef nothing I can't do. So the man I deserve is someone who is not intimidated by how kick-ass I am. Not some man-child who gets insecure by my paycheck being double his.

***

A friend insisted cute means ugly but interesting. Well. I stand by Merriam-Webster and it defines cute as attractive, or pretty especially in a childish, youthful or delicate way. So yeah Abby, I'm still cute as can be. Meeeow. Or kick ass. KA if you may.

The 47-second Affair

2010-07-21T08:44:00.001+08:00

When I realized you were the one on the line, my heart started to flutter and it raised me up to a feeling so high, it was like being drunk and doped at the same time. Your voice was all my ears wanted to listen to... the rest of the world became a sequence in one of Charlie Chaplin's films. Your name slipped from my lips so casually and it felt like we were locked in a sweet sweet kiss. I had to close my eyes because the colors jumped out of objects and became so bright while they shimmered and glimmered. I felt enveloped with pixie dust and the only thoughts in my head were nothing short of happy ones. Time is ever longer in dreams and in that rather short phone call, I was in your arms, breathing in your distinct manly breath, and caressing your stubbly cheek with my soft own. You had no girlfriend. You were mine. Our future involved an intimate wedding on the beach, a 3-bedroom home in the South and babies. We named our baby champ Chase and our little princess Morgan. They grew up loved and sheltered but self-reliant and intent on being productive members of the society. We grew old in our simple beachfront manse and took our last breaths beside each other on the deck.

When we said goodbye, I was brought back to the reality that we could never be more than what we are now. It was lovely, still. I'd rather have had that short moment than not at all. And you would still be the person who makes me happy simply by existing.

What would you do for me my sweet cherubic baby
Ideally way up high and lovely

Inception is the SHIT!

2010-07-19T11:53:00.001+08:00

Some dude posted this on Twitter and I just have to say that unless you're African-American, it's just so wrong to use this word in the positive. For us normal people, this is still synonymous to crap or anal excrement or stool. Inception is mosdef not crappy. In fact, it's a film I prolly would be watching ten thousand times once I get a hold of a copy in DVD. If you're not coffee-skinned, don't use gangsta talk please. It's like using the N-word and we were all raised to be politically-correct. Don't disappoint me.

In other news, I was getting my nicotine fix on the 6th and in the absence of human interaction, a thought popped in my head. You know how couples are getting their uni-names these days like Brangelina, TomKat and Speidi? Well, if an assbag and a hoebag hooked up, they'd be called ASSHOE. Haha. I have the sickest way of entertaining myself.

Two years ago, I booked flights to Davao for four. Now, I'm booking flights to CamSur for two and I'm Über excited because this time, I'd only have to worry about spending for one. I kick ass.

Oh, someone in Thailand enjoyed reading my blog. Hello there. [I've been in this cyber-stalking business for so long that I know who reads me. *high five*]

Stay there because I'll be coming over

2010-07-18T05:34:00.004+08:00

A few weeks ago, I was at a friend's place when, by accident, we happened upon her box containing photos and memories of past boyfriends. Said box and similar boxes, for that matter, shall now be called the "X-Box".

I had the courage to open my own X-box yesterday. It's the only one I have... Because I never had any relationship before you that was long enough to have enough memories to fill a box. Ticket stubs, restaurant receipts, amusement park tags, photos, love letters and random things that would've otherwise been merely trash... They were all there, beckoning for me to come reminisce about the good old days and remember that before the hurt, there was joy and contentment. I've heard of many stories of how people ended up with cynicism and paranoia so strong that their hearts were too hardened to let anyone in after losing their hearts to someone who just threw it away. I waited in the past months for that moment for me to realize I have become just as they are... That the pain was so terrible that I just can't let myself fall in love again. It never came. On the contrary, I find myself softer and readier for love than ever. And it is still because of you.

Everyday I wake up and I am psyched to awaken to the possibility that that day could be the day when someone would make me so infinitely happy that I won't care if the same person could just leave me and break my heart again. That thought in itself is sooo beautiful. Thank you... for loving me so much to change me from the insanely cautious womyn that I was. I know I'd be a better girlfriend (or even wife) to the next dude because of your love.

There was this one letter you wrote in which you enumerated all the things you liked about me. It's nice to think that for someone who hates expressing deep emotions, you wrote me letters. Haha. Love letters are still the best way to show one's love, I strongly believe. Well. Those things you wrote are such minute details of my self that it warmed my heart and reminded me of how much you liked me. By God, someone could like me THAT much to pay attention to who I am and what I do. You are not the standard, btw. I've set my standards way before you came into my life. I suppose your purpose in my life is to show me what commitment and honesty to my self can do. And standards are best left to text messaging fees and broadband subscriptions. Love is the only reason to be with a person. So here it goes again... Thank you.

To the next guy... I'm here. I'm yours. I'm ready. All you have to do is ask. It's never too soon. I'm back to reckless abandon. To our sweet sweet disposition. Meow.

In case you were wondering...

2010-07-18T04:08:00.000+08:00

I still have the same login information on everything.

iammyown@gmail.com, yah? Prophecy fulfilled, Mister.

Let's get lost

2010-07-08T10:35:00.002+08:00

You and I. In each other's eyes.

The pain is over. Thank you. ♥

You told me you'd hold me until you die

2010-06-27T16:00:00.003+08:00

I write today not because I am resentful still... because I am not. I write today because there are things I want to say and these are things you need to know yet do not deserve to hear because you don't deserve advice [not instructions] from me anymore on how to live your life.

I want you to know that I'm happy for you
I wish nothing but the best for you both

Whenever I tell people this exact message, nobody sees the truth in it because they readily conclude that I am saying it out of spite and consequence. Very few close friends believe and those are the people who have seen what we've been through and how we managed to be together all those years despite, well, everything and everyone else. Those few knows I truly want you to be happy and I am even praying that you two eventually end up together just so all the pain of our separation would be worth it. Everything I did - I did to make you happy... All because one random day you told me that your sole purpose in life is to love me and on another random day, you told me you are who you are because of me and you liked it. I have always had a soft spot for your mush because I knew and trusted you and it was never so easy for you to express your emotions. They knew you've always had sparks pala eh... then why did you have to deny her in front of your Momma. THAT has to be the saddest thing for someone you love to find out about. I just hope that if the day came for you to take her home to 48 Maywood Avenue, your mum would be gracious enough not to bring all that up and accept her with more courtesy than a hoe merely deserves. People are happy for you too, by the way José. We all just find it such an overkill (or too desperate?) for you to put it all over your online profile. And yes, we all know it's not your doing. If she has to do all those updates, then she must be feeling so insecure. Are you still in high school that she has to announce your relationship herself on YOUR profile? I had no idea she doubles as your secretary. Your life must be oh-so-easy breezy now that someone does everything for you, leaving you with no room to make up your own mind. But hey... If it makes you happy then it can't be that bad, yeah?

An older version of me
Is she perverted like me
Would she go down on you in a theatre
Does she speak eloquently
And would she have your baby
I'm sure she'd make a really excellent mother

Oh, these lines are just too spot on not to be elaborated on. I am thrilled that a 14-year-old song could capture her description all too accurately. Except, would you eventually have a baby? And IS she an excellent mother? Funny how when you talked about your wavemates, you've described the bunch as an all-boys group, and that the girls look manlier than the boys do. Funny how she acted awkwardly and with too much tension when you introduced me. Funny how you said she is just a single mother who's one-of-the-boys and she's just a dude with a vagina when I teased you that she obviously was attracted to you. Funny how I bet she'd think I'm making these up because it's offensive to be talked about with such indignity. Funny how I may seem utterly pathetic now in my pain but the fact remains that when the hurt subsides, I'd be back to my awesome self and she'd still be just THAT girl even though you are already together. Funny how you outright said that she's just a girl that keeps you busy on your extra free time now that I'm out of your life... that there is no *magic* and that sure sounds to me like the proverbial rebound relationship. Let me guess how the relationship took off. She sent you some sweet text messages, held your hand, kissed you in the lips and told you she'd love to be your girlfriend... Before you even asked. Haha. The funniest thing has to be that you replaced me with someone who tries hard to use the English language but failed with the most basic subject-verb agreement. Epic fail!

And every time I scratch my nails down someone else's back
I hope you feel it... Well, can you feel it?

I now have a very powerful secret that serves as my natural mood elevator at times when I miss you. You would never know of it... Perhaps nobody would. But just having this secret makes me be glad that I now have the liberty to do whatever makes me happy while you are stuck with this hoe that is slicing your balls off with her long fingernails, millimeter by millimeter. If you felt I stifled you, wait until the thrill of a new relationship subsides and you realize that choosing her made you rid yourself of the people that mattered. Wait until you realize that you've lost your self and you are simply living the role that the life with her entails. I have good people in my life, ones that lead me to the right path that leaves my conscience at peace. Just do me a favor and ask yourself this: If your conscience were at peace, why can't you talk about your newfound happiness with the people who would want to share that happiness with you?

You did tell me we would be together until death and I do not hold that against you because the day you told me you no longer loved me, you really died and that was when your promises expired. You may still be alive physically but the you that I knew no longer exists (and apparently the you that everyone else knew too). Your ghost haunts me when I'm awake and asleep but that's all there is to it. I just hope wherever you're going, you'd know and accept why you ended up there.

I miss you.

2010-06-20T08:32:00.000+08:00

I badly badly do. Just one look. Please.

I've been a bad bad girl and I'm paying for my sins

2010-06-20T08:25:00.002+08:00

Oh my rebellious heart! You have betrayed me far too many times. If the only way to keep you on my side is to stop you from beating then so be it. If only it did not mean my demise, it would already have been done. Pfffshshshttt.

Forgetting Boknat Mechado

2010-05-28T12:05:00.001+08:00

Koonu: There's only one cure for pain like that.
Peter: What?
Koonu: Weed. Ya got any?
Peter: No.
Koonu: Well then let's just go surfing!

The Womyn Who Can't Be Moved

2010-05-26T10:34:00.004+08:00

How can I move on when I'm still in love with you?

It was that time of the month when I have a reason to go north to Ortigas and be re-acquainted with the setting of my most funn past. I decided not to take a cab and to manipulate Mervin into dropping me off. Unfortunately for me, we compromised on me getting off at Silver City. It was in the middle of the mid-morning rush and all cabs were occupied so I took on the adventure of taking a passing van. Right after I handed my ten-peso fare, I had this brain storm of retracing the steps I took with you. So I got off at Meralco Ave., made my way to the Unionbank building, let the tears flow as flashes of you and me and how we used to be got the better of me - almost making me be hit by a speeding car by the post office - and walked all the way through Emerald and San Miguel to Medical Plaza. My feet even wanted to go forth to San Antonio and to break into unit H of the G&T building... but I did not want to end up in the same police station we had that gay dude from ICT blottered.

When I was done at the clinic, I walked back to Ortigas Park through ADB Ave., wept again when I passed by the parking lot which we always cut through to Megamall after work - way before you had a car and a bloated ego plus a you're-the-man attitude - and had a large serving of Ultimate Mocha at Coffee Bean.

It was an incredible feeling - being transported back in time like that. I was almost expecting you to walk up to me and have me at "Hi Ketch!" one more time. Every time a couple who held hands passed by, I thought of how Chrioni yelled "Hoy ano yan!?" when he and your classmates saw us holding hands for the first time. I looked at the bench we sat on when we had our first relationship talk and I could almost hear your voice as you said what happened did not matter and you understood that we both had to let go of our pasts in different ways - that was the last time I was ever with another guy, by the way. I recalled how you hate the heat of the sun and how you covered us both with your jacket as we walked through the scorching mid-day heat to go to the mall. I remembered how you would pretend to forget your break schedule just so you could take your lunch break with me... which, in time, our coaches learned to live with. God knows I would never forget those moments... I don't want to, anyway.

I want to keep remembering all our moments until remembering them no longer makes me ache. I want to keep remembering them until seeing happy couples no longer brings a lump to my throat. I want to keep remembering them because only I can keep those memories alive... Only I have the proof that we had a good run. Only I can tell of the stories of the love between a boy and a girl before Pandora's box broke open. And only I am all that's left of those memories.

So every time I am in Ortigas, I would be in the same seat at Coffee Bean until being there no longer reminds me of you. I would be there until writing about being there no longer makes me weep. I would be there until I no longer feel the need to be there. I would be there until I have happy thoughts to write about again.

'Cause if one day you wake up and find that you're missing me

And your heart starts to wonder where on this earth I could be
Thinking maybe you'll come back here to the place that we'd meet
And you'll see me waiting for you on our corner of the street

Post-script: I never did like the song because it seemed too story-ish and cannot be related to... Until Abby suggested this is so appropriate.

Memories in Full Color

2010-05-23T16:06:00.000+08:00

This was going to be a hate post but I truly am not capable of hating you. I am very angry, yes. Very upset, yes. Very hurt, yes. But still... you're you even if you're a complete stranger now. Either you're one person I could never hate or I am one person who could never hate.

You just followed your happiness. I get it. It was at the expense of my happiness but hey, that should be okay. I'm just too selfish to accept that I am not the girl who can make you happy anymore. Ego thingy. I've just always wanted to keep all my belongings for as long as I can and to see what I had taken by a hoebag... Well, you get the idea. Plus, you never used my name for anything - a password or username or whatever. And you've officially discarded 17 for 04. So yeah, I am in pain again but only because I want to be. Guess I'd rather hurt than feel nothing at all.

So I opened our album. Stared at each photo and let the memories crash through. Wept. I'm going to be weeping for what we had for a very long time. We were so good together. Yes, everyone knows the three years we shared was no bed of roses. Who gives a crap. Each one of our photos is a reminder of the happy days. You never see the hard days in a photo album... but those are the ones that get you from one happy snapshot to the next.

You've grown wings and flown up up high, away from me and everyone else... And I'm honestly happy for and proud of you. Yet, I can tell you're still struggling with those wings. We've always relied on each other for advice. I hope the advice I gave you is not thrown into the wind. Because although I'm not in those photos, I took them. They were taken to be a reminder of those moments. They were taken to remind us during hard days of why we fought to be together. So to still hang on to them... is just insult to her. Hoebag na nga sya eh, don't treat or make her feel any less pa. Haha.

Make new memories and take lotsa pictures with her so one day, you don't look back at our pictures and go "Damn that was funn!"

Director's Cut

2010-05-09T13:19:00.003+08:00

"I suddenly realized that the way to get over you isn't by hooking up with some random guy, or pretending like we didn't happen. You and I loved each other --- and then you broke my heart. I've been doing everything possible not to face that fact. But, I'm gonna kiss somebody someday, and when I do... it will be for me. Goodbye..."
--- Blair to Chuck on Gossip Girl, Season 3 Episode 19 "Dr. Estrangeloved"

I was about to switch channels because the drama in Gossip Girl was starting to bug when this scene came on. Last night, someone told me the best way to make a guy feel bad about your break-up is to show him that you've moved on to another guy's arms. I say no. This is the first time that I want to heal my heart by myself. No rebounds, no new man for show.

My phone not prompting a new SMS used to drive me crazy for the first few weeks, especially when I knew that the prepaid credits I've given you was already being used for a hoebag. So I filled my days with exchanging SMS with a new dude, just to keep me from the habit of updating you with random details of my day. He didn't want to be a mere rebound, though, and I concurred that he was too nice a guy to be reduced to that. I kept my heart at bay but ended up only getting myself in a bigger mess because I simply could not keep from liking the guy and it now appears that I have sabotaged all possibilities of starting anew with him.

Oh well. Life, ya?

I finally got around to clearing up my phone of our photos. It was painful - seeing all our memories in full color. I wept a bit. I couldn't help but smile afterwards, though. Little by little, I'm ridding myself of you. I'm moving on in a healthy constructive way and I can't help but be proud of myself. When that day comes that I shall have my first kiss with a new man, I know I'd be ready and it would be magical.

At kung hindi na babalik
Sana sa pag-gising ay wala na ang nadaramang sakit
At kung hindi na babalik
Pilit sasabihin na hindi ako nagkamali

He was heartbreak from the moment that you met him.

2010-05-04T11:12:00.002+08:00

Every story has an ending. Each day has to turn into night. A student has to graduate from school. A book has its last page. A song has its last note. The most faithful of lovers who grow old together are still separated by death. In the end, the choice is ours to make the ending a happy or a sad one.

How can I be sad at this point... When I am experiencing all that I willingly gave up for us. It's inappropriate to say but I am happier now than I was with you -- the latter part of the relationship, anyway. It was just terrible. The fighting, the struggle for time, the lies. Now I understand why you did what you did and I'm okay with that.

You're in love. You should be and I want you to be happy. Break-ups are never easy but if we didn't, I wouldn't have realized that there is someone I can have everything I want in life with. I can have both a realationship and all the other things that make me truly satisfied. I hope you find what you want in your life too as I have. Perhaps when the wounds heal and the scars fade, we can enjoy a fart-fest again and laugh at the mess that our relationship had become.

Samson, your hair was long when we first met

2010-04-27T11:07:00.008+08:00

I wonder where the salbahe in me has gone. I was tad more interesting then. I betcha all those hearts I've broken because I was an insensitive non-committal priss would never believe me when I say I WANT to be a girlfriend. No, I don't want a boyfriend... I want to BE a girlfriend. Confusing, eh? Well, I'm not looking for someone. I want to be someone to someone. And the confusion continues...

You're right. You are my proverbial one-that-got-away. Thank you for reminding me. I lived in a black hole for three effin' months thinking I've never felt that kind of pain before when I actually did. Because of you. And you saw it all. You were there for me. Nobody had to see it because YOU WERE THERE. I should always go back to the start of this blog to remember why I must forever be grateful to you. And that makes you an incredibly better man than he just ever could be. OO nga. You should have been him and I suppose that would be my ultimate regret ever. For that, I'm truly sorry.

Nobody honestly believes I'm this okay now. I suppose I wouldn't too if I didn't know how terribly I fell apart four years ago. He may be my biggest downfall but you are my biggest heatbreak. I had to try to fill the void that you left me with with everything and everyone within reach. Remember that first night when I told you I was absolutely certain I knew what I wanted? I've always known. It's still what I want now. And I've always known he and how we were aren't what I want, I just liked the idea of who I was with him. It turned out what you wanted was different from mine and I couldn't give it to you so I came to accept why we weren't. So this loss was even easier to accept for me.

The sleepless nights, the loss of appetite, the verbal diarrhea... Those were reminiscent of the days after we stopped seeing each other. I suppose this time around was worse because I let me lose myself and be swallowed by the cliche that follows break-ups. Unfortunately, he left me high and dry so I had to run around and scatter my pain to any and all random people that gave me the time of day. Olats. I'm just glad that was over with.

I can only now hope that the actions and inactions of those days of darkness did not make me miss my chance with what I know I want. Because while the good guys are taken, the best guys aren't. They're just waiting and waiting for the right one. And hopefully, one of them finds me. Just as I found you.

You Could Be Happy

2010-04-07T12:17:00.002+08:00

I won't know
But you weren't happy the day I watched you go

The strange paralyzing incomparable pain I'm suffering from comes from the thought that I've never truly been this lonely nor abandoned before. From Day 1, our worlds have always told us that we won't make it through and you've always held my hand and assured me that what we feel for each other is stronger that anyone else's opinion. I've come to realize that I am the only one in the world who still believes what you've always told me. You've proven everyone right (even me before you convinced me we'd be forever and ever and all that crap) and it causes my very gut to churn and scream in argument that you have done me wrong. You left me. That's the worst of the terrible things I've endured because of you.

You have turned out to be just another guy and you have turned us into just another couple whose relationship is not strong enough to survive the industry's culture. Eff you for that. Or never again, that is.

I've always had faith. I've always believed. I was wrong all along. So just let me weep, rant and whine. I sure have every right to.

More than anything I want to see you go
Take a glorious bite out of the whole world

My heart-sleeved Shirt

2009-10-04T17:38:00.003+08:00

[Originally posted Nov. 8, 2008 @ Multiply. Memories. Mem'ries.]

The return to wearing my heart on my sleeve...

Acknowledging the ghost

I miss you and I've been missing you for quite some time. I haven't spoken of you but you've been at the back of my head for the past couple of months. It was easy to pretend not to care because in all reality, I did not have intimate feelings for you. How could I, when I am madly in love with my B. I know you made your mark on me simply because at my lowest of low, you saw me. You saw past the weight gain and the self-esteem plunge and the drought in character. You showed me that even without all that I thought made me desirable, I can be and I am. You gave me something to look forward to during those 15-minute breaks and you kept me up during the most lackluster shifts, just by passing me by. Of course, the excitement of keeping under people's radar added to it all. The moment I decided I had to end what we had, I poured it all out and acted as if I had nothing more to say. But I do... and a lot at that.

Confronting the ghost

You said once I left APAC we could spend more time together. Lo and behold! When I left APAC, you seemed to have forgotten. You have a list, after all. One night... just one night. I suppose I would never forget that. I remember. There I was, all convinced it was a simple libido-fueled urge for a tryst and there you were, saying there was more to me that you wanted than just to feel my behind. There I was, slipping and there you were, pushing me to slip further. San Mig Strong Ice must have had quite an influence on you when you asked me to come far far away, just you and me. Haha. I thought I was over my silly vulnerable phase. Oh God, I pray I really am now. (Haven’t I countless times over?) Yet, at my quiet moments, I find myself wishing I could get over the fact that you planned on making a fool of me, with my friend no less. I just cannot see why. Your only explanation was that you were a jerk. I can live with jerks; I just cannot tolerate fucking liars. I meant something to you, huh? Then why was it that you thought I had no right to hold you accountable for anything. My friend was easy to forgive; she had what you didn't - the balls to talk to me. I honestly would've celebrated what the two of you did; we were all brought together in the spirit of fun, weren't we. At least, I would've appreciated the fact that you were able to do that thing, even if it wasn't with me. I never was the jealous type, anyhow. I just cannot shrug off the despise in feeling of being thought to be.

Releasing the ghost

Of all the aches I had to go through in my short existence, I emerged alive and stronger. There is only one way I know how to and it is to write. Write write write. Talking only makes me tenderer; it makes the throb more real. In writing, I exhale it out of my system to an anonymous audience... propelling me into freedom. I've wanted to talk to you but I can't see the necessity of it. You have yours and I have mine and that's the way our worlds should be. Some things are best left unsaid and forgotten. Maybe at some distant moment, in the spirit of fun once again, we may share a couple buckets of beer, a kiss or two and exchange anecdotes from our individual adventures. I do miss you and perhaps I will continue to. I can only hope the same goes for you, even if each of our lives goes on regardless of how the other is.

Takes my heart and puts back in purse…

TTYYYN

2009-08-07T17:37:00.001+08:00

In the words of Elbert Hubbard, this is what loyal people do – If you must growl, condemn, and eternally find fault, resign your position and when you are on the outside, complain to your hearts content...

I’ve resigned so now, I complain.

NEWSFLASH! You, You and You are not gods. You cannot simply wave your silly little hands and command a group of people to follow your whims. We do not worship you nor live at your mercy. This is not China and we did not apply to work at a sweat shop. We are people with brains, and that’s more than what I could say for You, You and You.

I can only hope that You, You and You do become power players of the millennium, enjoying your millions and millions, and gloating and gloating in your self-importance. But by the rate you’re going, we all know that’s not going to happen. The people you stand on to prove your grandeur will all walk away and You, You and You would fall flat on your faces with a silent thud because you’re all made of skin and air.

As for me, I’ll find new opportunities. I know what I can do and I don’t have to suffer to achieve greatness. I don’t have to compromise my values and principles, either.

Thank You, You and You. I learned a thing or two along the way. But I’d rather talk to You, You and You NEVER.

I'm sorry. Not really.

2008-09-16T15:49:00.000+08:00

Browsing through Friendster made me realize something, the boy I've always thought to be my Mr. Big lost the love of his life partly because of me.

I had no idea how happy the two of you were and how perfect you were together. Just because he always managed to make his way to me, even when the two of you had supposedly gotten serious. If you were The One, why did he keep me around, noh? What's funny is, your stories are similar to my stories and to others' too. I just dont see what's so special about that. Is it because you tolerated him far longer?

Wala lang. Nabasa ko lang yung testi mo sa kanya, parang napakabitter mo that I was (and still am, by the way) in his life. I'm sorry if you were hurt because of me. I guess you hate me as much as I hate this other girl. Haha. Bilog nga ang mundo.

As I've said, my soul will burn in hell. Yun lang.

If that didn't give me the answer, nothing would.

2008-09-16T15:48:00.000+08:00

Tomorrow marks our 22nd month together.

I forgot and made plans with another boy.

O di bah. San ka pa.

I had to cancel with the other boy, only to find out he made the effort to escape from work and his girlfriend for our plans. So I tried to reinstate our plans and decided to wiggle my way out of the monthsary crap instead, but the other boy already shut off our communication. Hay.

My soul will burn in hell. I just know it.

Hallelujah

2008-06-10T09:12:00.002+08:00

This time we're not giving up. Let's make this last forever.

It has been exactly a year since all that we knew fell. And the better part of that year was spent waiting for everything to fall back into place. When 2008 came around, I told myself this is my year... for happiness, success, uninhibited love, contentment. The undocumented times in the chronicles of us (in my blogs, in photos) are those when I had yet resolved my dilemma of staying or going. At last, on my 23rd, I knew that if I really wanted to leave, I'd already have. So staying became the only option. Bliss bliss bliss from that point on. But then, April came along, then May, then last Saturday.

It's always ever easier to forgive than to forget. I never made you believe all is done and shall be left in the past. The moment I took you back, the first thing I made clear was, "I'll never forget this and I'll go back to that-thing-you-did everytime you frustrate me." I did eventually forgive you, anyway. Not that I had to forgive her, she never showed any remorse over it. And up until recently, she was non-existent in my world. Eventually, the time I had prayed I would be spared from came and I had to meet her face-to-face, so she became more than a name on your phone.

Then, as if to test how long I can keep a straight face while being tormented, she kept popping in on the rare times I plan to spend relaxing. The mere mention of her name stresses me!!! The most stressful part being nobody must know why. Of course. That would be chaos; angry fists flying everywhere at the very least. You yourself have experienced what happens when this kind of shit hits the fan. So for as long as I can remember, I tried to heal my heart out of everyone's sight, with the exemption of you, a dear girlfriend and her man.

After all my efforts, this I'd like to tell her: YOU WIN. No, we've never been in a battle. In my head, though, I tried my best to be indifferent to you because I simply know I could never inflict torture in you as you have effortlessly done to me. I know with complete certainty that you never think of me as often as I let thoughts of you do laps in my over-blended mind. It's pathetic, at times, but hey, you win. I officially hate another living organism in this planet. I could never possibly despise anyone more than I do you. I curse the day you were born. Skanks have tried to ruin me, but they were mere donkeys in my little game of pin-the-L-on-their-foreheads. But you... You exceed all the evil in anyone I know. What kind of human, if you had the teeniest bit of goodness in you, would say, "Good for you. You deserved it", to people your boyfriend considers his friends after a near-death accident. Anyone I know would primarily make sure all is well and ALIVE and won't even consider wishing ill of people your boyfriend cares about. WIth that last reason alone, I won't quit finding pleasure in saying, "I HATE YOU". I do. I fucking hate you with my whole being. You - the girl my boyfriend wanted to screw, encouraged him to do so and in the end, screwed me over. I hate you.

With that out of my chest, I know I can sleep better. And B, please understand, I'm not mad at you. This is all about her and her ill morality, her imaginary conscience, her insensitivity to an almost fatal situation, her strong stomach that can tolerate being in the same room as you, me and her boyfriend. This isn't about us. We're good now. I don't blame you. There are times I do get upset when I consider it is your fault I am put in this compromising position. But that is quickly overshadowed with the consideration that the fault is no one else's but my own, for simply being unavailable THAT night. Oh well.

When I say forever, I know I'm right. If this whole roller coaster did not break us, nothing would. Let's just say that in the short time that the year and a half of our relationship is, we've both done everything possible to break us. She may eff my mood up with her mere existence, but she could never possibly eff what we have up.

Just me and you.

happyness

2008-02-23T12:31:00.002+08:00

There's something about being 23 that acts better than Prozac or Vicodin in my system. I think this is the longest I've ever been this serene or, for lack of a better term, sane. Fascinating.

Bliss is like coffee. No one will serve it to you for free... But you can always make it yourself, at the cheapest cost. ^_^

I still miss a lot of people, though. I miss my life up north every other time and I do long to come visit. Haaay...

Simple but not easy

2007-12-03T04:05:00.000+08:00

Relationship success isn't magical nor mysterious. It's a simple process -- not easy but simple. If something made sense to you, try it. If it didn't, discard it.

If there was no sense in the whole relationship anymore, then you know what to do. Did I say it won't be easy? Let me emphasize that it's gonna be very difficult and it will hurt a lot. But it's the only solution.

I've become so embarrassed of my thoughts and emotions that I can't even blog it out anymore. Wawa naman me.

Attack of the Smokers

2007-12-01T00:14:00.000+08:00

There was this woman the other morning that was so annoyed with cigarette smoke. We were in a jeep stuck in traffic when the driver lit a cig. On an ordinary day, I'd be annoyed myself and tell the driver off but that day, I decided to shut my piehole and be in on the whole annoy-the-old-lady scheme.

The rain had just stopped and the lady struggled to open the plastic drapes of the window. The driver stopped her, telling her it'd get ripped but the woman continued to struggle saying the smoke would trigger her asthma.

Then when the driver was done, the passenger beside him in the front lit one too. The annoyed lady transferred seats. A few yards later, a guy got on and sat beside her. Tadah! He had a lit cig too. I bit my tongue to keep me from giggling from the rather funny situation. I had the urge to light one myself but I couldn't compromise my own principles on smoking in public. I just sat there and enjoyed how the world decided to annoy an already at-her-wits-end whiner. Haha.

Oh shit.

2007-11-27T11:29:00.000+08:00

It still hurts. pala.

I'm one messed-up little loveaholic.

Light up the sky

2007-07-16T05:31:00.000+08:00

You're making choice to live like this,
And all of the noise,
I am Silence.

I said I will keep forgiving you every time and the only time WE would ever come to an end is when YOU give up. BIG MISTAKE. I always did manage to get myself in trouble with my big mouth and impulsive honesty. I've told you time and again... Complacency is the enemy of progress. We haven't moved on from this rut we got ourselves in because the moment things look up for us... the moment I don't complain... you shy back away to your old ways that always always make me feel like crap. Please please. If you can't love me the way you tell me you will, just let me go. You wouldn't do it, would you? I know I couldn't so what the hell... I truly do deserve this crappy crappy feeling of apathy.

We already know how it ends tonight,
You run in the dark through a firefight.
And I would explode just to save your life,
Yeah I would explode.

I'd do anything for you. I'd do anything for love. I already did and still will. No wonder friends think my celebrated intellect is of no use with my love life. You may have an IQ of 200 but Tanga ka, girl. Tanga ka. I always end up with the wrong guys. Or they always end up with the wrong me. What the world should do is gather all fucked up little girls like me and make us all live in a bubble. We shouldn't be allowed to roam freely and prey on nice young men. Heck, who am I kidding. You're no nice young man. If you were, I tell you... we both wouldn't have to grope in the dark for what to do next. I never was the first in a relationship to give up. Except for that one time but that was a different me. Ginagago na ko, I still hold on. So the mere fact that I'm exhausted beyond exhaustion because of you shows you are more fucking fucked up than I can ever be.

I can’t find a wall to pin this to,
They're all coming down since I've found you.
I just wanna be where you are tonight.

I longed to be beside you in everything you and I do. I was clingy, I knooowww. Those skanks had to pry you free from my cold dead fingers if they wanted to have you for themselves. Then one day, I woke up and realized that if you wanted to be with anyone else, I'm setting you free. Just don't come running back to me and claim yourself to be mine just because you have syphillis. Why did you have to throw everything we've shared and been through? C'mon mann... I can keep blaming you over and over and over and all you have to do is stay away from me and I'd stop bugging you. I can move on, you know. I really can. You just have to push me. Our memories are vanishing one by one in my head now... Just a little help from you and I'd be fine.

I run in the dark looking for some light,
And how will we know if we just don't try,
We won't ever know.

Well. We won't, I suppose. Tssch. I don't think you realized you were appointed to save my life, not totally push it off course. Congrats.

Soon

2007-07-06T07:43:00.001+08:00

One of these days... I will write as if my entire existence depended on it again.

One of these days.

Make me wonder

2007-07-01T23:20:00.000+08:00

I still don't have the reason
And you don't have the time
And it really makes me wonder
If I ever gave a fuck about you and I

Give me something to believe in
Cause I don't believe in you anymore. ANYMORE.
I wonder if it even makes a difference to try
So this is goodbye [???]

I bruise easily.

2007-06-04T21:09:00.000+08:00

Physically and emotionally, I do.

I am in another one of those moments in my life when I can only pray to God to put my pieces back together because I simply don't have enough strength to do so myself. You have shattered me so terribly like your promises that I just know if I snapped out of this daze, I am bound to self-destruct once more. Hold on to the denial, dear self, hold on. I will be okay. Although... I have this evil feeling that the dark act of escape would be salvation for me. It is in that exact moment when I am a slash on the wrist away from my demise... when flashes of my life catapults down on me... that exact moment that I realize I have been through worse and nothing can bring me down if I don't allow it. You were my life. Screw you.

For the first time in six months, I am cried out dry and I can only shake my head at the sudden turn of events for us. My hope of ever ever making us work has flickered its last spark and in all its finality, I shall be putting us to rest. Shame on you for fooling me once and now, all the shame's on me. My anger made me break a couple of my fingers and with the persistent physical pain, I just know that this is just about the breaking point that I so avoided. I fight with myself whether I might have reacted in all exaggeration and superficiality. I still want to save us. But every reason I have leads me back to the fact that... you did what you did and perhaps I love you, hence, I shall forgive you. But we could never be happy as we were because I couldn't forget even if I tried. I will live in paranoia and unease and the mere idea of it excruciates me. This is it.

I spent the whole day cooking up what to tell you in reply to all the fucking lies that you seem to simply exhale. But all I can come up with is... Was it worth it???

--------------------------

I finally figured out the song you mentioned that Keisha Cole made famous... It's I should have cheated. I can't help not wishing I did.

Because I'd still say yes

2007-05-17T13:04:00.000+08:00

I wish I could've have had you before all those girls screwed you up so badly. Just my luck. For the first time in my life, I'm fighting urges to give up and run away and... well, actually commit to a commitment. But you're done immersing yourself into relationships 'cause you always did choose skanks for girlfriends in your past. Or maybe not. I really wouldn't know coz your past is a dark untouchable place you have locked up in a chest under your bed. And you wonder about the monster who haunts your sunshiny moments with me. The chest and the monster is one and the same... just so you know. I've been screwed over myself. A gazinfjhrjbfllion times. Your past doesn't justify how you are in your present relationship. And sometimes, I'm sorry just doesn't cut it.

Namaaan. Will my life ever begin to rhyme? I don't even want to start questioning God for eternally proving to me that my choices are jack shit and that they would only take me exactly the other side of where I want to be. I just want to be happy. I just want to be contented. I took the chance with you and for a moment, I was under the impression that there is nothing more I would need and want. That moment faded too soon. And all I'm left with is this heartache and words.

This has got to be the most difficult fight I ever had to put up with. I want you. You are mine for the simple reason that I am yours. And if I had to give you up to the ghosts of your past, my sanity wouldn't be able to forgive me. That's just wrong. and braindead stupid. If I had to be a fucking shrink just to figure out what's wrong with you and to help you fix yourself, then so be I. I'm not giving up till you mend. But you will only mend if you allow yourself. And there won't be me in we until you do because we will only be fixed when none of us is broken. Which should have been the case when we started being we precisely six months ago.

If we're gonna make this count, we gotta stop counting backwards. You gotta be fair. Coz you know as well as I do, that I choose to be yours. Yours to appreciate, not to take for granted. And... well, you will always have me at hello.

Saying Sorry

2007-04-24T15:34:00.000+08:00

Saying goodbye, this time, the same old story...

Some expressions, contrary to what you may think, will never be threadbare. It has been told than anything overused or said too often loses meaning. I beg to disagree. Nothing ever loses weight when said with absolute sincerity. On the other hand, don't say it because it's what I wanna hear. But if you really mean it, I wanna hear it. Say what you mean and mean what you say, mister.

If you love me, say it. When I love, my lips will never get weary of those three small lovely words. I've learned my lesson, it's never too late to tell someone I love him unless... he doesn't want to hear it anymore. Likewise, being told I am loved feels like the first time every cotton-pickin' time. You send shivers down my spine and the corners of my mouth to curl up beyond control. How sweet it is to be loved by you. Yeah yeah, actions may speak louder than words... But actions are empty without verbal affirmation. Could it be love? Maybe... I reeeally am not the assuming type, though.

If you're grateful, say it. All I need to know I did learn in Kindergarten. Saying thank you should have been included in that list. An effort well acknowledged is bound to be repeated or succeeded. Girlfriends who get tired of their boyfriends are usually those who are left unappreciated. Gadamet. A simple thanks would have kept me at your side. Thank you for being in my life. I'm over the moon just hearing that.

If you're sorry, say it... Especially if you really do did not mean to. Don't ever get tired of apologizing. Yes, sometimes my ears seem to wanna bleed from hearing your sorry shit but not as bloody annoying as not hearing anything from you at all. I know you're gonna do it again whatever it is, we're human that way. But I'd still wanna know your remorse.

Say what's in your head. Coz really, when it all boils down to it, you don't wanna be on the receiving end when one of us says goodbye.

Baby, we gotta make this count.

The pieces don't fit anymore

2007-04-16T11:48:00.000+08:00

What hurts more than losing you is knowing you're not fighting to keep me.

Watch it burn. Let it die.

Forget me not

2007-04-02T09:39:00.000+08:00

We are all frightened by the thought of being forgotten and when we realize we are, we are saddened. We think that we are not at all remembered when people begin to ignore us or seem to move on well with their lives without us in it. What we don't know is that no matter how brief nor seldom the moments we spent with a person are, we leave a little mark on him/her everytime and it'll forever remain no matter what. The assurance that we are sometimes missed comforts us with the thought that we have loved/cared for that person not in vain... and it makes carrying on easier and less painful.

Just around the corner

2007-03-24T15:50:00.000+08:00

I got asked for directions four times during my walks the past week. That's odd. So, I do look the part of an Ortigas girl, don't I? Either that... Or I look like a barangay tanod, or worse, a pick-up girl. Pffft.

I'm not good with words

2007-03-17T14:00:00.000+08:00

I sit here, staring at my monitor and I realize I simply cannot put into a post all these emotions that my mind and heart have been immersed in ever since your name shed light to my world. I type and backspace the perfect rhyme to describe and capture how I feel when I think of having you in my life. All efforts are in vain and yet I feel not a hint of frustration. I am never so lost for words and I admit that I cannot truly express the abstract that is us. No adjective can precisely define the beauty and depth of these overwhelming feelings that it is absurd to even try. I now understand how you mean when you fall silent everytime I demand you to explain yourself. Feeling these is fulfilling enough and speaking of it would just spoil everything. I can only hope that by some cosmic force, how I feel flows through to you with our every gaze and touch. I feel your eyes on me whenever I'm not looking and I can't imagine anything that would make me feel more beautiful and adored. I feel your hand in mine and I can't imagine anything that would make me feel more secure and comforted. You're the only other person that makes me feel glad I am me.

I guess all I'm trying to say is contained in the three words we so often say. I know you already know. ♥

Boyfriend's Manual to Me

2007-03-12T15:04:00.000+08:00

1. Don't lie. ever. Make that ever ever ever. I don't give a crap about what you do to, for or with him or her. All that matters is that you don't make a fool out of me. Truth and honesty weighs tons for me. And I can get very stubborn in regaining trust. Paranoia is a huge chunk of my negativity. And the worst thing about being lied to is knowing I wasn't worth the truth. Hell, I know my worth.

2. Constantly report your whereabouts. Not telling is as bad as lying. I'm a veeery lenient girlfriend. I don't nag... I don't keep you from doing or going whatever. All I ask for is that I'm not in the dark about what's been happening to you. Let's share our lives. Omission is betrayal. How do you think would it make me feel if I were the last person to know when you're found dead in a ditch somewhere. And I hate missing you. It scares me that someday, I won't miss you anymore and that'd be the end of us.

2. Surprise me. It doesn't matter if it's something grand like a hotel room filled with rose petals or something simple like a kiss on my hair. I'm not materialistic when it comes to gifts. Yes, I love gifts, who doesn't... but it's the thought that truly counts. I'm a very sentimental person and kudos if you constantly tickle my sentimentality.

3. Make me laugh. I've been in love with Vic Sotto ever since I knew how being in love feels like for the simple reason that he's the most genuinely effortlessly funny guy I've ever known. I'd marry him in a heartbeat. Haha.

4. Laugh with me. I do have a sick sarcastic sense of humor when I'm not being corny. But it makes me feel special when my wit is appreciated. Laugh with me and I'm yours forever.

5. Don't always let me win. If you're always gonna let me win just to avoid an argument or simply because you don't wanna take the effort to show me I'm wrong, you're practically letting me go. I've an annoyingly strong personality and if you can't deal with that, you're not gonna survive at my side for the rest of our lives. Believe me... I've seen it happen with my parents. I do always want to win but only after some challenge. There's no satisfaction in a victory by default.

6. Remember the details. Mostly dates, places and names. These are the building blocks of our commitment. These are what strings us together. Forgetting these shows you're not paying attention and you're not giving value to what we are and what have. That would hurt. Again, I'm a sentimental person. eh.

7. Appreciate me. That means tell me I look nice after I've showered, set my hair & painted my face for two hours for our date and say what I cooked is yummy although it's just sauteed corned beef. I do special extraordinary things only for someone I love and it's up to you to recognize my initiative. It's not that I have to do it... I do want to and it'd be nice for you to encourage me to do the next special extraordinary thing.

8. Listen and talk. Talk and talk is not just talk... Being there is half the walk... If you wanna stay with me, you gotta do the talk and talk. Period.

Hear this, I'm yours. I'm at your feet.

2007-02-12T13:33:00.000+08:00

I've become embarrassed at how many times I've fallen in love. I hope with my life that this is the last... We're just getting started and we're only 22 but I already know I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Sweet, it even rhymes.

It feels like summer everyday when I'm with you. Stay with me so it can stay that way.

Thank you for loving me as I deserve to be. Happy Valentine's Day.

This is our last goodbye

2007-02-04T12:49:00.000+08:00

Must I dream and always see your face?

I knew you'd be there. Every cell in my brain was screaming "Don't go! Don't go!" yet I did and tortured myself with atrial fibrillation once again. You didn't change one bit. You were the same puny boy who swallowed me whole over two years ago. Gah. The moment I laid my eyes on you, I wanted to come crashing through the glass windows and plunge through the darkness of the night and be forgotten altogether. It pained me knowing I was standing there right in front of you and I wasn't worth at least a hi from you.

I had a million questions to ask... answers to which I know I'd never have. That will forever tag you as my proverbial one that got away. And much as I deny it, I know I could never be as in love as I was with you (or the person you were with me). For that reason alone, I could hate you and I do and I wish I could erase you forever from my past because you screwed me up so bad, I couldn't force myself to trust my heart anymore.

Two years... no formal goodbyes, no explanations, no closure, no bandages for the wounds. It's easier to say I didn't know you at all and what we had was faker than plastic trees. I didn't know you at all and you know why. There's never gonna be a moment of truth for you. Go on living in your lies.

I'll go on searching for my truths.

The Francis Aquino Concert

2007-01-22T17:17:00.000+08:00

Yes, I'm talking about Alive 2007: Wolfgang-Razorback Concert held last January 6 at Music Museum. Everywhere I go on cyberspace, someone is talking about how he kicked ass that night. I think everyone is making too much fuss over it. Not that there's anything wrong with that... Francis did do some serious ass-kicking and he was all hotness with his jiggly-wiggly manboobs and all. I enjoyed the whole repertoire, actually. Adrenaline was pumping through every inch of me the whole three hours of it. But the thing is, I think the whole point of the concert was overshadowed by... the whole Francis-ness of it all. I realize that while everyone went there to watch his/her favorite band play live again after all those years, everyone went home with Francis' drum beating in his/her head. The satisfaction of seeing the two great bands together was somehow pushed from the limelight, when that is, in fact, what people shoulda left the concert with. Basti's voice and Manuel's strums were muted compared to Francis' beating. I dunno if it's the loudness of it or the comical way he played or what, it just overshadowed everything. I don't think people woulda noticed if Basti, Manuel and Mon walked off the stage one by one. Case in point: he totally stole the show!

Here's another thingamajiggy to prove he did: he's all that's mentioned about the concert in this post. Haha. My brother, who has adored Wolfgang longest than anyone I know, does have a point. If he were THAT good, he would've gotten everyone's attention by blending in with the rest of the band and not showcasing his flabs nor breaking anything in the process of. Well, whatevs. Francis deserves his fifteen-minute of fame, anyway. He's still the best drummer I personally know. And I'm just glad I went that night.

Rock on!

Do you have to let it linger?

2007-01-13T18:31:00.000+08:00

What the hell. Whatever gave you the idea that he's my pinakamamahal. Tangina. That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard from you since you started saying hi to me. I really can't do anything about your insecurities anymore, really. Coz honestly, I've said and done everything in the book to try to convince you that you're beside me, in my arms... while he's up there on a pedestal, merely an admired icon.

Guys and their egos are tough rocks to break. Everyday I tell you I love you and everyday I try to be a better woman only for you and it seems the story of Cain and Abel again. I run a mile and you crawl an inch and, oh wth, all is lost. Futile efforts better thrown into the wind. When will this vicious cycle of love and loss end?!

I am just sooo tired. Most days I just want to climb up the roofdeck and give in to vertigo. But I don't wanna give up on you, on us, because I want to be different. I don't want to be like the other girls who left you faster than you can say "Don't leave me" when they met someone better. Only now do I realize that it's just me being selfish and not wanting to be just another girl in your past. And perhaps it's because I can see you do have potential to be who I want and need for the rest of my life.

You bore me. Your personality is bland as unripe tomatoes. Do we even have anything in common? Is there anything that you can offer for us to do that is new to me? We can't simply spend the rest of our lives making out, farting and listening to mainstream radio. Not me. I'm a boho at heart. I need to try something new once every while.

Some girls are just not meant to be tamed. Some are just meant to run free... until they find someone to run with. I'll forever hold your hand if you'll run with me. IF.

Someday...

2007-01-12T14:53:00.000+08:00

Someone's gonna love me the way I wanted you to need me...
Someone's gonna take your place...
I'll forget about you...
You'll see, I won't even miss you...
Even if I cared.

That day has come. Everything is unacceptably fucking perfect. Unfortunately, I still DO care.

I hate myself these past days. I love him. I do. But I'm not quite sure if I'm IN love with him. I hate me for having this whirlwind in my head. It's either I do or I don't, right? It always has. THAT is who I am. was. Well, this time, I absolutely have no idea. I was described to be binary by a mirror friend... I'm either 1 or 0. Well. I'm 1 and a half now... If that even makes sense.

Can I not truly break it off because I can't live without him? Or is it because life is simply more tolerable with him? Or is it because I don't want to go on with my life thinking I threw my chance at true fucking love at the nearest trash bin.

Ah. The answers. Only I hold them. Still.

There's something about honesty and emotional intimacy that is overrated and whatever it is, I've known that all along. That's why I've run from both for the longest time. Why the sudden sweet surrender? I think I started hating myself when I did. Because deep inside, I knew it was one way. I was in way over my head ONCE AGAIN.

I don't want to be miserable anymore. And I'm everything but when I'm with him, with my hand in his. But I find myself weeping whenever he's not around. What's wrong? What's missing? If I knew, I wouldn't be feeling this crap now, would I?

If only this whole woeful predicament comes with terms and conditions, any form of security or protection for my fragile scarred gula-gulanit heart... But credit cards are easier to sell.

You got me over him

2006-12-25T09:46:00.000+08:00

The greatest enemy of present happiness is past happiness too well remembered.

My world does not revolve around him. What I didn't realize was that he was the standing criteria to which I measure a perfect match with. I went on and on and on with my short cup of latte about being a brat and shallow and immature for denying the growing chip on my shoulder for too long. But as we laid there, basking in the ambience of farts and laughter... there, his tears fell... and he gave me his confession.

I thought I hold the throne for ruining perfect moments but he took home the bacon with this one. I was upset but my tears are shy so I did what I do best... I retreated back under my little rock of safety and depression.

I should be happy. I deserve to be happy. Karma is forcing me to be happy. I absolutely have no idea why I refuse to be. Happiness is just... boring and consuming. Emo moments are more exciting and annoying. Well.

It's Christmas and for once, the least expected aspect of this little play I star in called my life is the one thing that kept my sanity intact. My family is actually... normal. So Christmas IS the season for forgiveness and all that shit. Lucky lucky little boyfie.

But please do humor me, did I get YOU over HER?

Lost and Found

2006-11-20T14:34:00.000+08:00

No more loneliness
No more emptiness
No more melancholy
Have a peyote

Now, I see the sunlight shining through
There's no reason to be blue
When I know I'm going down
I look all around me and laugh like a clown

♥♥♥

Come as you are

2006-10-30T14:12:00.000+08:00

Everybody lies. The bad guys lie to get into your bed and the good guys lie to get into your heart. Why not. It works, doesn't it?

It's easy to manipulate guys when you prey on their libido while it's easier to manipulate girls when you prey on their hearts. So fucking unfair... though it's a game I don't mind playing anymore since I learned the rules the hard way.

Pop thinks I have superiority complex... That I think I'm better than most, if not all. Which is very unlikely since I was a middle child for eleven years till my baby sister popped out of nowhere. Anyway, maybe in a way, I do tend to think that I'm cool, always right or almost perfect. And I do tend to be so annoying at times that I would've annoyed myself if I weren't me.

But I never judge people for how I conceive them to be. To each his own.

Yes, first impressions stick. On the other hand, I have devised a way of judging books by their actions and speech on the first acquaintance and not be wrong as the pages are turned. Common sense and intellect push people to put their best foot forward at those times. I act snotty and stuck up and silently uncool and simply observe. Whoever isn't intimidated nor shoo-ed by my facade has a good heart and will be a good buddy. Not a bad strategy in screening people.

I guess I've gotten over my naivete... And I know better now than end up being someone's pushover sidekick. Oh, and I am not there to make friends nor lovers, at all. Being unreal and being professional are two distinct terms... Though a thin line separates them. Friends are a bonus; Admirers mere nuisance. I'm selling out for the money.

About me. Yes, it always is.

2006-10-19T11:16:00.000+08:00

Thought you had all the answers
to rest your heart upon
but something happens
don't see it coming, now
you can't stop yourself
now you're out there swimming
in the deep

Life keeps tumbling your heart in circles
till you let go
till you shed your pride and you climb to heaven
and you throw yourself off
now you're out there spinning in the deep

--- In the Deep, Bird York

Cool. I haven't slept in 24 hours and my eyes are starting to burn and get all grainy and I'm in the mood to write a coherent description of myself. So... A very good friend tried to boost my self-esteem a bit by saying he looks up to me for my independence and self-reliance and that I'm better than what/who I'm planning on dooming myself to be. It made me realize two things: first, I'm not as confident as I've always tried to convince myself to be and, second, he sure is one hekka ass-kisser. So now, I'm ready to take on anything once again. Maybe sometimes, you really do just need someone to have faith in you when all your faith has been blown away by the gusts of reality. I'm stepping out into the real world. Bye idealistic pseudo-philosophies. Byebye.

I need to feel good about myself so I can start feeling good about my realationships. That just proves I'm sloppy and clumsy beyond compare.

Heck, I know damn well nobody even really bothers to read this crap. Skim skim skim, people. And steal what you can. I don't care about intellectual property anymore `cause I don't think anyone would even attest to my alleged intellect. Ugh. Too much House!!!

Oh. Happy Burpday Bossing Gwaping Miguelito. Hurrah. Maybe today would be your turn to treat me to a Hotshots Ultimate Cheeseburger. And throw in some wedge fries, too.

Everybody is Somebody's Fool

2006-10-18T17:36:00.000+08:00

I used to believe in love. I still think I do now but I'm not so sure anymore. I just realized that love is merely an abstract excuse people use to justify their irrational moments of weakness and lack of logic. I will, time and again, fall in love with him who would be in love with her who could be in love with him who just might be in love with another him. Well... there lies the funn of it all. I noticed that there's always a particular factor for fascination that makes someone be attached to another. Be it an exceptional talent/passion, fame by reputation, notable kakulitan, profound intelligence, or even the reluctance to commit. It's that fascination that makes people act so foolish. We're all ditzy fangirls whether we admit it or not.

It fascinates me to witness love being expressed and repressed. Ah. How does one know love from lust or fascination or admiration or obssession? It takes real faith not to ask this question and just to believe.

Oh dear God, lead me back to that faith.

It's the winter of my heart again. Boys, like seasons, have come and gone again and again. Yet, I still haven't found what I've been looking for. Or rather, it (HE) has not yet found me. Why I'm all cried out for what couldn't wouldn't shouldn't be is just pathetic. Simply me.

A sorta fairytale with you

2006-10-09T12:23:00.000+08:00

If there was something I'd give anything to do these days, it'd be to slowdance with someone who sees me in a special light to the tunes of Walking After You and A Sorta Fairytale under a full moon in a star-speckled sky.

We would do it all night till daybreak. Throw in all those Prom soundtracks that make Catholic high school girls wet their hankies... Last Dance, All of my Life, Without You... yey. Glory of Love, even.

All night long. It's BTS. Better than multiple orgasms, actually. So so gay. Happy happy joy joy.

You can leave the memories open... It's not dying anyway.

2006-10-07T17:08:00.000+08:00

Hm. I'm turning my safety off. Ready to fall in love with you. Again. Over and over and over.

Why am I mourning for your imminent departure when you barely showed you cared when I was the one who was leaving? Perhaps because although you discreetly went out of your fucking way from time-to-time to ignore me and to convince yourself we never were, you have always been just there... an SMS, a call, an affair away for me to get an empty hug from whenever I needed one.

I didn't realize that just there is actually just here compared to there there. Amazing how I managed to give me a fucking migraine with that one sentence. But it does make sense.

It may no longer mean anything to you, and you would probably hate me for the rest of your depressed existence... But I will miss you everyday for the rest of mine. We shared seconds but those seconds were eons compared to the hours with others who tried and failed to do what you did. You reminded me how to feel and care... and be hurt.

I would thank you but you don't give a crap anyway so I'd just hope you find that one girl you would want to wake up to for the rest of your life who would feel the same for you. As for me, I wish that I'd be anywhere with anyone... making out. Just not alone.

Lucky me if it'd be with Wentworth Miller. Current coital fantasy. I'd break out of any prison with him. Haha.

Miss, are you wearing a bra?

2006-09-30T17:08:00.000+08:00

That's one helluva pick up line. Yeah, as in walking-on-the-sidewalk-and-a-Ford-Lynx-pulled-over pick up. The funniest things always seem to happen to me. Maybe I really am the punchline of an incessant joke.

My whole purpose in life is just to kiss your ass

2006-09-18T00:11:00.000+08:00

Life is one grand popularity show. Whoever strives hardest to please others wins.

If only I let it matter to me, I would be half the corporate tiger those ass-kissing smart asses are. I would be driving home in my shiny white company BMW to my fully-furnished penthouse suite in Astoria. Instead, I walk home under the heat of the sun to my Astoria-gilid apartment. It isn't all that bad once I justify my choices and actions with standing up for my principles and preserving my integrity. Haha. How noble. And depressingly pathetic. Maybe I should start acting more human... More dependent and materialistic and submissive and surreal. Less... rhetorical.

But really. I don't kick the ball towards how I think would elicit a loud applause anymore. I've learned to aim at how I'm certain the ball would hit the goal. Or maybe not subconsciously. But I wouldn't want to take away the fun in the rest of what I have to say by contradicting myself now, would I?

If you asked me, I'd say every man is better off as an island. We've been overlapping and intertwined and scrambled too much that we cannot tell anymore where one ends and the other begins. Our thoughts and emotions have been deeply influenced and saturated with too many external factors that we are already experiencing identity crises without realizing it. All men would be doing human race a favor by building bridges instead of crashing into each other... drowning whoever's weaker.

You believe this and that but do you really or do they? Where's the sense in that? You really should stop living your life by how they react to your every action. Wouldn't it be so interesting to discover a world where people actually have their own opinions and the guts to voice it out regardless if it would give them snotty remarks and raised eyebrows?

Pleasing people can be very exhausting. No wonder you always look so tired. Congratulations, though. You're Little Miss Everybody-Loves-You Barbie.

Dr. House is a hero. He is a manipulative bastard. He got shot because of his compassion (lack of)... But it is in his misery and solitude that he finds contentment and solace. Of course, that's partly because he's fictional and incredibly smart. But... whatever.

La Vie Boheme

2006-09-14T11:34:00.000+08:00

Emotion, devotion to causing a commotion. Creation, vacation...

[Mucho masturbation]

Bohemia is not dead, love.

So this is LIFE

2006-09-13T16:33:00.000+08:00

I am living in the city six years through a new millenium. It has been three months since I was sacked and I find it utterly difficult to recover from the fuck up that got me where I am now. Mistakes that are years old still manage to crawl down my back and bite my luscious ass. I realize that the little fairy tale I've written myself in has turned into a very terrible version of my cheesiest telenovela where all the other characters were against me and I couldn't even tell whether I'm the pitiful protagonist or the ever-taray powerful antagonist... Or perhaps I am both to myself. I am my own best friend and worst enemy which works for me well since I simply could not survive through my days without drama. Drama. Drama. Drama. Isn't that just my daily load of sustenance?

I confirmed I am indeed no longer the anywhere-with-booze party girl because I could not afford a single glass of my favorite WengWeng anymore. Heck, I couldn't even afford a pack of my fucking respiratory poison. One night, I walked in the rain because I couldn't afford the luxury of a cab ride. I could have run... at least I wouldn't have been soaked silly to the last thread of my lingerie. But, looking at the people scrambling past me to get to shelter, I knew running was futile. Wet is wet so why sweat myself in avoiding it.

I stood still and relished the raindrops on my face. My face must've been a disaster with my mascara webbing out. When was the last time you stood still in the rain? People are always running and taking cover in fear of being down with colds and the flu after, without giving consideration to the relief and freedom of being washed clean by the rain. Not all people can be metaphoric.

Reality snaps its fingers and I am back to my existing struggle. My wallet is thinner and emptier than Nicole Richie. Oh yeah, it's the worst anorexia. The 15th is coming... How am I gonna pay the rent?

There are times in a woman's life when she is tired and lonely and bordering on death due to starvation and she asks herself why the hell doesn't she just come running home to Mommy and Daddy and be their little bratty princess. Then, they send her an SMS. And she remembers.

Girls at the Enterprise

2006-09-05T20:48:00.000+08:00

Walking around the Central Business District has never inspired more envy in me as when I pass by the Enterprise. Let me get off at the Enterprise please. On the streets, on the lobby, on the sidewalk, and around the corner... one look and you know who's from the Enterprise. They have the glamour, the poise, the extreme happiness that come only with the satisfaction that poor proletariats will never cease to achieve. They say the grass always seems greener on the other side. This time, the grass is peach and smells of Issey Miyake.

Japanese Weirdfest

2006-09-02T06:43:00.000+08:00

He knocked on my door at 2 hours past midnight. Hours later, he said...

All my bags are packed; I'm ready to go
I'm standing here outside your door
I hate to wake you up to say goodbye

Random act for cheese? Or deliberate attempt?

Whut. everrr.

++++++++++++++++++

Japanese are cute weird interesting whatever-adjective-you-would-only-use-to-describe-them people. These are funny-ass pranks... The first time I saw it, I laughed my ass off.

Let's welcome the -Ber season with a loud hurrah.

In case you're looking for my August posts, they're here. Ber. Brrr.

Digression

2006-07-29T17:11:00.000+08:00

Dear God,

You're the best God in history. Although You constantly fling crap at me, You always did give me strength and wisdom to dodge it. Thank You for making me who I am, complete with my idiosyncrasies and all. You can continue doing what You're doing. I'll complain... but that doesn't mean I don't like it.

Amen.

Boys gone wild

2006-07-24T02:57:00.000+08:00

What in Jesse's name is going on in this world we are living in? The behavior of boys around me fall short of being good and noble, albeit it's what they claim to be. It's a terrible case of false advertisement.

One friend's boyfriend pees on her during coitus and claims to be too fucking drunk to remember the morning after. Another's suitor punched her in the face when he got turned down and called the girl a slut and said she deserved that punch. The suitor was not at all drunk. A very close friend doesn't care the girl who claims to be his girlfriend cannot correctly spell a four-letter word because she wouldn't need spelling skills when she's moaning in pleasure. A random boy claimed he was happy with his on-again-off-again girlfriend because he finally got his dream girl - tall and fair-skinned.

Goddamnyou boys. Has chivalry truly died? You measure your machismo with your coital track record. Well, that's not enough basis. Damn me for saying that... It's not a basis at all!

Don't get me wrong. I'm not some obsessed advocate of woman rights... But I do have strong feelings towards women empowerment. Hey, I love boys but only because they love me three-fold. No womyn must be sooo weak to be testosterone-dependent. I refuse to be a willing victim.

Yes, I whine... and whine... and whine. But I wouldn't be so whiney if I had nothing to whine about. Relationships with these boys must have a no-return-no-exchange policy. A guarantee that if they break our hearts, they must buy it.

Oh, and you know how boys degrade women by saying nothing comforts us more than a good dose of rumor and intrigue? Well, another story about me has reached my radar. Apparently, I engaged in another "group action" during one of our soirees in Laguna. Yes, I am, once again, a sex goddess for some. Some LimpDick decided he'd rather destroy my reputation than give me a shot at actually being taken seriously in a relationship. Who'd wanna be with someone infamous for being an easy lay, anyway. Bravo, dude. It appears you might have succeeded.

Oh geeesh. Boys are sooo lame. When will the real men step into my life?

This I got from Trinuhhh:
Fuck what you heard
And recognize what you see
I know you heard rumors
But you don't know the real me

Started out with a Kiss

2006-07-20T17:16:00.000+08:00

There's nothing like the first kiss. So I go around kissing every boy I want to kiss just to feel that toe-curling hurricane of my insides. (yes Mum, this gives you license to call your baby girl a slut now) It's also those first kisses that always always get me into trouble.

My love life is getting weirder and weirder. I don't know who's more creeped out with myself: him or me. It has become a talent, really. Creeping this certain person out. I do it without even trying. I exude the ability to make this person's skin crawl without even a bat of an eyelash. Haha. Hallelujah, I've done it again.

It's just so fascinating how those boys always give me the I love you-goodbye. One minute they love me, and they're scramming away faster than their Chuck Taylors can take them on the next. I'm actually getting used to it... expecting it, even. It's like, there's something strange about the guy if he stuck around after professing his undying love. Maybe, he's this major loser so so desperate to have a girl. Sorry buddy, not gonna be me.

Months later... I'm starting over. And still they say it makes me the queen of denial. Whatever. Tell me now... How did it end up like this? It was only a kiss.

It was only a kiss.

Shifting to 120

2006-07-20T16:49:00.000+08:00

About three months ago, I thought I was in the most intense transpo accident I could ever be. Boy, was I wrong.

Last Wednesday, or Thursday morning rather, around 3AM, I finally learned my lesson: NEVER dare a driver to go faster than he is running. So, we were on EDSA, right about meters past the spot where that schmuck kicked me out of the car, when Melvir reminded Karlo to go easy on the driving. Me and my devil's tongue replied with a "Huh?! Wala pa nga yan eh... Di pa nga siento-bente eh." With that, Karlo overtook the L300 in front, or that is, tried to overtake. We hit the L300, then got sideswept to a cargo van.

The car stopped spinning perpendicular to the road, in the middle lane. I was fucking literally shaking! Minutes later, the cops and media came. Woohoo. The car I was riding was shown on TV Patrol. It was described as "3 sasakyan, nagkarambola sa EDSA." And I have not the slightest idea what karambola means. Haha.

It's different when you're sober and alert as an owl. You get to see, hear and feel everything. It was goddamn Grand Theft Auto in Rialto! Thank God Melvir was there. He wrapped his arms around me right before the first hit. And that made such a huge difference from the first car crash.

Say hello to me: The car crash magnet.

Big Fish

2006-07-07T19:05:00.000+08:00

And so it's the last joke she ever told. The girl tells so many jokes that she becomes the joke.

I've been told more than once: I won't pass to be serious if I exerted it all my energy and in turn, I would never have the chance to be in a serious relationship. Touche. I will not argue with that. No one will take me seriously because I never project myself as serious. At least I'm not some emotional vampire who has a pathological stick up his ass. Oh yeah baby, feed on my happines. Suck it all out until I'm immersed in the same tub of misery as you. Pretty erotic, isn't it?

I gladly welcome misery into my life. The more miserable, the better. It's the fuel that drives me. I feel I am more alive and happy when I am miserable. And that, my friends, is just one of my infinite contradictions. I tried to be content with being happy. But I found myself sitting on a porch in suburbia, grinning with a lost stare. Not my idea of contentment, by the way. And sometimes, I actually want to thank you for taking a knife and stabbing me right where it kills.

I've said it before and I could say it many times more. You and I are one in the same. We complain about our lives not rhyming yet when we come so close to finding that right tune, we veer into a path that would give us more challenges so as we have a reason to whine and to cuss the world. And that's what confirms to us that we are real. When it hurts, it's real.

That's so poetic. That's so pathetic.

Neverwhere

2006-06-20T11:43:00.000+08:00

I am now living the life expectancy of a suicidal fruitfly.

My self-esteem has left for an indefinite leave and the only activity my brain has to endure is choosing which DVD to watch.

The saddest part is... I'm starting to enjoy and get used to it.

Mr. Big White Suckling Pig

2006-06-19T14:26:00.000+08:00

Yes, Mr. BWSP. You are the boss and we are your miniature monkeys, here to do your bidding. Asshole.

He thinks he rules the fucking world... hello. hellomoto.

How to tell you're over a guy 2

2006-06-09T15:22:00.000+08:00

Second, perhaps the funniest joke God could ever throw... Seeing him with another. A joke's more effective with the element of surprise and God knows that. Do not, I repeat, do not lose yourself in it. You want to be the one laughing, not the one being laughed at.

If you ended up somewhere you didn't plan to be at the wee hours of a gimik night, exhale the stress and enjoy yourself. Then, a familiar face pops out from behind your friend. You've never seen that face in person, only in print and a quick flash eons ago but the face just registered in your head. Fight the urge to stare. If your sane self is defeated by the psychotic self, turn your eyes to the next face. Don't pretend to be shocked when you see whose it is.

When, finally, the friend they were with takes notice of you and shouts your name as if he didn't notice you had your eyes fixed on his face already, blink. Blink and breathe. You may find this hard to do as the shock value had your eyes hanging out of their sockets. Blink.

Absorb the situation. Witness everything from an outsider's PoV. Nobody else knows what's going on in your head and nobody would care to know so like the first situation, follow the smile-and-wave lesson.

When pleasantries have been exchanged, and you start to feel your cheeks trembling from grinning too brightly and rather mechanically, look at your friends for signs of sympathy. Thank God (despite His humor) the group left before the last screw keeping your head and heart intact fell off.

Ignore the fact that you lit a cig and vigorously sucked the whole stick in three drags. Ignore the fact that your Cosmopolitan has lost its festive taste. Ignore the fact that you walked in a zombie-like state to the most proximal parking lot and screamed all your contained astonishment. Five ten-second Regina George-of-Mean Girls diapraghmic screams. Until the bodyguard approaches you to ask if you were okay and, no, you can't scream at a parking lot all you want.

Sit back down with your friends, be fascinated at God's humor, and question yourself if the last ten minutes actually happened or was all in your head, influenced by your hyperactive vivid imagination and the love novels you've thrown yourself into.

Send the guy's friend a friendly Wow. That was funn. SMS, only to realize that you weren't using your phone and he might as well think it was the phone's sarcastic owner who sent it.

Give yourself a pat on the back. You did such a good job making him realize who truly owns his heart.

A picture can tell a thousand stories

2006-06-08T08:55:00.000+08:00

Half of it are lies.

How to tell you're over a guy

2006-06-07T09:47:00.000+08:00

First, go on over to one of your usual hangouts without fear of seeing him and being seen by him. Deliberately miss the chance of seeing him, nonetheless. If God humors you with eventually catching sight of him, shrug and light a cigarette. Pretend to be affected by your friends' teasing of your being a wuss. Go on, order a beer and have funn.

If, perhaps out of courtesy, he makes his presence felt by an SMS, keep in mind that his number is saved as DONT TEXT!!! on your phone for a reason. Return the act of courtesy and neutrally acknowledge receipt of the SMS.

If one of your friends were used by God for the execution of His next joke, remember that profound lesson from Madagascar: smile and wave. Of course, this would be made easier when you wear your shortest pekpek shorts and hot green tank top. Drop a one-liner for effect and dash. If he replied, flash your killer smile, use a filler and make an exit.

It's okay to tell him you realized you missed him after you see him for the first time since the break-up two months ago. It is.

I love the sound of you walking away

2006-06-03T05:07:00.000+08:00

I do.

It's been so good since I last saw you...

2006-05-30T10:20:00.000+08:00

I wish that night was my turn again to rub my cheek against that white-shirted chest of his... That white-shirted chest that always provided me with much comfort and security. When I shook his hand, by God, I wished my hand could stay in his forever. I wish I leaned against him by the car. I wish I could've talked to him about more than his hair, about what he's been doing the past few weeks. I wish there were no other people around us that night. It was then that I realized how badly he has been missed.

But there is no longing to be with you... Just force of habit. And wishful thinking. No more hurting for the failure that was us. Friendship is once again a possibility.

All I know now is your name, but I still love you and everything about you.

I don't want to forget.

Penny Lane is dead and buried

2006-05-28T15:54:00.000+08:00

The fairy tale is over. I have completed my rebound.

Because. He's way out of my league. I don't want to be anything remotely similar to how I was seen and what I tried not be not so long ago.

Now, the South's not so appealing anymore. And my dilemma is solved.

Movie Sequences

2006-05-27T11:42:00.000+08:00

It was TGIF with a couple of the hot chick bloggers. Imagine typical random ladies' conversations. Mega chismax galore.

We kicked the night off at a very busy and overcrowded coffee shop in one of the busiest and crowdiest places to be at on a Friday night. We were chattering away, blending with the chatter around when the identity of my rebound boy slipped.

Tiepee and Tins screamed their disbelief in chorus. Backspace screamed. They screeched! You know, high piercing cries only crazy little girls can produce. The whole coffee shop fell silent and I felt all eyes on us. I almost fell off my chair laughing.

I imagined David Aames in Vanilla Sky when he confronted the tech support in a bar in his lucid dreams. Talk about a show stopper.

+++++++++++++++++++++

My new flat is on the fourth floor of a five-storey building. There is no elevator and my unit is first on the right at the top of the stairs, the unit number hidden from sight.

Since we moved in, there has been a handful of times when I mistakenly thought Unit E was home because seeing Unit H makes me subconsciously think the unit across it is mine. It's not. Mine's on the next floor.

I went to the store downstairs to buy cigs and ice-cold Coke (my fail-proof cure to a hangover) and was preoccupied with singing Urbandub's Endless, A Silent Whisper in my head as I went back up. When I opened the door to what I thought was my pad, I was aghast to find a different set of furniture and a pair of strange stunned faces staring at me. Haha. I entered Unit E.

I blurted my apologies and ran up the last flight of stairs laughing like there's no tomorrow.

Then, I realized that going home to the house next door like what happened to Robert Downey, Jr. in one of his cracked up nights is not much of an exaggeration. And I wasn't even on any substance when it happened to me.

Not as much as tomorrow

2006-05-26T11:54:00.000+08:00

I had to smile at that comment left at my last post. A comment left by anonymous instructing me to stop writing about anonymous you. Your vanity fascinates me. It really does. Go scratch your head now.

I have forgotten you more today than yesterday. Pretty soon, all the people who knows us will be receiving that sweet note:

Dear Miss/Mister ________,

Salbaheng Floi had [insert anonymous' name here] erased from her memory. Please never mention their relationship [or whatever game it was they played] again.

Lacuna, Inc.

Successfully eternal sunshined. Oh, a spotless mind.

Then...

Patrick. Singing. Sucking all my memories of you and turning them into his own. Making me wonder what beauty he sees in me now when all I see in the mirror is the monstrosity of heartbreak.

I like him more today than yesterday. All of him. Despite his whole pogi-rock cheesiness. Despite my reluctance to listen to his music and the urge to throw up everytime I do. Despite that funky feeling I get everytime I see his face on print or everytime I hear that utterly famous, pop-culture defining song. Despite all. And I don't even know why.

Still I see the tears from your eyes... Maybe I'm just not the one for you. ---That's what makes it a broken sonnet.

You never listen. These are supposed to be my monologues. Reply not and I will shut up soon enough.

Akala mo ikaw lang nagpagupit

2006-05-25T13:59:00.000+08:00

The killer line. Rawr. I wanted to pound the guy to pieces the moment he smiled after the last syllable slipped from his lips. Apparently, his insensitive intruding mouth pushed my buttons again. He must thank his gods I've had my toxin fix already lest he'd have borrowed a face from a dog.

I've been you-free for a good couple of weeks now. I had to sever some ties just so I won't have to reluctantly hear any news about you. You don't want me in your life so I don't want you in mine and I don't give a crap. Besides, I'm doing just fine, getting along very well without you in my life. Why ruin such a fascinating recovery?

A rebound is always a good thing. Wasn't I yours?

It's a vicious cycle, our story is. She left you, you used me, you left me and I'm using him. That song by Glenn Frey has never had more meaning to me than it does now. It used to be just a song I liked to refer to as "Pangromansa" with its lovely saxophone intro.

Are you gonna stay with the one who loves you
Or are you goin' back to the one you love?
Someone's gonna cry when they know they've lost you
Someone's gonna thank the stars above

I'm staying with the one who loves me. Or pretends to love me. Pretension is sometimes more acceptable than the truth. At least, pretension saves me from pain. What's the point of staying with someone you love, anyway? When the feeling has become obvious to be not mutual. Yes, the hollow hope for rekindled sparks.

The whole fucking wait is spent on that. How the hell else do we move on, for chrissake.

It's utterly a pity to mourn for something longer than its existence.

Speed the Need

2006-05-24T16:37:00.000+08:00

[...Continuation]

When I opened my eyes again, I was lying flat on my back... on my bed in the pad.

Teehee.

It was Monday afternoon and I dreamt the unfortunate accident. Too bad. But hey, the whole jetski experience is real except for everything turning dark. I've keen senses and good reflexes. I steered to the left and to safety just in time. Sayang. A better ending would've been a crash followed by an explosion. My very own action sequence. Bravo.

I might as well have been in the crash, though. My arms and shoulders and legs throb with so much strain. As a jetski passenger, I was flung at around 35 mph. I did about three cartwheels and two tumbles in the water. The pain in my neck from the car crash has returned, multiplied thrice. I feel like a mannequin being dislodged. The price of fun.

Still living life by the second. And yes, I am blissful again. Speed me up.

I am so blissful in the South that I have this ongoing argument in my head whether to stay or go. Psssh. Just when we've found the most homey pad in Pasig to, well, make our home after our current eviction. Hahay. This feels like an episode of Starting Over.

It's so much easier to say goodbye when you're the one who's leaving... So much difficult when you're the one who's being left behind.

Need for Speed

2006-05-23T15:05:00.000+08:00

As I settled in to drive the jetski, I could barely keep my hands still as I was shaking all over with excitement. Start and Stop buttons on the left. Acceleration lever on the right. Roger that.

I settled my index and middle fingers on the lever. Pressed a little. Whoa! A little goes a long way. Pressed all the way. Speedometer read 34 mph. I was jumping over the waves... more like taking flight. I couldn't even feel my heart pounding. I was too focused on holding on and steering. I felt the stress on my arms and shoulders as I fought the wind.

Must. Not. Let go. I tried to picture what would happen if I let go... I would be dragged by the hand by the jetski moving on momentum. That little red wrist strap.

I started to relax when I got the hang of it. Yes, I relaxed despite the adrenaline rush. My head was filled with memories... beautiful memories, happy memories. There was no yesterday and tomorrow. There was no this morning and later in the afternoon. I was focused on the moment. A very beautiful fascinating moment of freedom.

I took mental pictures of the horizon, the sky and the shore. 311's Beyond the Gray Sky was in full blast in my head.

I closed my eyes, smiled and faced the sky (like Meg Ryan in City of Angels before she crashed into the truck). I welcomed the bullets of seawater on my face. I imagined the wind blowing what was left of my wet hair. I truly was free.

I opened my eyes and was greeted by stones. No, not stones. Crap, I saw rocks! Boulders and boulders of huge solid jagged rocks. I was approaching the edge of a cliff at the end of the beach.

My mind went blank and I heard myself scream.

Then, everything went dark.

[To be continued...]

Bee Killing Spree

2006-05-20T05:05:00.000+08:00

Four down. Hundreds and hundreds more to go.

Next target: King Bee. Or, more appropriately, Prince Bee.

I could do it, wanna bet?

Maybe I am just a little bit crazy.

Oh don't you just wish you knew what I am talking about.

Boop boop bedoop.

Over You. Somehow.

2006-05-18T19:27:00.000+08:00

I missed Frisbee two weeks in a row. Weh. Ningas Cogon habit never left my system. Last week, I decided not to play at the last minute because I nursed my nasty bruise and scrapes from the previous week. Last night, I was just stuck in traffic.

My bruise and scrapes are all healed now. And so is my heart.

Forget regret or life is yours to miss. I've been a proud little girl who has always taken credit in not giving regret any effort. Yes, throw caution and regret to the wind. Would I rather have had flawless knees than play frisbee? Never. It was funn. I was happy while at it. The bruise and scrapes are a small price in exchange for the memories I've made.

The same goes for my heart. Although, there is still that silent ache everytime I'm reminded of you which is from the very first to the very last moments of my consciousness.

I miss you and watching you hit those drums with such intensity and passion and driving up north at the wee hours of the morning and texting you about nothing and talking to you on the phone till I could no longer stay awake and pretending to be asleep while you fill yourself with siopao and... well, that's mostly all I remember about you. Because... I easily forget all that is worth forgetting.

Mister Joe thinks cutting my hair this short is a form of rebellion. But really, I consider it an effective diversion. Of all the things I lost, I miss my hair most. Yes, my long soft straight hair. Thank you Sunsilk and Cream Silk. Oh, and my money. God, I miss my money.

Yo, Gaiman got it right. But instead of events, I'd say problems. Problems are cowards; they don't attack singly. They always come in packs.

Hiding from Mr. Hyde

2006-05-15T23:22:00.000+08:00

John Malkovich became one of the men of my fantasies after I watched him on Mary Reilly opposite Julia Roberts in October last year. What the??? After watching it again, I realized that you have a very strong resemblance to Mr. Hyde: long curly hair, barely stubbly chin, expressive eyes, masculine nose, fair soft baby buttcheek cheeks, broad shoulders, large hands and that naughty brooding aura.

Somehow, I've started to understand this obsession (yes, I prefer to call this that now). I subconsciously made an association between you and that character. You personified someone who only exists in a movie... Someone I've developed a very strong attraction to. And it has only proven to me how weird I can get.

Make that how weird my life can get. I received an invitation to hang at my usual hangout in the South earlier today which I graciously turned down because I wanted to get French tips. Lo and behold, you played there tonight. How long do we spend our lives wishing we were somewhere else? Somewhere farther away where it's easier to pretend some people do not exist and some events did not happen. Indeed.

In Good Company sucks. I hate the ending.

Candlewax on my fingers

2006-05-14T22:42:00.000+08:00

I passed time last night watching candles burn... literally. The electricity interruption was in my favor. I felt a very strong attack of "you mentionitis" so I sought a distraction to keep myself from giving in. It worked except for those few moments that the urge was too strong I had to hug Rhaiz to stifle the memory vomit. I can't. Not just yet... Be at the places we were together at, be with the people we were with, discuss issues we used to talk about. I never could, I fear. But no, I plan to heal. I do.

I never asked for this feeling. I never asked to feel, period. I didn't ask to find someone to love. I didn't ask to be loved. I was doing perfectly fine on my own thank you very much. Well, it has been told that we don't realize we are hungry for something until we have a little taste of it. All that time I was fixated and jaded, I was convinced I'll survive without that special someone. What in the cow's offspring did I do to deserve to be told I love you to one minute and left shivering in the dust on the next? Especially when I've done everything I could to be the ideally perfect girlfriend. I tried to understand everything... What I cannot understand is this. Crap. Nobody can truly empathize with this pain.

I wish your name were something else... One not of grenadine and strawberry DJ Mix. One that doesn't give a warm marshmallowy feeling everytime it's spelled in my head. One that isn't too unique and distinctive. One that is easy to forget. You simply have the sweetest name. And it kills me.

The memory of the molten candlewax on my skin is nothing compared to the memory of you.

Let the rain fall

2006-05-12T20:20:00.000+08:00

Trivia: Someone who has roots from Ilo-Ilo and Pangasinan is called either an Ilonggatok or Panggalonggo. Whichever tickles your funny bone more.

This is exactly the reason why it's so much better to be unattached. You can laugh, be silly and create memories with anyone without having to feel guilty and overwhelmed with existing memories.

I've realized that being in a relationship and being attached are two different things. A relationship implies two people attached to each other. I'm still attached to someone eons after the relationship ended. So, there you go.

The rain poured hard and after he has eaten his two slices of Pizza, we dashed off to wherever we could pass time without having to spend. There's something about running in the rain that lifts my happiness level that I wasn't the least bothered at having my painstakenly blowdried hair dampened by rainwater (despite futile efforts of shielding it with the SM plastic bag of shirts I was carrying), my buttcrack jeans slipping down from the weight of the absorbed rainwater and, oh God, thank you for making me decide not to wear a white shirt.

We took shelter at Starbucks when I realized, WTF, the receipt attached to the SM plastic bag was wet and disintegrated and I need it for accounting purposes. So I tried to salvage what I could.

A cup of short decaf White Choco Mocha later, we played that game in grade school... The one that each of you slaps the other's hand. I gave it my full strength when he decided to dodge it. My hand went straight to the cup of water on the table, sending its contents flying everywhere, like the downpour we took shelter from. I guffawed uncontrollably. Ah, good times.

He's my pill... My Happy Happy Floi Floi pill. Why didn't I realize that before?

Yum. Hangover. Yum.

2006-05-10T13:59:00.000+08:00

Paranoia is a lovely thing. My stalker stats show that someone arrived at my blog from a link at a blog I've never been to. I visited it and it turned out that the blog belongs to someone I know but never really had the chance to be friends with. Now, if only I could find that link...

..........................

Cigarette burns. Spilled drinks. Falling off chairs. Performing on stage. Talent fee. A shot at stand-up comedy. Good conversation. Reconciling with that schmuck. Peanut Brittle. Reggae music. I should be very happy now. But this depression is gnawing on me like I'm some slice of overcooked steak.

I was at a music lounge last night with a few friends to celebrate an engagement. I never really liked music lounges... I guess I've watched show bands one too many times in my life. And when you've listened to real musicians, you just can't settle for less than quality music.

I've always been mistaken for a boy, with my name and all. But last night... Last night brought home the bacon. I was not only mistaken to be a boy, but a gay. Except for that one time at a gay bar where I was mistaken to be gay because of my actions. God. I was just sitting there, being sang Happy Birthday to and the idiot onstage thought I was gay. He thought I was a boy with a high-pitched voice. Bravo.

I'm so depressed I can't cum. What did you do to me.

Proof of a Schmuck

2006-05-05T13:38:00.000+08:00

When was the last time you did something for the first time?

This is what happened last Tuesday night:

It was 2:30am of Wednesday and I was sobering up at a friend's pad from the high of finally getting to watch Urbandub live (which was actually disappointing because they didn't sound as well as they do recorded) when my phone rang to an unregistered number's call. I never answer anonymous phone calls so I cancelled it and sent an SMS instead. Holy cow, it turned out to be someone I've lost touch with over the past months and has been trying to get in touch with since my handydandy mo' phone crashed (for those who has read my previous blog, he's my geeky Peter Pan. But don't get all excited yet). He has just read my offline message with my number. So... he had a 4am appointment at Commonwealth and was looking for ways to kill time. Since two of the friends I was with live at Commonwealth, the plan was to meet up at Timog, then he'd drop me off at Pasig before going straight to Commonwealth to drop my friends off and attend his meeting.

Everything was going well... Back with our friendly banter and ridiculing our state of unrelationship... Until my stupid mouth took the stage again. We were on EDSA when out of the blue (and for reasons I really cannot remember), I blurted, "Kupal ka kase". It's almost part of my social convention, really... that expression. Kupal, as some of you may know, when translated to English is Schmuck. Schmuck, as some of you may know, is not a very pleasant term. He fell uncomfortably quiet, pulled over and made me get out of the car. Initially, I laughed it off and waved it as a joke... We were in the middle of the highway three hours from sunrise, for chrissakes! He couldn't have been serious, could he? Well, he was.

I coughed my apologies and tried to lift the atmosphere with my cutesy-patutesy strategies. I never could breathe when placed in awkward serious situations. When he pulled over at the nearest gas station and asked, "You think you're gonna be okay here?", I got off without blinking an eye and banged the door shut. What a schmuck.

Two points of experience added to my book of firsts.

A Month of Mourning

2006-05-01T23:03:00.000+08:00

The next worst thing to a break-up is being told "You're smart. You're young. You're beautiful. You can have any guy you want." by people in an effort to comfort me. I know they have the purest of intentions but hey, it makes me want to grab the closest hard object and smash it on their sympathetic faces. How many brain cells would it take for them to deduce that if I could have any guy I want, then why can't I have you?!

I warned all who has heard not to say bad things about you nor insult you in any way. Nobody must call you a jerk, stupid boy nor an asshole (except for myself, of course) because I wouldn't want to wallow in self-pity and remorse that I fell in love and am loving a jerk, stupid boy or an asshole. It all reflects back to me. And I would only stand for your defense by bringing up all the wonderful things that made me this pitifully obsessed with you... Then, how the heck can I erase the memories and move on?!

It has been three weeks... I have been ticking off each day that passes and the number of steps I have taken away from you. I feel like I am stuck in the moment you left me with... But being in withdrawal and overcoming the cold turkey syndrome really did help. If I am so close to throwing my excess baggage over the bridge, why is it you find it too hard to get rid of yours?!

Question Mark. Exclamation point.

Doing a David Copperfield

2006-04-29T15:53:00.000+08:00

Somebody left a comment mentioning escapism. I don't know what the heck is wrong with my comprehension but I just can't grasp what he is trying to say. Is it directed at me or you? Oh well... All I know is it left me with this realization that has been nagging behind my brain.

I've been trying to fix the little clutter that my life has become in a relatively short time. Labored for a long while, lost in a fleeting moment. Having too much time in my hands is driving me to insanity. I can not stand still. Oh geez, it's time to pick up where I left off.

It didn't occur to me that my whole life, I not only have been running but I've been running away. High school. Family. College. Career. Boys. It's a series of unfinished chapters. I go back to each one and instantly feel the same as when I last let myself feel it. I haven't been living but merely surviving. (Let me quote you on that one) Can I muster enough strength to actually live?

I finally smiled and laughed last night... As I have before this. I was surrounded by everyone and everything that has, without falter, given me overwhelming happiness and unconditional love. This is my escape... My surreal reality. It was so easy to say I'm doing fantastic and that I can move on from you and everything else... Because this is a world wherein you do not exist. You are merely another name in my long list.

Is there any way to cut Laguna off from Manila? I never want to go back.

Rebound

2006-04-26T16:19:00.000+08:00

Recognition is the opium of the self-indulgent. I'm high on 379 views of my Friendster profile since 04/01/06 and 626 visitors to this blog since March 15, 2006. Vanity is definitely my favorite sin.

I have played the field for exactly a year and a half until this boy came along and deluded me into thinking that unconditional love can actually exist. It was all a delusion... figments of my hyperactive imagination. I used to run, hit the road, don't commit. Until... without realizing it, I have developed a devotion to someone who is unquestionably unworthy. How fucking longer must I live in denial? Only I can answer that, I suppose.

I didn't plan on this, on crying my eyes out and spreading anger to unknowing loved-ones. I've always known and told myself that when the situation requires, I would fade goodbye. I have done it for so long that I am disappointed and surprised at myself for everything that I have been thoughtlessly doing for the past two weeks. I am in so much anguish that I would like to beg the people who love me to shoot me on sight. I have to stop this madness somewhere.

Oh good Lord, I'm afraid I am back to being a cynic.

On other matters, I returned to the South. Living in my parents' house, living on my parents' money (mercifully without a curfew), hanging at places from high school days. Hey, I have new friends. Future boyfriends *with crossed fingers*. It IS so much better to play the field.

The Car Crash that I never thought I'd be in

2006-04-25T14:17:00.000+08:00

So it was like this:

I was supposed to watch the 845 screening of Rent with the family last night but I kinda missed that it's R-13 so baby sis can't watch so we ended up just hanging around. I didn't want to end the night so early because my hair was blowdried to perfection (such vanity) so I texted Ipertz for couples.

After n bottles of beer, I was already buzzed so we said our goodbyes and I got in a cab. My world was still spinning when, just as the cab was turning right on Shaw, this white Civic appeared out of nowhere and rammed into the left front of the cab. My body was wedged on the seat but my head was suddenly thrown in an awkward direction that I think I heard my neck snap.

That's when it hit me. Needless to say, the cab was a total wreck... and so was I. It was surreal but definitely not nice. I felt the cab spinning, and I saw my head smash into the window at slo' mo. Okeiii, so it wasn't as dramatic it sounds, but it could've been! Haha. I swear it was preeeeetty horrible. It didn't occur to me that I could've died. At that time, all I was concerned about was if I was bleeding anywhere. I was so scared that I'd have a nasty scar on my face or something. The Civic that sideswiped us banged smack into a jeep. Take that mo'fo! When I got out of the cab, I was stunned beyond speech. Although it did slip my mind that hey cool, I've never been in a car crash before. Flip, huh?

I sobered up in a matter of minutes, got into another cab and wished the crash were worse.