Superficial

"I want someone who I'm attracted to physically and have a connection with emotionally. Is that such a crime?" I said with such vigor.

He was starting to piss me off. I guess I was upset because he kept calling me superficial. Maybe I am, but aren’t we all?

Would Cinderella have been attracted to Prince Charming if he looked like Shrek? The only reason Fiona eventually got hitched with him was because she turned out to be an ogre too. Even Bell (Beauty) was not attracted to Beast instantly right? Lucky for her Beast turned out to be handsome at the end. Would she have been fascinated with him if he remained the Beast? Maybe so, but like all fairytales, it ended on a happy note. Go figure.

So why would it make you superficial to find an attractive partner? Or at least someone you’re attracted to initially. I want that! We all do, whether we would like to admit it or not.

Yes, you may find beauty beneath the ugly but would you consider even dating ‘ugly’ if you’re not the least bit attracted on a certain level?

Cue song: Humanap ka ng panget at ibigin mong tunay… (‘wag na uyyy, wag na, wag na)

Ok, so everyone deserves a chance to find love too and while physical appearance may not matter to some, it does matter to most. We all live in very cynical world and having certain preferences doesn’t make us lesser people. We’re just specific.

Tall, dark, and handsome.
Fair, cute, and small.
Chubbies,
Leans, medium builts, or muscle sculpted.
Adonis/Athena-like features.
Short haired or long.
Clean or mullet cut.
Smooth or hairy.

Preferences, we all have them.

But more often that not the ideal physical look that we want to find in a partner, they do not have.

That’s why it’s called preference, not requirements. It’s nice to have but not a prerequisite.

At the end of the day, you just want someone to connect with. You want to meet someone that would make your life a little more meaningful. It’s an additional reason for you to wake up each morning and just be happy. A person that when you meet, you hear bells, chimes, Angels singing Hallelujah or even Bocelli. Not a big gong or a voice saying “Run AWAY quick!”

Searching it on the omniscient Wikipedia I found these results.

Superficial is a general term meaning "regarding the surface", often metaphorically. Both in the literal as in the metaphorical sense the term has often a negative connotation based on the idea that deeper parts are also important to consider.

Now tell me, is it such a crime?

Stolen

What an unlucky day it was for me.
My entire bag was stolen last Sunday, Aug 17, 2008.

Laptop (office issued), my PSP, my external HD, my Sony Cybershot T200 Digital Cam, my iPod, and a lot of little precious things.

I hate it. It still brings tears to my eyes everytime I remember it. Not so much of the things but the memories that I have locked in my laptop and external HD. Specifically, 9,000 ++ songs and 14,000++ pictures. WTF!!!!

11:30PM Gen. Malvar cor J. Bocobo. In a taxi.

ARRRGHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

But I still try and count my blessings. At least, I wasn't harmed. At least it wasn't the new dSLR I bought. I've been aching to buy an iPod Classic anyway. PSP kept me away from reading books, but now I got into reading again. Songs, I can always recover somehow. Pictures, Thank God for Multiply.

It's a pain to lose your things but it's even more painful to hear the nagging and disappointment from my mother's voice. :( Sigh!

I need a hug!

Somebody to Loooooove....

I remember it was a cold night. The rain just stopped and left puddles of water on the busy road. It was pretty late and people were rushing home. I decided to stop a local coffee shop to just think. Think about life and love and why it's seems to be so elusive for me.

For as long as I can remember this was the only topic I always write about, love. I've had my fair share (of it) so I guess that would about qualify me to share my stories.

Recent events (and by events I mean dates) in my life had left me to believe that I may never be one of those people who finds their happy ending. At 26, I feel jaded about the entire thing but I do try to remain hopeful. Wishing that someday I'd get to meet one person who'd make my life seem less important.

Everyday I awoke and went with my usual routine. Roll out my bed, dragged myself to the toilet. I bathed, towelled myself dry, shaved, brushed my teeth (twice), and put on my clothes. I went down the stairs, grabbed something to eat and headed out to another day of singlehood.

I don't know why I'm so bothered by the fact that I'm single. Perhaps because I never got used to it.

I started having a relationship when I was 15 and after countless of relationships, which included, liars, nymphomaniacs, addicts, deranged, players, puppy loves, older men, younger men, men my age, and everything else in between.

I enjoyed my first couple of months being single but now, this self-proclaimed love monkey is just going bananas.

Every night seemed colder than the last. The rain kept pouring. People still went their way and I sat there and watched. I wondered if out of the billions and billions of people in this planet, why was I still alone when love seemed to be everywhere.

***Photo taken from Magekin at Deviant Art: http://magekin.deviantart.com/art/Left-In-A-Corner-86372058

Morning Tear

Original Song by Brandy
revived by: Westlife

Have you ever loved somebody so much
It makes you cry?
Have you ever needed something so bad
You can't sleep at night?
Have you ever tried to find the words
But they don't come out right?
Have you ever?

Have you ever?

Have you ever been in love
Been in love so bad
You'd do anything
To make them understand?
Have you ever had someone
Steal your heart away?
You'd give anything
To make them feel the same?
Have you ever searched for words
To get you in their heart
But you don't know what to say
And you don't know where to start?



Have you ever found the one
You've dreamed of all your life?
You'd do just about anything
To look into their eyes?
Have you fin'ly found the one

You've given your heart to
Only to find that one
Won't give their heart to you?
Have you ever closed your eyes and
Dreamed that they were there

And all you can do is wait
For that day when they will care?




What do I gotta do to get you in my arms, baby?
What do I gotta say to get to your heart
To make you understand
How I need you next to me?
Gotta get you in my world
'Cause, baby, I can't sleep



Have you ever?
(loved somebody so much it makes you cry...)
-o-

Well, have you? Huh?!

At some point, we all did... But what happens after your long search, you think you found 'the one,' only to find out you have to keep looking.

Do you cry some more?

Do you continue your search?

Give up?

Wait?

Pray?

Hope... Dream...

-o-

After a promise not too long ago, not to dance in the rain anymore to hide the tears. You wake up one morning only to realize you don't really need the rain,


you have your sunglasses.

Crazy... Die... Worms Will Eat Me!

I don't know why I easily get affected by the people around me? For some reason, when someone close to me is sad, depressed or just plain down. I can't help but feel the same way. And no matter how hard I try to shake it off, it's like a nagging mother-in-law that chases after you. It's both irritating and sad.

I want to learn how it is to be detached but there are very few people to learn from. And it would probably take years of practice to master.

It's just one of those days, I guess. Stressed. Depressed. And I feel as if everything around me suddenly turned gloomy. The sun didn't shine as bright as I hoped today. And my previous night didn't fair any better. Things that usually don't bother me on my normal days, irritate the hell out of me today. Voices of colleagues that I hear everyday, suddenly sounds like a siren on an abulance or a fire alarm. The phone ringing sounds like a bells clanging. Boisterous laughter seems like a giant balloon that keeps popping beside you. You just want to get the hell out of there.

And then a brilliant solution, the iPOD.

But just as luck may have it today, something got stuck on the earphone jack of my iPOD which prevented me from alienating the rest of the world. And I have been trying to get it out the whole morning but it just wouldn't budge. Off to the Mac Centre when I get back to have this darn thing fixed.

Crazy?! I'm not crazy!
I don't wanna die!

Die?! I don't want to die!
Worms will eat me!

Worms?! I hate worms!
They drive me crazy!

Crazy?! I'm not crazy!
I don't wanna die!

Die?! I don't want to die!
Worms will eat me!

Worms?! I hate worms!
They drive me crazy!

Crazy?!...

(repeat forever!)

Ramblings in Tagalog

Hindi ko alam kung ilan ang nagbabasa ng blog ko. Hindi ko din alam kung karamihan ba pinoy o may mga foreigners din na nagbabasa. Nahuli ko kasi yung isang ka-opisina ko na nagbabasa ng blog ko kaya hangga't maari, hindi ako nagsusulat ng tagalog. Mahirap na, kawawa naman ang fans. ("LORRRD!" sabi ni Nget.) Pero ang alam ko kay Ms. Vicky daan-daan or maaring libo-libo pa nga ang nagbabasa. Sikat na kasi si Atche!

Malapit na ako umuwi. Mga tatlong tulog na lang. Excited na nga ako eh. Namimiss ko na kasi friends ko sa Manila. Saka di mashadong ka-gandahan ang mga tao dito. Nakakaumay tingnan. Di katulad ng mga maowdel friends ko. (Pout Che, pout!)

Naalala ko yung sinulat ni Joey, tungkol sa Manok. Naiihi pa din ako sa kakatawa pag naalala ko sha. Napakatalino ng taong ito. Kung ano-ano ang naiisip. Pati manok pinagdidiskitahan. Kamusta naman di ba?

Marami-rami akong kaibigan na hayup kung magsulat, tulad na lang ni Nat. . Bestfriend ko yun, doctor, inglesera, sosyalera, pero sa loob-loob may pag ka cowboy din.

Pansin mo ba, naadik ako sa paglilink sa ibang tao. Iniinggit kasi ako ni Atche na marunong daw siya, so nalavinia ako. Kaya pinatunayan ko din na marunong ako.

Teka, teka, segway muna, nak-ng-tokwa, na distract ako don sa dumaan na kano. Ang gwapo ng animal. Kamukha ni Ramon Christopher pero mas gwapo ito. Kaso may kasamang bilat. Confirmed direcho ang takbo ng utak nito. Yung bilat, parang model, kamukha ni Natalie Portman, mas maganda nga lang si Natalie.

Epekto ito ng madaming trabaho. Kailangan pa minsan-minsan lumabas ako sa office at wag mashado magtrabaho. Kakapagod din kasi, stressed na stressed na ako. Dami kong deadlines, kung ano-anong proposals at projects. Sa Friday na daw ang huling palugit sabi ni Bossing. Feeling kasi nila si Superman ako, di nila alam, si Darna ang favorite ko.


Tagal naman magdownload ng Adobe Photoshop Trial Version. Dalawang oras na ako nagdodownload asa 16% pa lang. 7 hours 30 minutes pa daw. 'Nak ng! Bukas na nga lang. Pagod na ako.

TRIP Support

My Friends please support....

Bata, Bata Paano Ka Ginawa?

Baket nga ba na karamihan ng matatanda nahuhumaling sa mga bata?

Madami-dami na din akong kaibigan ang nakikipagrelasyon sa bata. Dahil ba mas maalaga? Mas malambing? Mas inosente? Kung iisipin mong mabuti, nung kabataan mo ba ganon ka? Mas maalaga, malambing at inosente?

At bakit sa iyong pagtanda biglang nagbago ang lahat. Ito ba ay dahil sa karanasan mo nung ikaw ay namumulat pa lang sa alindog ng ka-munduhan? Ano nga ba ang dahilan kung bakit mas masarap magmahal ang bata?

-0-

Ayaw ko ng bata. Para sa akin sakit lamang ito sa ulo. Maigi pa na kumuha ka ng bato at ipukol na lamang sa iyong ulo. Ika nga nila, immature daw ang mga bata. Mahirap alagaan at pakibagayan. Iba kayo lagi ng trip sa buhay. Kung ikaw, mahilig lang mamalagi sa bahay at masaya na na nagbabasa ng libro habang pinapatugtog ang Jazz Classics cd na binili mo nung isang linggo, ang mga bata naman mas gustong nagkakape sa Trinoma or di kaya nagiinuman sa Malate. Ma-gimmik, yan ang buhay ng bata. Parang lahat gustong tikaman at maranasan. Oo, sige na, hindi lahat ng bata ganito ang trip sa buhay. May mga iba na mahilig din tumambay sa bahay at magbasa na lang ng libro. Pero ilan ang kilala mo na ganito?

Bago ang lahat, ilang taon ba ang bata para sa inyo? Sampu pababa, bente pataas hanggang trenta? Para sa mga asa mid-20s, matanda na daw sila. Pero para sa early-30s bata din daw sila kumpara sa mga 40s, 50s, 60s, 90s... So, ano ba talaga? At dahil nabibilang ako sa mga mid-20s, para sa akin lahat ng mas bata sa edad ko, BATA. Kahit alam kong bata pa din naman ako.

Ang gulo. Parang turumpo.

Marami na din naman akong naranasan sa buhay ko para sabihin kong medyo matanda na ako. Medyo lang. Kung kaibigan kita at alam mo ang buhay ko, mag-a-agree ka din sa akin. Pero madami naman sa inyo na hindi ako kilala, kaya maniwala ka na lang.

-0-

Pero baket nakakahumaling pa din ang bata? Masaya kasi kasama ang bata, parang feeling mo bata ka na din.

High School.

Naalala mo ba ang ligawan nung high school? Nung hindi pa ganon kalala ang cellphone, texting, at Friendster, Multiply, G4M, at kung ano-ano pang internet social networking sites. May chatting na non. Pero Java Script or MiRC nga lang.

"ASL?"

"16yo M Manila"

"ic"

"U?"

"26 M Bulacan"

"Layo... lol!"

At makalipas ang ilang pagpapalitan pa ng mensahe...

"So, EB?"

"Sure, san tayo magkikita? Ano suot mo?"

"Sa McDo Quezon Ave. Magsusuot ako ng blue cap, white shirt and jeans."

"Ok. Sige, kita tayo ng 1pm."

Naalala nyo ang mga ganitong usapan? Mahirap makipag-EB noon kasi wala namang picture. O kung meron man, kailangan mo pang pumunta ng computer shop para lang magpa-scan. Hassle, dami keme. Kaya kadalasan papakinggan mo na lang ang nararamdaman mo at magdadasal ka na ang kikitain mo ay hindi mukhang bakulaw.

Kadalasan din, dadating ka sa lugar na inyong pinagusapan at magugulat ka na lang na may apat na naka blue cap, white shirt at jeans. Ang saya-saya. Pero dahil hindi ka sigurado king sino sa kanila ang dapat mong lapitan, magpapakyut ka nlang at magaantay na ikaw ang lapitan nila.

Anak ng, oo nga pala, nakalimutan mong ikaw lang ang nagtanong ng suot nya. Hindi mo nasabi kung anong suot mo. Patay na! Paano na 'to? At dahil hindi pa uso ang cellphone... Teka, uso na pala, wala ka lang non. Putcha.

Makalipas ang apat na oras, umalis na din ang tatlong naka blue cap, white shirt and jeans. Isa na lang ang natira. So by the process of elimination, mukhang bibinggo ko na. Pero malas, sa tinagal-tagal ng pagaantay mo...

"Excuse me. Are you John Michael?"

"Huh? Sorry, James Martin ang pangalan ko."

'Nak ng tipaklong, lapit na eh, parehong JM.

Maraming posibiledad kung bakit hindi ka nagtagumpay. Una, sha nga si John Michael pero dahil hindi ka nya type, nagpanggap na ibang tao na lang sha. Ikalawa, hindi talaga siya yun at nagkamali ka talaga. Ikatlo, malas ka lang talaga.

Teka, anong araw na nga ba ngayon?

Sabado.

Bukas pa pala EB ko.

Linggo.

Memory gap.

-0-

Ang saya-saya main-love nung high school ka. Madaming kakilig-kilig na pangyayari. Makatanggap ka lang ng page (Pocketbell, EasyCall o kung hip ka, Jazz Page) mula sa crush mo, para kang maiihi sa tuwa. Madalas, maguusap kayo sa phone (landline). Telebabad. Kadalasan patago mo pa gagawin kasi bawal ka mahuli ng nanay mo at sigaradong patay ka. May pasok kasi kinabukasan at bawal magpuyat.

Ano nga ba pinaguusapan nyo non? Ito yung mga sinasabi nilang sweet nothings. Sa madaling sabi, mga walang kwentang bagay na pinaguusapan pero dahil crush mo yung tao, kinikilig ka pa din. Tulad ng anong episode ang naganap sa Bioman/Daimos or kung ano mang cartoons at kahit teleserye noon (Gulong ng Palad, Cebu, Dakak, Isabel Sugo ng Birhen, Ana Lisa at sa mga bago-bago, Marimar o Mara Clara) ang palabas nung panahon na yun.

Nakahiga ka sa kama. Paikot-ikot, patumbling tumbling sa kumot habang hawak pa din ang telepono. Ngiti na hanggang makabilang tenga. Ngiting aso.

At bigla mo na lang makikita ang relo mo, alas tres na.

"O, cge goodnight na."

"Ok. Sige, tulog na tayo ha."

"Goodnight!"

"Sige, ibaba mo na ang telepono."

"Ikaw muna. Ikaw tumawag eh."

"Ikaw na."

"O, sige, sabay tayo ha"

"Ok. Ok."

"One... two... three..."

Biglang tahimik.

"Oh, bat di mo binaba?"

"Eh, bat di mo din binaba?"

"Eh sabi mo sabay eh"

Hala, sa mga pagkakataon na ito kasalukuyang mamatay-matay ka na sa kilig.

Hay.. mga bata nga naman! Ang saya-saya!

Gusto kong bumalik ng High School. Masarap nga main-love sa bata. Walang violation. Walang basagan ng trip. Masarap talaga bata di lang dahil sa kilig, pero dahil din sa madaming ibang bagay. Fresh meat, ika nga.

Alam mo na yun.

The Last Great Romantic

Chances are you'll meet someone that will simply sweep you off your feet, carry you in a far and distant land and vow to make you happy for the rest of your life. And while most believe that fairytales are just stories to compensate for your longing, waiting and need to be with someone. For some, it does happen.

Waiting for the right 'prince' to come can take as much patience as once can tolerate in a lifetime. But when he comes knocking on your doorstep, one can only surmise the amount of joy and passion seeing that shining armour.

I sat here thinking about you.
Wondering if that blinding light has caused me to see beyond what I can only dream about. Somewhere in a land I have never travelled,
you looked at me in silence seemingly whispering to follow.
Beyond the truth,
beyond any experience,
across foolishness, hate, and fear,
I saw myself drawn near.
My world divides,
and my soul seeks the one.
In your frail gesture of the things that surround me,
of which I could not feel,
I could not touch because I knew at once you loved me.
And if dreams, hopes and wishes are for children,
and love is tale for fools,
I'd like to live this tale with you.

Believing that a fairytale can come true is the same as believing in God. Both require faith.

As a child I learned that if you want something you can pray. And out of the gazillion of prayers HE hears every single day, you wonder if he actually has time to answer all of them. Good news is that He does. Bad news, sometimes the answer is NO.

Most likely, the love of your life will not be a prince. He will not be as glorious as you have imagined. He will not be on a steed dressed in golden saddle. He will not be wearing a shining armour. He will not be the one you expect him to be. But there will be something there to let you believe that while he is not your prince, he's someone who will care for you and love you unconditionally.

Oftentimes, we set expectations on people we would want to meet. We set standards on what we believe is the perfect person for us. Idealism.

(Idealism is the doctrine that ideas, or thought, make up the whole or an indispensable aspect of any full reality.)

A deranged perception of reality, bounds you to believe that a lifetime can happen.

But then, you wake up one morning fearing everything that was just a reverie you stumble to get out of bed. A familiar face greets you, “Good morning, Hun!”

Chances are your fairytale just came true.

Sunday with Tunde

Hey, so you threw your heart right in

And it turned out less than perfect
A losing streak is starting in your mind
You let yourself believe the pain
Is never gonna be worth it

I've been in Malaysia for two weeks now and I'm missing all of my friends in Manila. I'm supposed to go back home on Saturday, Aug 2 but it looks like I'll be staying here one more week. I still need to finish a lot of things. Turn over documents to the new girl on the block. Train the new guy and hire and interview a couple of dozen more people for the job. So tiring. So lonely.

Missing Atche and her ramblings, stories, scams, mood swings and everything else in between. I know from reading her blog (http://iamsucculent.blogspot.com) that she misses me too. It's just different here with no close friends to share your life with.

Don't beat yourself up
Know that you were never wrong for wishful thinking
So you done lost the battle
Should we just cross out your name and let you sink

Missing Sepid and her funny moments. She seems to be coping a lot better now. I didn't know how strong she was until now. I'd like to share her story but I promised her I would not say anything. But for the readers out there who doesn't know her, just think betrayal.

I was looking at our pictures from way back when. During the time she was still with the company. It made me miss her even more. Being with her was one of the best moments I remember. Remember Singpore Sep? Hilarious!

I'm missing Reejoie too. We usually share stories about our frustrations about the company and how unfair it can be for some of us. I heard she's sick now. Probably her allergies are acting up again. (Get well soon, Badette!)

You got me feeling like the last surviving
Great romantic
But stop dreaming and the world stops spinning around
You feel foolish cause love never turns out
Like you planned it
But stop believing and the world starts letting you down

There a couple of good things that happened to me while I was here though. One, I got my new toy. For months and months we (Reejoie and I) have been thinking of what dSLR to buy. We were agreed that Nikon was still one of the best cameras but we can't decide which one to get, Nikon D60 or Nikon D80. I did an extensive research on both cams and while I think D80 is still the better cam, I ended up buying the D60, mainly because it was best for my budget. (Read: previous blog)

The other good thing was the cause of my sleepless nights, huge phone bill, welcomed distractions, and the reason I smile on idle moments. Not going to dwell on that for now. Let's just say I'm looking forward to be home. Honestly though, this scares the sh*t out of me. But I won't let my fear get in the way of my chance to be happy.

So, you had to let it go
It clearly wasn't working
A new love leaves you trembling
You hide behind the door
So unsure of what you used to know
So now you think you're every move ten steps ahead
And you are frozen
Caught inside yourself
You're drowning as the anger overflows

I haven't heard anything from Singapore Guy for quite some time now. Yes, we dated again just before I flew to Malaysia. I invited him out for a movie and we were suppose to meet again later that night. But for some reason, we didn't. Must be fate. Must be a sign telling me to give it up. How many more times do I have to see the door close for me to realize there's nothing or no one coming back? My messianic complex kicked it.

-0-

The Messiah Complex is a state in which the individual believes themselves to be, or destined to become, the saviour of the particular field, a group, an event, a time period, or in an extreme scenario, the world. This could also be the state in which a group views an individual as a messiah, such as followers of a cult leader. The cult leader doesn't have to claim to be a messiah, but if he is treated as such by his followers, it can also be classified as such.

People with a messiah complex tend to see themselves as saviors to a specific group of people or a specific field, making claims of their own glory, or claiming a self-awareness of their own gift and how that gift can affect a group of people or a field of life.

In the most extreme cases, people with a messiah complex may see themselves as spiritual/religious messiahs with transcendent powers who are destined to save the world.

(Taken from: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Messianic_complex)

-0-

Nothing extreme as such saving the world. Just one person. Who likes playing.

He seems like a player. Acts like a player. Can be a player. Maybe he IS a player. But one thing is for certain, I gave this guy the power to hurt me. And I'm taking that power back.

You got me feeling like the last surviving
Great romantic
But stop dreaming and the world stops spinning around
You feel foolish cause love never turns out
Like you planned it
But stop believing and the world starts letting you down

You got me feeling like the last surviving
Great romantic
But stop dreaming and the world stops spinning around
You feel foolish cause love never turns out
Like you planned it
But stop believing and the world starts letting you down

So...

I've got two more weeks here and I'm doing ok spening my Sunday with Tunde. But I miss spending it with Nat. Black and White in Good Earth. And loving every second of it!

(Shout out to Vicky who introduced Tunde to me, who sounds like Seal and whose songs cuts deep like a knife. Lyirics: http://www.lyricsmania.com/lyrics/tunde_lyrics_3177/tunde_lyrics_10338/great_romantic_lyrics_119536.html)

Me and My Nikon D60

Ok, so after months of waiting, I finally bought my very first d-SLR. My new toy! Me so happpeeee!!! =D

I started photography very early. I joined the PhotoSoc (Photography Society) back when I was in grade 6 and then joined the Advanced Photography Club a year later. I was using a Nikon and Canon SLR back then and I learned a lot. But through the years, with the advancement from film to digital I placed my cameras locked in a closet somewhere at home.



About two years ago, I bought a Sony Cybershot DSC-H2, a semi-pro camera but only after a year or so, I started to lose interest in using it because it was bulky for a point and shoot but not so convenient for professional shots. Later that year I bought a Cybershot T200 which was a really nice point and shoot camera. I brought it everywhere and shot everything. Soon after, I craved for a d-slr. Inspired by my friend Reejoie who likes to take photos also. So we promised that come our adjustment money we will buy one. (Sorry, Joie, I know I promised we'd buy it together but it was relatively cheaper here in Malaysia and plus I am an impulse buyer anyway. hehehe.)

I initially wanted a Nikon D80 but because it was too expensive for my budget, I opted for a cheaper D60 which turned out to be a good buy. Technically I know basic photography so I guess this will do for now. Maybe after a year I will have the professional know-how to get a pro d-slr. I'm waiting for the D90. =D

So here's a few shots I took from my new toy! I love it! Enjoy!
http://imago.multiply.com/photos/album/150/Me_and_My_Nikon_D60

OMFG! Ms. Vicky's in Love

So love does come in the most unlikely place and time, and even the most unlikely person. (Told 'yah so! But nooooobody listens to the gay guy, huh!)

What can I say, she's in love. Ms. Vicky's in love.

Either that or she's just blushing like a 16yo virgin, never been touched, never been kissed, and never been fondled -- which I know is killing her. (Kidding!)

My emotions are running amok.

I’m happy for her and I pity myself.

I’m envious and I hate it.

I’m hopeful but it’s fleeting.

Sigh!

She recently met this E-I-C of one of the top magazines in the country--- through Facebook. Yes, single people, finding a date through the internet is easier than getting your food on time during lunch time in Manggan. And being both writers, they basically hit it off almost instantly.

A few days later, 5 days to be exact EIC’s declaration of love became official. “Be mine.” Sounds like something you’d see on a teddy bear or perhaps a cricket lighter. Baby, Lyt My Fire!

And what would dear Ms. Vicky do? She was basically, for the lack of better words, swept off her feet. And for those people who know her, and by that I mean the badettes¸ she isn’t the kind of woman who’d be taken by all the pambobola of men especially since she’s got game at the whole bolahan thing too. But who would have thought that she would dive in, then swim on treacherous water, drown, only to be seen, carried off to shore, and revived by a man who was willing to look pass her past and be his future.

And if only I could share the many SMS exchanges they had that would simply blow anyone who reads it away. Perhaps since they both write well, they could express their emotions in a more poetic, grammatically correct, spell-checked manner unlike most normal human beings.

It’s soooo unlike her. I’ve never seen her THIS happy in almost 3 years as friends. No guy has ever made her light up so much. And I worry for her. I don’t want to see the light switched off anytime soon. I only wish this guy is THE real deal. And that he has a gay brother whom he could introduce to me.

But the important thing is now. A new beginning with the perfect person and she’s happy, and we, as her friends are happier for her.

Nakaka-wala ng pagkatao ang pagka-impacho sa pagmamahal!

Yes, my friends, Ms. Vicky’s in love.

(photo pic-napped at her friendster)

To Atche: I do hope it's perfectly alright to write about this. I was just sooooo inspired with the twinkle in your eyes that I decided to write something about it -- less false eyelashes.

Side Order of Love

I don’t remember the last time I fell in love. It was such a long time ago that every day that I think about finding love feels as if it’ll never come. ‘Be patient, it’ll come in the most unexpected time, in the most unlikely place.’ My friend always told me this and somehow, while it’s comforting to know, I’m finding it harder and harder to believe.

I miss it. I miss the feeling of being in love. I miss the happiness that comes with it. I miss the moments when you wake up knowing that the one you love is beside you. I miss the times when right before you go to bed, his voice is the last thing you hear.

And so, I post this blog to find someone who’ll read it and relate. As I’m sure a lot of single people there will. I envy my friends, who got married, engaged, or just plain in love with their partners. I envy what they have and I remember when I used to have that too.

I recently heard that my last ex has another partner, 2 since the last time we broke up. I don’t really know if he’s just lucky or is it because he’s out there, always on the prowl and I’m not.

Every week, I take time to unwind and spend some quality time to release a stressful week at work. Malate, Metrowalk, Makati, I can be seen anywhere and yet no one really sees me. Time and time again, I’ve asked myself if I’m that difficult to approach, to get to know, to love. I am a complicated person, that I will admit to but I am not difficult to love. I’m just like most people, idealistic and a hopeless-romantic. It’s just that I admit to it.

I can’t wait for love to come. I can’t wait for someone to sweep me off my feet and carry me to a far off land. Ok, well I guess that’s pushing it. Let’s just say I want someone I can connect with. Someone sincere and faithful, whom I know nowadays, is hard to come by, especially in the gay scene. After all, men are naturally born promiscuous.

Last night, I was in a bar, somewhere in Malate and there was this pretty adorable guy dancing in front of me. He was being eyed by another guy from across the dance floor. I noticed him texting and peeked to look. Yes, I was that bored. He was sms-ing his lover. I knew ‘coz I saw the name ‘PAO-HUN.’ After a few more drinks and more eye to eye courtship, the guy from across the dance floor approached and they started making out. I thought to myself, ‘Is there really no more faithful guys around?’ It’s so sad that most people take for granted their relationships. And for what, for a quick lay?

Sometimes I wonder if the complication of being in a relationship is worth the risk. Is being in a relationship better than being single? Or is being single and just fooling around better than risking being hurt because one partner can’t keep their pants on? I guess it all boils down to contentment. But people rarely get satisfied. There’s always something more they want. It’s never enough. Love never is.

If being in a relationship is the main course and love is the side order, let me have some of that.

Check please!

On Familiar Ground

Standing on the middle of nothing.
Looking for yet another familiar face.
We share a common goal,
find the light surrounded by darkness.
Wishes...hopes... and dreams.
Fleeting.

Everything is a constant battle.
A fight to keep sanity
In the chaotic world you live in
Peace is a luxury you wish to keep.
Hope is something you need to have.
How strong are you?
Have far are you willing to go to find yourself?

The sweet sadness in your smile,
hiding beneath the mask that's crumbling.
Fading memories of the past
oh, what joy.
Numb.
Let's not feel.
Enough with love.
Enough!

Standing on a familiar ground,
I still see nothing.
No one.
Just light.
Pin light.

Weekend of Goodbyes

So who would have thought that after being single for nearly 8 months (pause for dramatic effect), I’m still single! Dang! I think I’m getting too old for this ‘crazy lil’ thing called L-O-V-E.’ And I won’t say it’s not getting to me because it does, and all of my friends can affirm this. After all, I am a commitment-maniac. There I said it! I love being in-love and sometimes even more than the person. I am an idealist. I love the idea of me being in love. And this has been my greatest fault. Oftentimes, even before the relationship starts I’ve already set plans of having a 1st anniversary vacation cruise with him. This usually happens by the second date. I know right, WTF am I thinking? But hey, being idealistic in love comes with a price (sometimes even literally). Don’t get me wrong, I don’t and never will pay for love. This is not PRETTY WOMAN after all. I ain’t that rich. So why is it that when it comes to love, we all look for the ideal, perfect, and over-the-top kind? Were we fed with so much ‘happily ever afters’ as a kid that fairytales becomes ideal? We all look for our Prince Charming’s, Cinderella’s, Snow White’s, Carrie’s and Mr. Big’s and yet for some of us, they may never come.

In my search for the perfect kind of love, I came across three very unique individuals. And as quickly as each one came, each of them disappeared out of my life.

Cavite Guy

Three years ago I met this aspiring entrepreneur on one hot summer night. I won’t try to frost it; it was a one night stand. And that was basically it, a quick lay, nothing special, and nothing to be serious about. But then, a few years down the road, I received this message on one of the websites I frequently visit reminding me of this night, an invite of sorts to keep in touch and go out soon. And as if soon didn’t come quickly enough, we had lunch the next day. We had lunch at Podium and talked, and talked, and talked. I found him on a different light. It’s like really meeting him for the first time. I realized this guy had a very big potential to be a very good partner. He’s intellectual, goal-oriented, focused and driven. He owned his own training management company which was his wife, baby, partner and life. His world revolved around his work and company. I remember asking him why he’s so passionate about this and he said, ‘because my work is the only thing that gives me back importance.’ I’m not entirely sure what this meant or why he answered it like that but I knew at that very instant I could never compete. I also knew that this person can assure me of a very good future. We tried to make it work but things were much more complicated. We had different priorities and he was not ready to give it all up for a shot at a relationship. While I was willing to give it my everything. I haven’t heard from him for 4 days and I take it as he’s just not that interested.

Singapore Guy

Last Saturday I met up with some of my friends to unwind and have a great time. We decided to go clubbing and dance, get drunk and just have fun. We went to our usual hang out at Malate. The night started great and we heated the dance floor early on. Vicky sported this uber sexy outfit seemingly ignoring the fact that we were at a gay club and straight men there were either waiters, go-go boys or there with their girlfriends who had gay friends. I obviously underestimated her as she ended up dancing with this hot ‘undetermined (sexual orientation)’ guy. The whole time I was texting with this Singapore guy who claimed to have other plans with his friends and won’t be coming there. But to my surprise, later that night (morning), he texted saying he’ll be coming. I was suddenly filled with excitement. After all, I really like this guy and he seemingly liked me.

I met him about a month and a half ago. We started exchanging text messages at first and a few phone calls here and there. It was only recently after he came back from Singapore that we decided to meet. I saw his pictures on the net and I knew he was attractive but I didn’t realize he was hot until a saw him personally. He had a great body, much like a surfers. He’s also highly intellectual and spoke very well. Up until that time, I never even imagined I’d have the slightest possibility to date someone like him. I was never really that attracted to guys who sported a great physique, spoke well and modelled. Call it insecurity but I refused to date guys like that because I knew my paranoia will always get the best of me. I still gave it a shot. He was sweet, thoughtful and almost the guy I wanted to have a relationship with. But then it crumbled as quickly as it was built.

He was always the mysterious type, hardly spoke about his life and rarely shared his feelings to me. But before that Saturday night, he did. He told me about his friends (whom I met a week before) and even his past lovers. He was beginning to open up to me. And I was finally confident that I could crack some of his mysteries. I was terribly wrong. I haven’t heard from him since.

The Young Guy

A few months back while I was hanging out at our usual club I bumped into an old friend. He was with his guy and I was immediately taken by his unbelievably cute smile. Yes, it was that smile that also drove me to find out more about him. I messaged my friend asking him to give him my number. I found out that he did but the guy never texted or called. So, persistent as I am, I found another way. I messaged him on the usually site I had an account with hoping that he’d reply. After a week, I got my answer. We exchanged messages and started keeping in touch even when I was in Malaysia for work. When I came back, we decided to meet for dinner. Dinner was a short one and we never had an opportunity to have another one. I realised he was young and yet again, we had different priorities. I didn’t want to pursue. I gave up even before it started.

-o-

Perhaps this is partly my fault for having too much expectation with all three of them. But I tried and make at least one work but it seemed that fate was against my side. I didn’t fall in love with all of them, not even one. I fell in love with the fact that I had a shot to be happy again. I was hopeful and somewhat looking forward to the possibility of finding my happy ending. I ran too fast and jumped too high. One of my friends spoke to me about having too high standards. I know I had them set too high but then again, I never wanted to lower it down. Maybe I should. But let me find the right person first. Until then, I remain single, not-so-happy but ok single. I will remain hopeful and idealistic even if it takes another 8 months or more until that crazy-lil’-thing called L-O-V-E comes my way… and stays.

Ode to a Sunday

San Mig Light and Menthols on a lazy Sunday afternoon.
Tofu dripping with grease that slides like slime down your throat.
An order of deep fried french fries with garlic mayo dip.
A dash of chili, and a little sprinkle of you.
Chopsticks, ashtrays, a notebook and pens.
You take a drag on your cigarette, and sing at the top of your lungs.
Koreans sit across our table with plum nail polish.
We roll our eyes at the adolescent punks who vandalized the table beside us.
Kids lined with eyeliners, who smoked and posed as hip.
They ordered nothing but alcohol from a nearby convenience store.
Pathetic.
So out of boredom, we played SOS, Afro Hangman, and Pencil-Flick Wars.
Became sentimental, and spoke about love, life and everything else in between.
And then a realization hit: Sundays are more than beer, cigarettes and people-watching.
It's about sharing lives, thoughts, hopes and dreams,
Daydreaming and guessing what the future may bring.
Loneliness, fears, babies and marriage.
Probabilities and endless possibilities.
In this chaotic world where pieces of you get broken all the time,
We hang on to each other, knowing there is nothing else as infallible as our Sundays.
With our San Mig Light and Menthols, we continue to share our passion for life.
Caught in our own world, we laugh and we cry,
But we keep on coming back to our sanctuary: each other.
Yesterday, today and tomorrow.
All that matters is that we keep on coming back.
Armed with nothing else but our deep love
For a lazy Sunday afternoon.


April 20, 2008

Twister

Once upon a time, they were best friends.

They knew nothing could ever come between them. One was always talking about how life was cruel to him. And because she was the only person who knew him inside and out, she always knew what he needed to hear. But still he felt lonely and sad that his life was not the way he wanted. She can offer nothing but her shoulder because she could never give him what he needed the most. For him, it was more than enough... to hear her voice on the phone, and to see her as often as he could. He loved her more than anyone.

But then he met someone who occupied his thoughts and his heart. And slowly, he drifted away.

He was happy and content with the life he finally found. But then, as he always feared, everything fell apart. He wanted it to last forever, and she knew that this person was different, and mattered to him more than anyone else he has ever met.

So even if she felt like she had been forgotten, she did everything to put things back together without his knowedge. It was her best friend's happiness that mattered more than anything did. And it worked out for the best.

One day, she received a surprising message from him. "Nat, I need to see you. Can we meet up?"

And so they did.

They met at the usual place. After so many years, here they are on another lazy Sunday.

"I thought you'd forgotten about me," she said half-jokingly.

"How could I do that? You're my best friend."

"You know that will never change. I've always understood that I had to let you go to find the happiness I could never give," she said, taking his hand.

He felt that even if she meant what she said, there was a painful ring to those words. He apologized.

But she wouldn't accept it. She knew he didn't know what she did for him, but she wanted him to think that he found what he was looking for by himself. After all, that's what he needed.

"I'm dying," he said. "Doctors said I have cancer."

She was stunned and speechless. This time, she had no power to change anything. She was helpless, and again, she could offer nothing but her shoulder.

Chem Love

Reposting from http://www.imago.multiply.com



If love were for sale, would you buy it and for how much?

Lifetime vs. Three Hours

I recently had an encounter with someone who thought that happiness can be found by taking on little pill worth a thousand plus pesos. For roughly two months, I believed that his person can love me, that I was enough to make him happy. However, he wanted heaven. He wanted it so much he was more than willing to let me go, break my heart and step on it. He wanted three hours of heaven in exchange for a promise, a hope of a lifetime together. I was foolish enough to think that my love can suffice. That my love can give him what he wanted what he needed. But, he wanted heaven --three hours of it to be exact.

“I love you! I hope you know that.”

“I know and I love you too”

“But I guess not as much as ‘that’ right?

“Yeah!”

He could have been kind enough to deny it. He could have said “No!” He could have cared enough not to answer. But he did not. He answered in such a cold voice. I heard my heart break. Instantly. It broke like a wooden stick, right smack at the middle. SNAP! It echoed throughout my body. I was shaking and tears immediately came rolling down my cheeks. I have heard bad break-up lines but this one’s for the books.

It was suppose to be our day together. A day we promised to spend together because it was almost our second month. I woke up and saw my mobile phone completely drained. I stood up and grabbed the charger. I turned on my phone and saw his message. He said he needed to go to his friends’ place because they want to talk. I called him. He picked up my call and I heard ‘house music’ loudly playing on the background. My initial thought was that they were drinking. He said he was going to finish in a few hours. It was 12 noon when I received his SmS and it was now four in the afternoon. Unless it was a discussion on political history and the Cold War, I highly doubted that all they were doing was talk. I knew he was lying but I did not pursue. An hour later, I called him again.

“I don’t understand. Why do you need to be there and talk for more than 5
hours? This was our day together. We were going to celebrate, remember?”

He did not answer. He could not answer.

“Did you drop? Tell me honestly. Did you drop?”

“Yes, I did!”

For a moment, I was speechless. Then I started asking questions for which I already knew the answers. It was then I realised that he did not love me as much as I had hoped, as much as I deserved. It was that afternoon I ended it.


Two Weeks, Too Soon


I got back from Kenya two weeks later and heard they got back together (unofficially). It did not really come as a surprise as I already heard rumors about it. Somehow, I knew it was bound to happen eventually. However, I did not expect it to be sooner rather than later.

“Do you believe in 2nd chances?”

“No. But I guess it really depends. If after sometime I still love him or he still loves me”

“Ah, so you do naman pala eh.”

“Yeah, I guess…”

Perhaps it is not meant to be. Perhaps I was even deceived all along. But whatever the reason was, it didn’t really matter anymore. There was nothing left to do but wish them well and move on. His heart never really belonged to me after all. It belonged to someone he considered his friend, his lover and maybe even his soul mate. My friends said I was better off without him but part of me refused to believe that at first. Then, I must. Therefore, I did.

If heaven can be found on a pill and love can be bought, would you buy it?

“I’d rather fall in love and go through hell to someday know what forever in heaven feels like with someone.”

Whenever.

Wherever.

WhatEVERRR!

Halaga

Kung bukas matutunan mong magmahal muli,
Saan mo hahanapin ang pag-ibig na tila tuluyan mo ng nilimot?
At sa iyong patuloy na paglalakbay
Patungo sa daang waring unti-unting naglalaho
Paano na ang pag-asa?

Apat na mahahabang buwan at bawat araw, oras at minuto'y binibilang.
Nagaantay sa pagdating ng bukas na muling magising ang nahihimbing na puso.

Doon sa tabi ng bughaw na langit,
Naroon kaya?

Doon sa nagkukubling liwanag, sa lilim na berdeng halaman,
Mayroon kaya?

Naroon, doon sa ilalim ng madilim na dagat,
Andoon ata.

Maaring doon sa naglalagablab na init ng araw,
Hindi mahawakan, hindi rin masilyan,
Baka naroon nga.

Kung bukas makalawa ay iyong matagpuan ang mailap mong inaasahan,
Maalala mo pa rin kaya ang daang noo'y iyong tinahak,
Na pilit mong nilimot ang mga sakit at pait ng kahapon?

At kapag iyong natagpuan ang pagasa,
Ito ba'y may halaga pa?

Like Ripples in the Water

White and minimal and yet it spoke to me like a story. It was with your mysterious ways and sly smile that caught my attention. There was something there, with your head on a pillow, seemingly sleeping your troubles away. And with your profound thoughts and creativity that shone brightly like the first time you opened your eyes on a beautiful morning, blinding but warm. I write this for you whom I loved and lost to someone you chose to be with the moment you met. And to the mistake that cost me you, I wonder if it was indeed my fault or was it him who 'stole' you from me. Regardless, I know you're happy now and like a pill I swallowed the bitter truth that you are in the arms of another. When C was Zee and Christmas wasn't merry, I called but you did not answer, it was then I shed a tear that created ripples in the water and that, as they say, was that.

It was a late night at the office. It was half past eight when I decided that evening to head home. I just came back from Galera with Vicky that weekend and I was inviting him to meet me for dinner but he refused. I got out of the building and to my surprise saw him walking casually with his usual I-pod-big-bag-cap-tattered-shirt-not-minding-anyone look. I called out three times but he obviously did not hear nor see me. I had to rush in front of him to catch his attention. He saw me and was equally surprised but in the glad-to-see-you sense. I felt there was something cold about him that night. I felt it. It was as if he did not want to see me. But persistent as I was I forced him to talk about 'us'. A topic he clearly avoided for so many days. It was then I found out that all the months of dating were flushed down the drain.

"So, did you go out with him?"
"Yes. I did last Sunday."
"And are you going to see him again?"
"We already did."

I knew that was it for me, two consecutive dates with another guy that instantly told me that I am officially out of the picture. I've known him for about 6 months to be mistaken. I was leaving for Jakarta in a couple of days and it brought me a sense of relief to be incommunicado for a few weeks. At that point I really did not want to speak or see him.

Weeks later I came back and knew that I had been replaced. Probably not by someone better but definitely with someone he was more compatible with him. I silenced my aching heart and urged it to beat for his happiness. And while it still hurt there was nothing left for me to do but watch from the side, look at the pictures and pray that someday I'd find me own. And when the ripples in the water subsided it became clear to me. It was simple, white and minimal, I had taken this pill that somehow made me stronger --- a pill I called Vitamin Zee.

Confessions of a Commitment-Maniac

*poof* … and then the handsome young prince turned back into a frog.

Just when you said that you found the one, destiny turns its wheel and you’re right back to square one. Lately, I’ve been diving into one relationship after the next. And after being into so many relationships (around 7) in just over a year, I am starting to think that there is something disturbingly wrong with me. My friends have told me time and time again that I should not even blame myself but I think otherwise. If I analyze it very well there are several things that will lead me to the conclusion that I am indeed a commitment-maniac. Here are some signs.

You know you’re a commitment-maniac when…

1. You meet one person and have an instant connection with and assume that this will be another beautiful relationship without even knowing his last name.
2. You spend next hour talking about previous relationships, asking about why it didn’t work. You ask for their names and pray you don’t know them or worse had sex with them.
3. You immediately ask for a number where he/she can be reached and instantly call with sweet blah-blahs.
4. When he doesn’t reply to your sms, you call and pretend to say you just miss talking when really you’re just bothered if he’s still interested.
5. On the first date you ask, “Are you really ready for a new relationship?”
6. If the answer’s a “yes,” you hold hands.
7. If it’s a “no,” you say,” I’m willing to wait.”
8. You’re demanding, setting rules and regulations like a kindergarten teacher.
9. On the third date, you say, “I think I’m falling for you.”
10. On the sixth date you say, “I love you.”
11. You force him/her to take dozens and dozens of pictures every time you meet just to keep the memories frozen but really you just want to tell the whole world you’re in a relationship and that you’re sweet.
12. You plan things like, living in together, opening a bank account, buying a dog, working at the same building or same office, brainstorms on pet names, plans out of town and country trips, wants to meet the parents and other family members, demands to meet friends, all in one week.
13. You break-up after a week or two, with reasons as petty as you failed to say the “three magic words” today.
14. You instantly sms, call, or advertise via YM, MSN, Friendster or Multiply that you broke up and now being back in singlehood is open for date referrals.
15. You cry less and less when you encounter break-ups either because you’ve grown stronger or just that you got so used to it.
And lastly,
16. You’re in another relationship after less than a month.

Now let me remind you that as this may not be applicable to everyone, these are based on the events in the life and loss of a commitment-maniac. I am neither proud nor happy that this has been happening to me in the past couple of years but it has been something I’ve learned to accept and now very much willing to change. I’ve learned from these ‘mistakes’ and I’m ready to go on a crusade to fight the mania. I guess part of being a commitment-maniac is to be blamed on the fact that I am a hopeless-romantic to the core. Nothing special here, just a simple guy who’s addicted to love and simple dreaming of the day when he would settle down, be happy with someone, hold hands , read a book, watch the TV on a lazy Sunday afternoon. Someday another frog will pass by his way and maybe turn into the prince charming he had hope for since he knew how to kiss.

Good Morning/Goodbye

And so it has come to this, after 5 years of an on and off relationship you decided to break my heart again and I decided it would be the very last time. We met at a very unlikely place and time. It was half past two in the morning when you stopped and asked me for directions. Who knew that a simple question would lead us to years of complicated love? I never expected that in one unlikely morning at half past one by June’s end you said your goodbye.

Did you ever wonder why is it that every time you’re sad, it suddenly rains. Perhaps it is Gaea’s way of empathizing with you.

It was a cloudy morning and I immediately knew that it was not the same. I could smell it as clearly as pancakes for breakfast. It was distinct. The wind felt dry and humid. The grass poised as tall as ever seemingly welcoming the first drop. It was going to rain, for I am sad. It was a day filled with anxiety. Eagerly anticipating what’s coming. I could not get out off bed. I wanted to lie there and sleep for a hundred years and wait for my Prince Charming to wake me from my eternal slumber. But life, my life, was not a fairytale. There is no Prince, only dragons. I rolled out of bed, dragged myself toward the bathroom. Doing the same routine. Bathe, brush my teeth, shave, dress up and get ready for work. But I really did not want to work; I did not want to move. All I could think about was that only a couple of hours ago you decided to call everything off. You did it with such coldness that could rival the Artic Sea. I did not understand why and your answers only led to even more complicated questions. I was dazed and confused. I only felt a sense of deep sadness and a nagging feeling of fear. I was scared that I will not be able to love the same way again or that I will be trapped in my vulnerable state. Both of which I did not want but had. I wanted to be over you the soonest but I did not know how. I’ve forgotten how to move on. So I drank to try and sink my sorrow to oblivion. It didn’t work. Alcohol was never a solution to anything. I turned to my friends for comfort and assurance that it was not my fault. And yet I kept blaming myself for something out of my hands. They were right. It was not my fault and the only reason I weep was because I believed that forever could happen to us. I’ve accepted the fact; the truth that it was just really not meant to be. I should move on now and try to be happy in my solace. And I know in time I will. When the rain stops I will dance outside to my own music. Music only I can hear, without you. I will stop dancing in the rain to hide my tears. Because this morning when I saw you again I decided to hate you and love you the only way I know how. On this beautiful morning after the rain, I said my very last goodbye.

A Million Little You (A Million Little Me)

Look at me.
I said, Look at me!
What do you see?
I see you through a glass.
And is there any difference? He asked.
None at all, I replied.
I see a person wanting to be seen, to be heard, to be cared for and loved.
But I see something real. No pretensions, no qualms,
Powerful, destructive in force, gentle in honour
I believe in the dreamer, the soul-searcher, who travels to lands unknown
only to come back empty.
What’s wrong with you?
Why do you think such things?
Because there is nothing more real than the truth
That you are too blinded to see.
And what truth is that?
The truth that you are no one.
I am someone.
I am passionate.
You are borrowed.
I am someone.
I am love-crazed.
You are conceived in my mind, moulded into no one.
Generic.
I am someone,
An individual.
You are a reflection. A mere magic trick of light.
I am someone,
Defiant,
Who wants to change the world,
Who wants to succeed because he can create.
You are to be shared.
A gift for no one.
I am someone.
Given to everyone.
A jester to all but yourself.
Ha-Ha-Ha! I hear them laughing.
Mocking you ridicule yourself in front of them.
Why do you do such a foolish act?
Humiliating yourself so that others can.
I do this for them and not for you.
Not for you but for them.
Listen. They are still laughing at you.
No. They laugh with me.
And what you hear is music to my soul.
It’s nothing but noise to drown the truth.
Be kind to yourself.
Do not inflict any more pain.
The truth that you are no one,
Everyone will not like you and you,
You should not even care.
But I do.
You do because you want more than you need.
Shut up.
No.
Stop.
I don’t want to hear any more of this.
You must listen and accept what is coming.
HA-HA-HA! Laugh more, cry even.
You are Narcissus who sank on his own vanity.
Loving yourself was never a sin.
But too much is a crime.
The mirror shatters
Into a million broken little pieces lay on the floor.
I knelt down.
Now, look at me.
I said, LOOK AT ME!
Who is it that you can see?
I see you.
A million broken little pieces of you.

Bopis and Valentine’s Day

“Noel, you’re wanted at the Principal’s office,” my teacher said. At first I thought it was something I did wrong but then I quickly realized that being sent to the office for putting gum under my desk wasn’t enough reason. I knocked and slowly opened the door to the office. I entered and saw my father seated. I was surprised to so him and wondered what he was doing there talking to my principal. “Get your things, we’re going home,” Papa said. He thanked the principal and signaled me toward the door. I asked him what he was doing there and he just said that we’re going to my grandparent’s house. The news of me going there filled my heart with delight. I got to leave the school early and I would get to spend time with my cousins playing. I couldn’t be more excited. We reached our house and I dashed to my room to change. I kept thinking I would get to see my cousins, aunts, uncles and most especially taste my Lolo’s bopis again and on a school night. What more could a stressed-out little boy want? It was quite a long drive from our house to my grandparents’ but I didn’t mind. I was just so happy to see them all. It was a quiet drive and Papa wasn’t talking. All I could here was the music on the radio. We finally arrived and I immediately jumped out of the car and dashed toward the gate. I saw a lot of unfamiliar faces at the porch but I was too fervent to even ask why. I began looking for my cousins so we could start playing. I got to the kitchen and there I saw my mom and aunts immersed into conversation. They stopped when they saw me. I kissed my mom and went around the table to do the same to my aunts and uncles. “Where’s lola?” I asked. “She’s in her room,” my mom answered. I ran to her room and found my other family members huddled around her crying. She wiped her tears when she saw me and I hugged her. I asked why everyone seemed so sad but no one replied. I shrugged and went back to the kitchen. I was hungry and I was craving for my favourite delicacy which my grandfather cooks so well, but to my dismay it wasn’t there. My mom suddenly took me by the arm and asked me to sit with her. The next few words I heard from her shocked me to my very core. I was immediately filled with so much pain and grief that tears filled my eyes and ran down my cheeks. I rose from her lap and went to the wall near the bathroom. I started kicking and punching the wall vigorously as if it was all to blame. I shouted and cried harder and when I grew tired I fell on the floor and cried even more. My heart was pounding and I was grasping for air. And after a while I became silent and rose from where I fell. I walked slowly toward my cousins’ room and at the corner of my eye saw my sister crying. My mom tried to stop me but I freed myself from her hand and ran toward the room. I wanted to be alone to dwell on the grief I was feeling. I locked the door behind me as I entered. I cuddled up on the empty bed and began crying again. Suddenly, I was filled with memories of my grandfather, Apo Ben. I remembered his antics and other fond memories of him. I remembered he used to jokingly touch me on my privates saying that he wanted to check if it was growing faster than me. He always said that I was chubby and unusually small for my age.

My grandfather died February 14 due to a heart attack. It was his third. I never tasted his bopis again and I don’t even remember the last time I did. But I remember all the lessons he taught me. He taught me so many things. He taught me how to laugh out loud. He taught me to love cooking. He taught me that art is beautiful and that creativity comes not from the hands of the maker but from his heart and soul. He taught me what beer tastes like. He let me taste my first when I was 9. He was strong and strict but compassionate and loving. He taught me about death for the first time by dying. He taught me that it was ok and that the life we had on this earth was only borrowed and can be taken away anytime. He taught me that crying was nothing more than expressing pain and to weep because when someone leaves you, you are allowed to mourn for a while. But then you have to let go and remember fond memories you have that will last for a lifetime. I never tasted bopis the same way again and Valentine’s Day was not only the day of hearts but the day when my great Apo Ben taught me how it is to cry and to weep then let go.

Love and San Mig Light

I wanted to write beautiful poems and wonderful essays, about love and every story behind its sheer power. I have always considered myself a love-crazed person. It was all I could ever think about, and for a time it was all I could ever write about. As one movie I saw clearly illustrated, they say that there are different kinds of live. A love that’s blind with one being more engagingly attractive than the other. A love that fades when two people have grown too far apart brings you spiralling down. A love that’s lost when one dies. A love found even in just one night—at a bar. And then, there’s the cruellest kind of love, the unrequited love. A person doomed to watch the love of another blossom in silent tears and with sweet goodbyes. And so, here and now I decide to write about love and San Mig Light.

A lit cigarette and a cold San Mig Light
An idea of a near perfect night
A quiet spot in a crowded room
Loneliness made by choice

Sweet nothings and cruel words
My heart and thoughts run amuck.
There so much beauty coupled with pain
I see in your face.

You loved and you lost, you lived and died.
In the passing of the day and the coming of the night
With your silent tear and sweet goodbye
We part.

Passion, depression, lies and fears
On giving up and holding on
A pen, a paper, a coaster and alone
Me, with love and my San Mig Light

My Body's Not Mine

You gave me this body
But it is not mine
You moulded me into something
In the image and likeness
Conceived in your mind

My body is borrowed
A gift to be shared, but
Scarred and tainted
With feelings of pain and love, happiness and tears
And of all things failed

You loaned me this body
For me to use as I please
But I decided unwisely
With vices, I destroyed it slowly
Cigarettes, alcohol, sex and vanity

My body filled with passion
You alone can feel
Undying, deep and giving
Stolen from a figure unreal
Copied from a shadow with your seal

Other bodies I envy
For they’re muscular and big
While mine, small and lean
Sickly and thin
And somewhat unclean

Youth and beauty
Things my body clings in desperately
But I know it shall fade, wither and decay
As certain as the sun, as mysterious as the moon
My body like all others will be gone soon

“Take care of me,” it said.
Love me like a mother would a child, it pleaded
Unselfishly, undaunted and without disregard
My body, a place for my head
And the heart that seemingly plays dead.

My soul cries, “free me from this cage!”
A vision of me on the edge
My body is different
Different from my heart
It was shaped, given, borrowed, full of passion, and it is not mine.

A Lesson In Dancing

Dance as if no one is watching: close your eyes

And picture no one but you and I

Surrounded by music that only we can hear;

Trust me. Believe. I tell you; soon I shall teach you how to fly.



Dance as if no one is watching: embrace your freedom

from a world full of pain

of man unjust, I offer you peace and a promise to live

and to dance to keep you sane.



Dance as if no one is watching: follow the beat

And feel its rhythm. Hear the sound getting louder

and faster, taking you higher and higher.

I am your guide and this your heart shall remember.



Dance as if no one is watching: across time and space

Share your love and release your passion,

Raise your hand and reach for mine.

This is a dance of our own creation.



Dance as if no one is watching: open your eyes

And look beyond what you can see. Listen

To your soul: “I am you and you have become me”

We are as one as heaven intended us to be.



Now, let's dance as if no one is watching.